.
perial Librar

WfrM^

University of California • Berkeley
PAULINE FORE MOFFITT LIBRARY

//?<

ANOTHER'S CRIME

ANOTHER'S CRIME

FROM THE DIARY OF

INSPECTOR BYRNES

BY

JULIAN HAWTHORNE

AUTHOR OF "A TRAGIC MYSTERY," "THE GREAT BANK
ROBBERY," "AN AMERICAN PENMAN, "" SEC-
TION 558 J OR, THE FATAL LETTER," ETC.

CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED
104 & 106 FOURTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT,

1888,
By O. M. DUNHAM.

Press W. L. Mershon & Co.
Rahway, N. J.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
THE NOLENS, i

CHAPTER II.

SUITORS, - 12

CHAPTER III.

MRS. CUTHBERT TUNSTALL, - - - - 21

CHAPTER IV.
NEEDS MUST, - 31

.CHAPTER V.
A FATAL MEETING, 41

CHAPTER VI.
THE END OF AN INTRIGUE, - 51

CHAPTER VII.
VAL MARTIN, - 63

CHAPTER VIII.
A REVELATION, - - 71

CHAPTER IX.
BAIL, - - 80

CHAPTER X.
PAULINE, -------- 89

IV CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XI.
AT SEA, - - 100

CHAPTER XII.
THE SHADOW OF DEATH, - - no

CHAPTER XIII.
To AWAIT CONFIRMATION, - 123

CHAPTER XIV.
A POWERFUL ALLY, - - 133

CHAPTER XV.
A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA, - - 143

CHAPTER XVI.
A STRANGE WOOING, 153

CHAPTER XVII.
A HUNTER'S YARN, ------ 164

CHAPTER XVIII.
A DILEMMA, 174

CHAPTER XIX.
IN A CARRIAGE, - 184

CHAPTER XX.
A CHECK, - - 195

CHAPTER XXI.
AT HEADQUARTERS, - - 207

CHAPTER XXII.
JOHN CRUSH, ....... 217

CHAPTFR XXIII.
THE SHADOW LIFTED, _____ 226

ANOTHER'S CRIME.

CHAPTER I.

THE NOLENS.

IF you could put on the cap of invisibility and sit
for twenty-four hours in the private room of
Inspector Byrnes at police headquarters, you would
see many strange sights. Representatives of every
grade of the community pass through those mys-
terious portals during the day. All sorts and con-
ditions of men, from the depraved pickpocket to
the cultured millionaire ; all varieties of the
daughters of Eve, from the poor vulgar trull to
the refined and lovely queen of society. Here meet
youth and age, virtue and vice, industry and idle-
ness, wise and foolish, good and evil. Strange
events are there brought to light ; life-histories,
fantastic, tragic, comic, pathetic, romantic ; crimes
startling or sordid ; human passions are there
unfolded of every species — love, hate, revenge,
avarice, self-abnegation, ambition, and despair,
which is the death of all passion, good or bad.

2 THE NOLENS.

And what a gallery of faces follow one another, in
endless succession, across the threshold — beautiful,
hideous, sorrowful, joyful, contented, wretched, cul-
tivated, degraded, spiritual, bestial. And all who
come have some story to tell, some accusation to
bring, some defense to oppose, some end to gain.
Having said their say they disperse again — some
to liberty, some to trial ; some to death, some to
victory ; some to prisons, some to palaces. All the
contrasts of human existence, all its lights and
shadows, appear in the Inspector's room, and dis-
appear again, while you look on in your cap of
invisibility.

And there, at his desk, sits the Inspector, exam-
ining, weighing, deciding, investigating, advising,
reproving, encouraging ; cheerful or grave, as
the case may be, even-tempered, firm, suave, stern,
penetratimg, impenetrable ; the depository of all
secrets, the revealer of none ; the man who is
never hurried, yet never behind-hand ; never idle,
yet never weary ; always patient, and always
prompt. No position under the municipal govern-
ment requires more tact than his, more energy,
more courage, more experience. He must be pli-
ant, yet immovable ; subtle, yet straightforward ;
keen, yet blunt. He must know all the frailties of
human nature, and yet be not too cynical to com-
prehend its goodness ; he must be an advocate,
and at the same time a judge. In short, he must
be a chief of New York detectives ; and, whatever
else his office may be, it is certainly no sinecure.

THE NOLENS. 3

Of the countless dramas and episodes that come
to his knowledge, many can not be told again ; and
many, if told, would not be credited, so different
from the strangeness of fiction is the strangeness
of real life. On the other hand, not a few of these
tales can be repeated without indiscretion, and, in
all substantial respects, precisely as they actually
came to pass. Such narratives have one advan-
tage over the conceptions of the imagination, that
they are a record of facts, not fancies, and carry
the authority and impressiveness of fact. But
they also labor under a disadvantage which, per-
haps, more than balances the gain of reality ; for
facts are stubborn, and accommodate themselves but
awkwardly to the rules of artistic construction and
symmetry. Like rocks in a New England farm,
they are continually cropping up where they are
least wanted. And yet, it will sometimes happen
that nature so nearly accommodates herself to art
that the story assumes a tolerable grace and pro-
portion ; and such a one is contained' in the pages
that follow. But, although the sequence and char-
acter of the events has been adhered to, the names
of the persons are changed ; for the affair took
place but a short while since, and nearly all the
actors in it are still alive, and several of them moving
in the best society in New York.

Mr. Bartemus Nolen was a representative of a
good New York family, and was possessed of com-

4 THE NOLENS.

fortable means ; by profession he was a lawyer.
He was a member of the Episcopalian Church, and
he married, at the outset of his career, a lady of
the same persuasion, a woman of excellent educa-
tion and gentle and benevolent disposition. The
first twenty years of their married life passed hap-
pily and prosperously; two sons were born to them ;
and a few years later a daughter, Pauline. Mr.
Nolen achieved honor and eminence in his profes-
sion ; the boys did well in school and afterward
at college, and the daughter gave promise of sin-
gular intelligence and beauty — a promise which was
afterward fulfilled.

But at length the current of luck took a turn,
and began to set against the honest lawyer. He
was affected with a cataract in one of his eyes,
which had not proceeded far when the other also
showed signs of being affected ; this misfortune
was a serious drawback to his practice, and finally
compelled him to abandon it almost entirely. Of
course, practice meant money, and the cessation
from it diminution of income. There was still
enough left, however, to live upon with comfort, if
not luxuriously ; but unfortunately Mr. Nolen,
being deprived of his customary mental employ-
ment, took to thinking of other things ; and one of
the subjects of his meditation was the feasibility of
getting larger returns from his invested property.
Among his acquaintance were many men whose
trade was finance, and Bartemus got in the habit of
counselling with them upon financial matters. No

THE NOLENS, 5

doubt they gave him the best advice at their dis-
posal ; but when one begins to buy stocks advice
is of little use ; and Mr. Nolen, after several ups
and downs, came down with somewhat of a thump,
to the extent of about a third part of his total pos-
sessions. At this juncture he proved his excep-
tional good sense and self-control ; for he never
risked another dollar in speculation. Neither did
he reveal the fact of his losses, which was at least
prudent. But these virtues could not save him
from being and feeling a good deal poorer than
he was before. He owned the house lived in,
and continued to live in it ; but he curtailed his
expenses, and by strict economy contrived to ren-
der them less than his income. His sons would
soon be through college, and would then, it was to
be supposed, take care of themselves. It was
for his daughter that he was saving, and he
hoped to leave her at least a decent fortune after
his death.

But other misfortunes were in store for him.
His oldest son, Jerrold Nolen, had graduated from
college, and came to New York to study medicine,
living, meanwhile, at his father's house. He was
a young fellow of ability and agreeable manners,
and was popular among his fellows. His father
was proud of him, and treated him with partiality.
It soon became apparent that Jerrold was rather
inclined to dissipation ; his sociable nature had its
detrimental side. This was the more unfortunate,
inasmuch as he had a tendency to heart disease, and

THE NOLENS.

was of an excitable temperament. As this matter
will be dwelt on hereafter, it is enough to say here
that Jerrold died under tragic circumstances in
the second year of his medical studies. His death,
besides bringing bitter grief to his father and
mother, led to legal proceedings against a person
supposed to have been instrumental in compassing
his destruction—proceedings which led to no good
results, and involved a large expense. Mr. Nolen
never recovered from the shock and disappoint-
ment of his eldest son's sudden end ; and in little
more than a year afterwards the morning papers
contained respectful but brief notices of his
decease.

His will was admitted to probate ; it devised
twenty thousand dollars to his son Percy Nolen
when the latter should come of age; the remainder
was settled upon Mrs. Nolen, with certain provisos
in the event of Pauline's marrying with her
mother's approval. Percy's bequest was intended
to start him in business, he having shown a ten-
dency to take up mining engineering as a pursuit.
He too was an intelligent boy, and left college in
good standing as to scholarship, but his character
resembled Jerrold's in its lack of firmness and per-
sistent energy ; while, unlike Jerrold, he was of a
selfish disposition. After graduating and coming
into possession of his patrimony, he announced his
intention of postponing for awhile his professional
studies and seeing a little of metropolitan life.
This made his mother anxious, remembering

THE NOLENS. 7

the unhappy career of her older son, but she in-
terpreted Percy's design in the manner most
favorable to him, as simply a wish to become prac-
tically familiar with the ways and manners of good
society.

Percy's original purposes may, indeed, have con-
templated no more than that ; but that was far from
being the limit of what he actually did. His ad-
vances towards the best society were neither con-
siderable nor prolonged. For a few months he
went to dinners and receptions and danced at
balls ; but it soon became evident that he was get-
ting intimate with a class of people who, by no
stretch of courtesy, could be counted among the
upper ten. These were chiefly young men who
dressed well, had dash and assurance of manner,
and, were commonly to be met with on fashionable
thoroughfares, in the corridors and billiard-rooms
of the best hotels, on base-ball grounds and race-
tracks, and, towards the small hours of the night,
at certain restaurants and other places of resort
more remarkable for brilliance and liveliness than
for respectability, in which the company ceased
to be exclusively masculine, and was yet not im-
proved by the alteration. Percy had his choice, and
this was the class with which he chose more and
more to associate. They were, as a class, not
wealthy ; nevertheless to be with them was not
necessarily to be economical; neither did it involve
regular habits or early hours. Before long Percy
was convinced that the sort of life he was leading

8 THE NOLENS.

was not compatible with making a home under his
mother's roof ; so he took bachelor rooms on the
west side of the city, and went to bed and got up
at what o'clock it best pleased him. He did not
keep away from home altogether ; he would drop in
now and then, when nothing else was going on,
sometimes to lunch, sometimes to dinner, sometimes
to accompany his sister to the opera or theatre; but
he had cut loose from his mother's apron-strings,
and showed no present signs of meaning to come
back to them. He was living a fast life, and not
the best kind of fast life either.

One of the executors of Mr. Bartemus Nolen's
will was Judge Odin Ketelle, a gentleman who had
at one period been a partner of Nolen's, and had
always remained on intimate and friendly terms
with the family. He was a man of position and
influence, and was quietly and steadily amassing a
large fortune. Mrs. Nolen, in her anxiety about
Percy, naturally turned to this friend for counsel ;
and probably she could not have done better, if she
were to do anything. The judge heard her timid
and fond complaints, in which she tried to shield
the son whose misdeeds she was forced to expose.
When she had finished, he sat with his hands
folded on the table, and his eyes under their thick
eyebrows fixed in thoughtful contemplation, as he
had been wont to sit on the bench, when consider-
ing some point of law advanced by counsel.

" If a boy wants to be a fool, he mostly succeeds
in his wish," he remarked after awhile, "Percy

THE NOLENS. 9

has a good deal of untamed blood in his composi-
tion, and he will probably work it off in his own
fashion. His father gave him his money without
conditions or restrictions, hoping that the sense of
responsibility would sober him ; but it will need
more than that. He will spend it— that is, throw
it into the gutter — and then we may look for the
dawning of reason in him."

" I am sure he is a good boy," said his mother.
" He is only full of life, and thoughtless."

" There is no reason to suppose him actually
vicious," the judge replied, " and, that being the
case, we may expect that the want of money will
bring him to terms. I do not look to see his father's
son commit any act that will bring him under the
cognizance of the law ; he is, I take it, incapable of
any dishonesty ; consequently, when he becomes
bankrupt, he must do one of three things : either
he will sit down and starve like a gentleman, or he
will find some employment that will give him a
living, or he will comeback to you, like his prodigal
prototype in Holy Writ."

" Percy starve ! Oh, Judge !" faltered Mrs.
Nolen.

" Do not be uneasy ; Percy will not starve," re-
turned he with a slight flavor of irony in his tone.
" He is not naturally disposed to asceticism, nor has
he the kind of pride that would prompt him rather to
die than to betray signs of human weakness. On the
other hand, he is clever and quick, and could easily
pick up an honest livelihood in other ways than by

10 THE NOLENS.

pursuing his project of mining, should he find it
necessary to forego that. But my own anticipation
is, my dear Mary, that he is too lazy, and that his
habits of application, such as they were, have
become too much broken up to make that course
likely. What I do expect is that he will come
back to you and ask you to provide for him."

" That is all I ask ! " Mrs. Nolen exclaimed.

" I have no doubt of it, my dear," answered the
Judge with a smile. " But in this connection there
is something that I wish to impress upon you very
strongly. Do not, as you value his ultimate wel-
fare, not to speak of your own, give him any money
without first consulting me. If you fail to observe
this precaution, depend upon it you will get into
trouble. I know what young men are, and
how they regard their mothers — as just so
much indulgent soft-heartedness to be taken ad-
vantage of ! No, it isn't cynicism ; it's the truth ;
and so you will find it. Now, what Percy needs is
the conviction that there is no choice for him but
to work. So long as he thinks that he can be sup-
ported without working he will remain idle. It
may be hard for you to refuse him, but unless you
do you will only work him an ill turn. You are
not a rich woman by any means. Bartemus — it is
as well you should know it now — lost a large part
of his fortune by injudicious investments ; and
when you take out of that the sum secured to
Pauline as her dower — a sum which, fortunately,
neither you nor she can touch for three years to

THE NOLENS. n

come — you will have left barely enough to live
comfortably on. As for Percy's twenty thousand,
we may look upon that as being as good
as gone ; it is only a question of time, and no very
long time. Until it is gone it is no use attempting
to influence him. So much for that ! But now,
my dear Mary," continued the Judge, changing his
tone, " I wish to speak to you on another matter
of no small moment to you, to myself — and to
Pauline ! "

CHAPTER II.

SUITORS.

MRS. NOLEN'S face, which had assumed an
expression of pensive and brooding sadness,
brightened at her daughter's name, and she looked
up at the judge with an expectant air.

" Pauline is now eighteen years old," the latter
observed. " As I look back, it seems impossible,
but so it is. I remember her as an infant lying in
your arms ; and it does not seem to me that I have
changed much since then. And yet, Pauline is a
woman, and has more character and substance, too,
than many a woman of twice her age. What mir-
acles time works ! "

" She is the best girl in the world ! " said the
mother tenderly.

" I am much inclined to agree with you," re-
sponded the judge.

" She is so strong, so clear-sighted, so faithful
and upright," pursued Mrs. Nolen. " And yet
there is nothing cold or unsympathetic about her.
When her emotions are touched, she seems all fire
and spirit. I am sure no sister ever loved her
brother, nor any daughter her mother, as Pauline
loves Percy and me."

" I can well believe it. And have you ever seen

SUITORS. 13

signs in her of another sort of love — not that of
the daughter or the sister ? "

" Oh, I am afraid to think of that ! " returned
Mrs. Nolen, pressing her white hands nervously
together. " It is so easy for a girl to make a mis-
take ; and for her a mistake would be fatal ! "

" I think she has good sense enough not to fall
into any serious error," said the judge, " though I
am no less persuaded that, if she loved a man who
in himself was worthy of her, she would allow no
considerations of merely selfish prudence to pre-
vent her union with him. But I was going to ask
you," he added, with a certain subdued anxiety in
his deep-toned voice, " whether it has come to your
knowledge — whether you have any reason to think
that she has already met any one who — whom she
would be likely to prefer to any one else ? "

" I have not thought of it — it has not occurred
to me ! " said Mrs. Nolen, with an accent of appre-
hension, looking at the judge with wide-open eyes.

" It is hardly too soon to take such a possibility
into consideration," he returned. " Pauline is
mature for her age ; and it is not too much to say
that she is one of the most beautiful young women
in New York. You take her a good deal into
society : she can hardly fail to meet with admira-
tion."

" Yes, yes, you are right," said the mother.
** Now that you speak of it, I see that such a thing
may happen. But she has spoken to me of no one ;
and I am sure she would have spoken, if — "

14 SUITORS.

" Do not trust too much to that," he interposed.
" A young girl, with a mind as healthy and pure as
hers, does not readily ask herself if she be in love ;
she may become so before she is aware of it, and
only the avowal of her lover will open her eyes.
Till then, you cannot expect her to speak of it to
you. And then, if she have made up her mind, it
would be too late to speak."

" But would you advise me to question her ?
Might it not suggest to her something which she
otherwise would not have thought of ? "

" That is not improbable. But why not approach
the matter from the other side ? Is there no one
among the young men who know her who have
shown signs of any particular interest in her ? "

" They all seem to admire her," said Mrs. Nolen.
" But I can think of no one in particular — unless
it be Percy's friend, Mr. Martin."

" Valentin^ Martin — the young Englishman ? "

" Yes. Percy sometimes brings him here. But
his being a friend of Percy makes a difference
between him and the others."

"How so?"

" In the fact of his being here oftener. I mean,
if it were not for that I should think his visits had
some further significance."

" I am not altogether convinced that his being a
friend of Percy would deprive his visits of signifi-
cance," said the judge. " It is conceivable, at any
rate, that he might have made a friend of Percy in
orrder to facilitate his access to Pauline."

SUITORS. 15

"He seemed a frank, straightforward young
man, not one you would suspect of doing any thing
underhand."

The judge laughed ; a very low, pleasant laugh
he had, which made those who heard it disposed at
once to like him. " You are more like a nun, in
your unsuspiciousness and unworldliness, than like
a married woman who goes in New York society,"
said he. " Let me assure you, my dear, that a man
in love is not to be held a criminal, or even a hypo-
crite, if he uses some strategy to get near the object
of his affection. I should forgive Mr. Martin even
if he went so far as to pretend a cordiality for
Percy that he did not really feel, if so he might
induce Percy to admit him to the intimacy of your
household. No, if we are to take exceptions to him,
it must be from another standpoint. What do you
know about his personal history and his social
standing in his own country ? "

" I suppose it must be good," said Mrs. Nolen.
" I think he said that his family owned a large
estate in Cumberland."

" Is he the eldest son ? "

" The next to the eldest, I believe."

" And what is his business in America ? "

" I don't know. But a great many English peo-
ple come here nowadays, you know. It is a part of
their education."

" Yes ; but some of them are pretty well educated
before they get here," remarked the judge drily,
" and occasionally they manage to teach us some-

1 6 SUITOXS.

thing before they leave. There is, in England, the
same difference between an eldest son and the
other sons that there is between a rich man and a
pauper. By the law of primogeniture the estates,
and generally the bulk of the money, goes to the
first-born ; the other boys get positions, if they can,
in the army, the civil service, or the church. They,
are seldom fitted to enter the learned professions ;
and it is not considered good form for a gentleman's
son to go into trade. Of course the army and the
church don't afford accommodation for all appli-
cants ; and the consequence is that every year a num-
ber of young Englishmen are thrown on the world,
who by training and inclination are good for nothing
but to be idle and ornamental, and who neverthe-
less have no means for honestly leading such a
life. They form a class of gentleman adventurers.
They are men of agreeable manners and culture,
talk well, look well, are excellent at cards and
billiards, and live no one knows how. Some of
them come over here, for reasons known only to
themselves ; they are very pleasant acquaintances ;
but it is well not to trust them too far. They have
no fixed place in the world, and no responsibility."

"You don't mean that Mr. Martin is — an adven-
turer ? " demanded Mrs. Nolen, in a voice of faint
consternation.

" So far as I know, he may be the best fellow in
England. But I know nothing about him, one way
or the other. How did Percy become acquainted
with him ? "

SUITORS. 17

" He met him somewhere, — at some club, I
imagine."

" That may be all right, or it may not. At all
events, you will see that you should proceed with
some circumspection. The rules that apply to our
young men do not necessarily apply to foreigners.
Mr. Martin may be much better educated, and have
more polished and quiet manners, than nine out of
ten of your American acquaintances ; and yet it
might be better that Pauline should marry the
least attractive of the latter than Mr. Mar-
tin."

" I wish you would see him, and find out whether
he is nice," said Mrs. Nolen, with anxious earnest-
ness.

" I would willingly do so, but for one reason,"
the judge replied, " and that is that the peculiar
circumstances might disqualify me from forming
an unbiassed opinion."

" Oh, I am not afraid of that. My husband used
to say that there could be no one more impartial
and just than you."

" Even assuming that judgment of his to have
been impartial, I should nevertheless be disquali-
fied from presiding at a trial where, for instance,
the prisoner was charged with the murder of some
friend of my own."

" I do not understand. Mr. Martin has surely
not murdered any one ? "

" Bless me, no ! I was only using an extreme
illustration. But Mr. Martin might wish to obtain

1 8 SUITORS.

something which I had set my own heart on pos-
sessing."

There was a manifest embarrassment in the
judge's manner. Mrs. Nolen looked puzzled. She
began to suspect there was something behind all
this, but she could not divine what it was.

" I began life pretty early, as you know," con-
tinued he, after a pause. " Since the age of four-
teen, I believe, I have supported myself. Measur-
ing my existence by that standard, I might be
called an old man. But though, in the matter of
years, I am not exactly a boy, yet I am but forty-
three years old, and you will admit, my dear, that
men have been known to live a good deal longer
than that."

" I am sure you will live to be twice forty-three,"
put in Mrs. Nolen kindly.

" Half that is all I would ask, if I might real-
ize the happiness that I hope for," returned the
judge, with a faint smile.

" And is this happiness any thing that I can help
to insure you ? "

'• I can hardly say that. In fact, it is essential,
in one way, that it should come, if it come at all, as
freely and spontaneously as the sunshine from
heaven. Nevertheless, I am under obligation to
speak to you of my hopes, that you may appreciate
my position and understand my conduct." He
stopped, and the color mounted to his face. " I
love Pauline," he said, a strong emotion vibrating

SUITORS. 19

in his voice. " I hope to make her love me and
to accept me for her husband."

" Oh, Judge ! " exclaimed Mrs. Nolen, taken
wholly by surprise. She looked at him intently for
a few moments, and then the startled look in her
face softened, and she began to smile. She left her
chair, and, coming to where he sat, put a hand upon
his shoulder ; and as he looked up at her she bent
down and kissed him upon the forehead. She was
still smiling, but there were tears in her eyes.

" Do you think me absurd ? " said the judge.

" I think you are right," was her reply. " At
first I could not believe — I had always looked up
to you as to a sort of elder brother — I could not
imagine you as the husband of my little daughter
— my own son-in-law. But I think you are right.
Pauline is a little girl no longer ; in almost every
thing but years she is older than I ; she is fitted to
be the wife of a man even so much older than her-
self as you are. No one of her own age would
suit her as well."

" Then you will not be against me ? " he said,
starting up.

" Indeed, I will not. All that I do shall be done
for you." SJk^f put her hands in his, and he
grasped them warmly. " It is more than half self-
ishness in me," she added. " It would give me
some right to rely on you. I should not feel so
lonely."

" However this may turn out, always know that
you may rely on me," the judge returned, with

20 SUITORS.

deep feeling. " Our friendship began long ago,
Mary, and doesn't need any other tie to bind it. If
Pauline, when the question is put before her, decides
against me — and I am fully aware how easily that
may be her verdict — I shall accept it like a man,
and you will remember that, so far as I am con-
cerned, it will involve not the slightest change in
my devotion to you and yours. I shall leave no
honorable means untried to win her ; but, above
all things, I desire to avoid forcing her inclination,
either by any act of my own, or through you.
That you should approve of my purpose is all
I ask. Leave the rest to Providence, and to her."

" I understand," said Mrs. Nolen, " and, indeed,
if I wished to help you, I should not do it by sing-
ing your praises to her. You being what you are,
the best thing to do is to leave her to find you out
for herself."

" If Mr. Martin be my rival," resumed the judge,
let him have his chance, and defeat me if he can.
If he be the better man, it will appear ; and God
forbid that I should make her my wife, knowing
that she would have been happier with another.
But if love go for any thing, I love her well, and in
all my life she is the first and only woman I have
loved."

" You might have rivals more dangerous than
Mr. Martin," returned the mother, with another
smile ; and so the interview came to a close.

CHAPTER III.

MRS. CUTHBERT TUNSTALL.

"T7 VENTS were shaping themselves for disaster ;
JH/ but, for the time being, they seemed to go
smoothly enough.

Percy Nolen maintained his brilliant career, and
attained a certain distinction among the persons
with whom he associated. He was a big, hand-
some youth, with broad shoulders and sturdy limbs,
a clever boxer, a good whip, a fair billiard player ;
his spirits were exuberant, and he had more mental
resources and ideas than are vouchsafed to the
generality of young gentlemen of his kind. Thus he
assumed, to some extent, the position of a leader
among them ; and, as he was uniformly good-
natured and yet not to be imposed upon, he was
liked and not laughed at.

But his favorite companion and friend was Val-
entine Martin. The two men were nearly the same
age, Martin being a little the elder, and were a
good deal alike in size and personal appearance.
Martin, being English, wore side-whiskers, and
Percy, being American, wore a mustache. tMar-
tin was inclined to be fair, and Percy to be dark ;
but they might have been taken to be brothers.

22 MRS. CUTHBERT TUNSTALL.

The Englishman, however, was of a somewhat
gloomier temperament than the American ; more
reticent, and more given to moods and ine-
qualities of temper. He had brought with him
several good letters of introduction, and had
duly delivered them ; but he had availed himself
but sparingly of the social courtesies extended to
him, seeming to prefer a less formal and regular
life. He made no pretense of large wealth, but,
on the other hand, he never seemed to be cramped
for means, and no one could be found from whom
he had borrowed money. If he were a trifle mys-
terious, nobody was concerned to fathom his mys-
tery, for it was no one's interest to do so. Valen-
tine Martin had not come to America to speculate,
to organize a company, to raise capital, or to do any
of those things that are apt to render engaging
foreigners suspicious in our eyes. He had appa-
rently come to amuse himself, and mind his own
affairs ; and after a time he was permitted to fol-
low this innocent inclination. The upper ten,
whom he neglected, ceased to take an active interest
in him, and those with whom he associated relin-
quished the vain effort to persuade him to reveal
his secret, and came to the sensible conclusion
that there was probably no secret to reveal.

The acquaintance and subsequent friendship
between Martin and Percy Nolen had sprung up
spontaneously, without any formal introduction.
They had tastes and ideas in common, and they
mutually pleased one another. Martin's was per-

MRS. CUTHBERT TUN STALL. 23

haps the stronger character, but Percy's was the
more enterprising and lively ; so that they were
upon fairly even terms. One day the Englishman
accepted an invitation to come and take afternoon
tea at the Nolens' ; he met Pauline on that
occasion, and it was not afterwards necessary to
urge him to repeat his visit. Pauline was inter-
ested in him as an Englishman, and after discuss-
ing his native country with him admitted him to a
certain degree of friendship, partly on her brother's
recommendation, partly on his own account. He
seemed gloomy at times, and she was sorry for
him, without knowing, or even caring to inquire,
what made her so. At other times he conversed
in a manner that interested her and stimulated her
to talk in return; and, though Pauline was but a
girl, she had a mind that was worth coming in
contact with. The Englishman never made any
direct demand upon her sympathies or emotions,
and probably he gained rather than lost by this
forbearance. When a woman has insight, she
would rather exercise her intuitions than have
things explained to her.

Matters went on in this manner for several
months, and the year's vacation which Percy had
allowed himself was more than up. He had as yet
shown no sign of being bankrupt, unless a certain
abstraction of manner at times, accompanied by a
biting of his nails, and a drumming with his foot,
might be construed as symptoms of approaching
impecuniosity. But another affair, not connected

24 MRS. CUTHBEKT TUN STALL.

with finance, was going on at this period which,
unless put an end to betimes, might result in trouble.

There was a young married woman in New
York society named Mrs. Cuthbert Tunstall.
Her husband, also young, had inherited from his
father an immense business in coal. Cuthbert
Tunstall was fond of activity, and he plunged into
his coal with hearty good-will, intent upon creating
a fortune twice as large as that which his father
had left him. As a matter of course, and of neces-
sity, he was absent all day at his office, and was
often obliged to run down to the mines to oversee
things there in person.

His wife was the daughter of an aristocratic
Knickerbocker family ; she had been a reigning
belle in her coming-out year, and the year follow-
ing the match between her and Tunstall had been
made. She liked her husband, because he was a
good fellow, because he was in love with her, and
because he was considered a big catch ; but she
cared nothing for coal, and was jealous of his
devotion to it. She wanted him to be devoted to
her and to nobody else. She hated to think of him
working — actually working — all day long. He
came home to dinner, it was true ; but he was not
fond of dining out, and when dinner was over, he
was tired, and liked to stay quietly at home and
go to bed at half-past ten. Such an existence as
this was the next thing to unendurable to a woman
like Sylvia Tunstall. Forty years hence, perhaps,
this Darby-and-Joan kind of life might be practi-

MAS. CUTHBERT TUN STALL. 25

cable ; but not now, in the flush of youth, variety,
and curiosity ! She absolutely would not stand it !

Tunstall was a manly, straightforward, single-
hearted fellow, and at first he did not comprehend
his wife's attitude. He had homely ideas of mar-
ried life, and the routine of social dissipation.was
without attractions for him. When at last he
learnt how matters stood, he thought it over, and
came to the conclusion that his wife had much
reason on her side. She was young, good look-
ing, and full of the wine of life, and it was only nat-
ural and proper in her to wish to see and to be seen.
So he began by attempting to " go out " with her ;
but he presently discovered that going to bed at two
o'clock in the morning was not compatible with
having breakfast at half-past seven. He then
tried giving dinners twice a week and a reception
once a month ; but Sylvia pointed out to him that
the customs of good society demanded that they
should accept invitations as well as give them : so
that his second state bade fair to be even worse
than his first. What was to be done ? He would
not consent to give up his business ; on that point
he was firm. Sylvia was equally convinced that it
was impossible to give up society. For a time
there threatened to be a deadlock.

Finally a compromise was effected. Sylvia had
relations, and particular friends, who were in so-
ciety, and of whose escort and countenance she
could avail herself. Her husband could take her
to places, and her relatives or friends could bring

26 MRS. CUTHBERT TUNST&LL.

her home again. By degrees it was found unneces-
sary to have him take her, and she both went
and returned without him. His anticipations of
domestic felicity were disappointed ; but Sylvia
was enjoying herself, and he always looked forward
to a,time when she would weary of gayety and return
to him. He loved her as much as ever, and was
proud of her social popularity ; he had perfect
faith in her truth and honor. He ate his dinner
and went to bed alone, and when he rose in the
morning he was careful not to awaken his wife.
That was the style of the menage.

But Cuthbert Tunstall was not a fool— a fact
which his wife perhaps failed to fully appreciate.
As long as her conduct was above reproach, accord-
ing to the somewhat vague standards of society, he
would not interfere with her pleasures ; but he
was not the man to permit the least step beyond
this. And though he was naturally unsuspicious,
and slow to wrath, any one who understood men
would have known that it would be uncomfortable
to arouse him. But Sylvia got the idea that she
could do exactly as she pleased ; and she did it.

One day, Tunstall got a hint from some precious
friend of his — a very distant, indirect, ambiguous,
and innocent hint, but a hint all the same. He
appeared not to understand it, and passed it over
without comment ; but the repressed emotion which
it aroused was so strong that he came near faint-
ing where he stood.

He attended to his business the same as usual,

MRS. CUTHBERT TUN STALL. 27

returned home at his customary hour, and sat
clown to his solitary dinner. His wife was upstairs,
dressing. By and by she came down to say good-
by to him for the evening, She was beautifully
dressed, and was lovely to look upon. Cuthbert
looked at her in silence.

" Good-night, dear," she said, drawing on her
gloves. " I suppose you won't be up when I come
home."

" Not if you come at your usual time."

u I wish you'd drop your horrid business, and
come with me."

" I am more useful as I am. Do you know a
gentleman by the name of Percy Nolen ? "

" Percy Nolen ? No — yes — I believe I do."

These were her words ; but her face, and the
tone of her voice, betrayed her ; and they both
knew it.

" He is an agreeable fellow, isn't he ? " pursued
the husband, quietly.

" I suppose he is like the rest ; all men are alike
to me — except you, of course, dear ! But why do
you ask ? "

'• Some one who knows him happened to mention
him to-day. Well, and what is going on to-night ? "

" Dine at Mrs. Murray's, and then the theatre."

" Won't you want something to eat when you get
home ? "

" Oh, no. Don't bother. I shan't be hungry."

" It might be better to order something to be
ready for you here than to take supper at Del-

^ MRS. CUTHBERT TUN STALL.

monico's," he said slowly, looking her in the
eyes.

She turned away her eyes after a moment, ostensi-
bly to pull up her cloak. " I had no idea of going to
Delmonico's," she said, in a slightly strained voice.

" Of course not ! " he repeated ; and then he
turned to his evening paper, and she went out,
with a smile on her lips, and fear in her heart.

Her husband had given her warning, and he
hoped against hope that it would be sufficient. He
would not take the next step unless she compelled
him to it; but he was resolved (and she partly felt
it) that the next step would be final. How much
he actually knew of her .flirtation with Percy she
could of course only conjecture. She had taken sup-
per with him in. a private room of a fashionable res-
taurant the night before. They had not been alone :
there had also been present another young married
woman ; and a young man not married. But the
two couples had not been in each other's way, they
had rather helped each other out. It was certainly
not an affair which Sylvia would have wished to
have generally known — least of all to be suspected
by her husband. Did he know about it ? or had his
questions been only the result of chance ? She
wished to believe the latter, but she could not.
There had been something in the very quietness of
his tone and manner that had appalled her. She had
not thought that he had it in him to frighten her.
Evidently she had been too careless — too thought-
less. After all, she did not seriously care for

MRS. CUTHBERT TUtfSTALL. 29

Percy Nolen. It had been a mere flirtation for
pastime. She had not supposed that her husband
would care much, even if he knew. He had not, of
late, betrayed any very passionate affection for her,
If he loved her, why did he not accompany her on
her social rounds ? It was ridiculous to say that he
was obliged to attend to his business. They had
plenty of money without any business. There was
nothing, except his own obstinacy, to prevent him
from retiring- to-morrow and never going near his
office again. But if he preferred his business to his
wife, why could he not allow his wife her prefer-
ences ? It was unjust and tyrannical.

Nevertheless, if he was determined to be ugly
about it of course there must be no scandal. She
would tell Percy, the next time she saw him, that
the acquaintance must cease. It was not worth
while to run any risks on his account. Having
made up her mind to this, she was more at
ease.

After the second act at the theatre, Percy Nolen
came into her box. She greeted him coldly, but he
sat down beside her, and began to make various
propositions. She repulsed him, but not very
vigorously. At last she whispered, " You must
really be more careful ! People are beginning to
observe us. If any thing should happen, I would
never forgive you ! "

" I will take every precaution, but — I love you ! "
he replied in her ear. He had never said so much
before, and she turned pale and gave him a look.

.30 MXS. CUTHBERT TUNSTALL.

The curtain went up on the next act, show-
ing how the hero, by a combination of circum-
stances, was arrested and taken to Police Head-
quarters.

CHAPTER IV.

NEEDS MUST.

JUDGE KETELLE'S prophecy was delayed;
but it came true at last ; and Mrs. Nolen did
not keep her promise to him.

One morning Percy came to the house, and
came up to his mother's boudoir, where she was
sitting reading Mr. Shorthouse's romance of " John
Inglesant." Mrs. Nolen was not given to reading
fiction as a rule ; but Mr. Shorthouse was under-
stood to be a religious writer, and she enjoyed his
book very much without entirely understanding it.
Percy kissed her, and sat down in a chair opposite.
After a little desultory conversation he said
" Mother, I'm in a scrape ! "

Her heart sank ; she closed her book, and folded
her hands upon it. " Oh, my son ! " she said,
falteringly.

" Well, it's nothing so very dreadful," he returned,
forcing a smile. " I was up at Monmouth Park
the other day, and lost a little money — well, it was
a pretty good sum, for me. I'm not a Croesus, you
know, and a few thousand dollars makes a dif-
ference."

32 NEEDS MUST.

" Monmouth Park ? What is that ? "
" It's a track ; they race horses there, you know."
" Percy, have you been betting on horse-races ? "
" Mercy, mother, it's no crime ! All the fellows
do it. I should look queer if I didn't chip in with
the rest ! Only this time I happened to get in
pretty deep ; and as all the favorites were beaten
I got badly left."

" Do you mean that you lost all the money you
wagered ?"

" Every cent of it ; you never saw such a run of
bad luck in your life. The trouble was, I made up
my mind to win anyhow ; so each time I lost I put
it all on the next race, so as to get back what was
gone, and more into the bargain. It was as good
as certain that I wouldn't lose every race, you see.
So when it came to the last I had a big pile on ;
and it was voted a sure thing. I believe it was
the jockey's fault, after all. Anyhow, he lost the
race by a short head ; and if I hadn't had a return
ticket I'd have been obliged to walk home."

" All your money gone ! Why, my son, if you had

invested it, you might have lived comfortably on

the interest of it ! And your father gave it to you

to start you in your profession. What can you do ? "

" Well, mother, I must do the best I can. I know

it's all wrong, and I'm very sorry, and all that.

But it's no use crying for spilt milk. I'm in a hole,

and I've got to be helped out of it, somehow ! "

" I will speak to Judge Ketelle, and see what — "

" Whatever you do, don't speak to Judge Ketelle !

NEEDS MUST. 33

He can do no good, and would be certain to do a
lot of mischief. What business is it of Judge
Ketelle's, anyway ? "

" He was appointed executor under the will,
and — "

" That is no concern of mine, mother. My
interest in the will ceased when I got my patrimony.
I have no further relations with the judge, nor he
with me. He has no right to help me, even if he
wanted to, which he doesn't."

" My son, he is the best friend I have, and what-
ever is for our good—

" My dear mother, I tell you it won't do ! I
know what the judge would say, and after he had
said it I would be no better off than I am now. I
have some pride, and I don't want all the world to
know that I'm a beggar. I shouldn't think you
would, either."

" Percy, you know I wish nothing but your good,
but — "

" The long and short of the matter is that unless
I am to be disgraced. I must have some money,
and without any delay, too. I owe a few bills —
they don't amount to much — and I must Jiave a
little to go on with. A thousand dollars would
cover the whole thing. You can let me have it,
can't you ?"

" A thousand dollars ! But after that, Percy ?
You will be wanting money all the time, and this
cannot go on forever."

" It isn't going on forever. This is the first time

34 iVEEDS MUST.

I have ever asked you for a cent, mother, and it
shall be the last. Heaven knows, it was hard
enough to have to come to you at any rate ; but I
didn't expect you would make it harder by arguing
about it ! "

" My dearest boy, you might have all 1 possess,
so far as I am concerned — "

" Who else is concerned except you ? a thousand
dollars isn't going to ruin you, mother, but. it is
ruin to me if I don't get it. And don't fear I shall
be coming to you again. I am going to stop the
kind of life I have been living the last year, and
turn over a new leaf. I have several opportunities
to get positions in the city, and I am going to set
to work at once and find out what will be the best
thing. As soon as I am in a place where I can
turn around, I shall put in my spare time study-
ing up my mining, and before another year is out,
I shall be ready to accept an engagement. I can
support myself as well as the next man — and make
a fortune, too ! But I don't suppose you want to
see me miss all that for the sake of a paltry thou-
sand dollars ? "

The grid of it was that Mrs. Nolen gave him a
thousand dollars. She tried to make him promise
that he would come and live under her own roof ;
but he put her off with a temporizing reply, alleg-
ing, in no very logical vein, that he did not wish to
make himself a burden to her ; but when he got
" fixed " so that he could pa)^ her for his board
and lodging he would come with pleasure.

NEEDS MUST. 35-

The request indicated that getting fixed was an
operation that required time. The fact was that
Percy paid sums on account to his most pressing
creditors, including the proprietor of his lodgings,
and went on living much as before ; to salve his
conscience he did make some inquiries about
work, but not in such a manner as to secure prac-
ticable answers. One subject possessed his mind,
and that was Mrs. Tunstall. It was impossible
for him to live with his mother while that affair
was going on. His infatuation was intensified by
Sylvia's timidity and reluctance. A man's brains
count for nothing in such a matter. Percy lived
in the desire of the moment ; he gave no thought
to the inevitable consequences. If he might see
her to-day, or to-morrow, no matter about the day
after, and no matter that the meeting was fraught
with danger both to her and to him. The differ-
ence between a good desire and an evil one gener-
ally is that the former is sane and the latter has
more or less of insanity.

Sylvia's heart was not engaged — if she could be
said to have a heart — and it was clear in her mind
that she must run no risk of compromising herself.
At the same, had it been in her power to banish
Percy forever by the utterance of a single word,
it is doubtful if she would have done it. She knew
that, were her husband to discover any further
correspondence between them, he would not hesi-
tate to act decisively and finally, and the first
result of that action would be that she would find

36 NEEDS MUST.

herself cast upon the world with a damaged repu-
tation. Such a thing was not to be thought of.
But the very peril of her position was an allure-
ment to linger in it ; and then there was the excite-
ment of knowing that a man was in love with her
who had no business to be so, and who was willing
to go all lengths for her. Moreover, she was
angry as well as dismayed because her husband had
spoken to her as he did (like all women, she inter-
preted what was said by what was meant), and
found a pleasure in defying him in thought if not
in deed. So, although she did not openly and
explicitly encourage Percy, she allowed him to
believe that he was not indifferent to her.

Neither he nor she had committed any actual
sin, but they were on the road to do so. People
always believe that they can pull up at the last
moment, and are therefore willing to go on until
the last moment is reached. But by that time
events combine in an unforeseen manner and push
them over the edge. Then they are astonished to
find themselves linked with the brotherhood of
crime. And, once that link is forged, it defies all
attempts to break it.

It happened before long that Percy needed more
money. He had less than two hundred dollars left,
and he owed more than that. He did not wish to
go to his mother again, partly from shame, partly
because he knew that, in order to raise the sum he
needed, she would be obliged to sell some stock,
and that would involve applying to Judge Ketelle.

NEEDS MUST. 37

One night, at a club, he was asked to take a hand
at a game of poker with three others. He sat
down and played with varying success for an hour
or two. Then two of the quartette withdrew, and
he and the other kept on.

Percy had faith in his luck, and had fortified
himself with several whiskey cocktails. His op-
ponent was a quiet man, and seemed to be in a
dejected and timid frame of mind. The chips on
the table represented a good deal of money, how
much exactly Percy did not know ; he meant to
win it all. Some good cards were dealt to him ;
he drew, and found himself in possession of a
superb hand. He was quite certain that his adver-
sary held no such cards, and he began to bet. His
adversary was drawn into raising him ; they con-
tinued to raise each other. Percy swallowed an-
other cocktail, and felt that he could not lose. He
acted upon this conviction, and lost. Upon in-
vestigation, it appeared that the quiet man had
won not only Percy's original stakes but some
nine hundred dollars into the bargain.

Percy preserved a calm exterior, and wrote his
I. O. U. for the amount, to be redeemed within
twenty-four hours. Meanwhile, he was in a cold
sweat of consternation, for he did not know how he
was to get the money. It was too large a sum to
borrow from any of his acquaintances : those
whom he knew well enough to approach on such a
matter were aware of his financial standing, and
would not lend any thing. There was nothing for

38 XEEDS MUST.

it but to go to his mother. The money must be
forthcoming. If he failed to pay, he would be dis-
honored ; Sylvia would hear of it. ... No !
he must have the money at any cost.

He went to bed, passed a very bad night, and
after attempting to eat some breakfast he betook
himself to his mother's house. The nature of his
errand was so apparent in his manner and appear-
ance that she divined it at once. The interview
that ensued was a very painful one to both parties.

Mrs. Nolen had not got the money, and could
not get it for a week at least. She convinced her
son by documentary evidence that such was the
case. It might be possible to borrow from Judge
Ketelle ; there was no other way. These were
facts which no arguments or entreaties could alter.
Mrs. Nolen was terribly agitated by the revelation
of her son's incorrigible perversity, and her tears
and anguish put him in almost a suicidal frame of
mind. It seemed to him that if he could only es-
cape from this predicament he would never allow
himself to get caught again. But there was no es-
cape, except through the judge, and that was al-
most as bad as no escape at all. The judge, even
if he agreed to the loan, was not the man to spare
Percy a plain and severe statement of the repre-
hensibility of his behavior. The young man
writhed in anticipation of this rebuke. He knew
he deserved it, but it would not be easier to endure
on that account. Under ordinary circumstances
he might rebel and answer back ; but it would not

NEEDS MUST, 39

do to fight with a man whom he was begging
money of. He had always been proud of his pride ;
now that pride was going to suffer a fatal humilia-
tion. Only one thing could be worse, and that was
to inform his opponent of the night before that he
could not pay him. Percy wished that he had
never been born, and then he wished that he were
dead.

The first wish being impracticable, and the
second one that he did not care to put into practice,
he left his mother's house in an unenviable frame of
mind, and turned his steps in the direction of Judge
Ketelle's office. He felt gloomy and desperate.
He could understand how men, heretofore respec-
table, were induced to become thieves or robbers.
Had he been a bank-cashier, he felt that he was in
a mood to rob the safe and depart for Canada : or
if he had been alone on a dark road with a wealthy
old gentleman, he could have taken him by the
throat and gone through his pockets. But he was
on Fifth Avenue, in broad daylight, and these
short methods of reimbursing himself were not
available.

He struck into Broadway, and presently, about a
block in advance, he caught sight of a graceful
female figure that he knew, walking in the same
direction with himself. It was Sylvia Tunstall.
He hastened his steps : but just before he came up
with her she turned into a large jewelry shop on
the right.

It was as good a place as another for an inter-

4° XEEDS MUST.

view, and he felt a feverish desire to speak to her.
He followed her into the shop, and, as she came to
a pause at one of the counters, he stood beside her
and uttered her name.

CHAPTER V.

A FATAL MEETING.

rHE shop was a very large one, and was full of
customers, for the holiday season was at hand,
and the wealthier portion of the community was
presenting itself with precious gifts. The custom-
ers were chiefly ladies, though there was also a fair
sprinkling of the other sex. There were also the
salesmen and the walkers, and perhaps a few
other persons whose office was not to promote sales
but to prevent appropriations of stock by individ-
uals who had not gone through the formality of
paying for it. Yet it seemed impossible that,
among such a multitude, the eyes of a detective
should be able to fix upon the malefactors, and
nevertheless a successful theft was a very uncom-
mon occurrence in the great jewelry shop.

When Mrs. Tunstall heard her name, she turned
with a start, and her vivid but pretty face paled.
" Don't stay," she said in a low voice ; " do go !
what is the use of running any risks ? "

" I have as good a right as anybody to be here,"
Percy replied. "If we both happen to be here at
the same time, what of that ? "

42 A FATAL MEETING.

" What is the matter ? You look quite ill ! " she
said.

At this moment a salesman, having despatched
an adjoining customer, presented himself before
her with a " What can I do for you, madam?"
She handed him a card and said, " I have called
about that necklace ; it was to have been ready
this morning." The man took the card, bowed,
and hurried off. She turned again to Percy. Her
muff was in her left hand ; and as she turned she
laid it upon the glass counter, on the side furthest
away from him. His sudden appearance had evi-
dently disconcerted her.

He met her look, and thought how charming she
was. She was dressed in fine black velvet, trimmed
with soft furs, and wore a wonderful bonnet,
adorned with birds' feathers and sparkling points ;
a delicate silken veil was bound around it. Her
oval face, with its bright eyes, small straight nose
and rather full lips, was perfectly pretty ; and now
the blood, which had been driven from her cheeks
for a moment, came ebbing back beneath the trans-
parent skin. She was lovely, luxurious, and rich;
those diamonds in her ears would have paid all his
debts, and he believed that she would relieve his
necessities in a moment had she known of them.
But how impossible it was to tell her ! How
inaccessible she was, though he could have thrown
his arms around her as she stood there ! He felt
a helpless rage — an impulse to seize upon her and
make off with her bodily. If he only had had

A FATAL MEETING. 43

money — money, and plenty of it — there was nothing
so wild that he would not have ventured to propose
it to her. What a power money was in this world !

All this time he stood gazing at her, and saying
not a word.

" What is the matter with you, Percy ? " she
repeated. " What makes you look so ? you are
making every body notice us. Are you — " she
hesitated.

" I am sober, if that's what you mean," he said.
" If we were alone, I would show you what is the
matter with me ! Good God ! is there no place in
the world where we can be alone together for half
an hour ! "

Some one touched him on the arm. He turned
savagely. It was only a gentleman who begged
his pardon ; he had left a cane standing against the
counter. It was not there ; he apologised and
went off. Percy came round to the other side of
Sylvia, and leaned on the counter, taking her muff
in his hands.

" I can't stand this," he resumed. " I never see
you at all now. I have as much right to see you
as any of your acquaintances. You keep out of
my way ! "

" If you would be content to see me as my other
acquaintances do — but you know perfectly well how
dangerous it is. And you could not have chosen
a worse place than this." She bent forward and
added in a whisper, " I expect Mr. Tunstall may
come in at any moment. He knew I was coming

44 A FATAL MEETING.

here this morning about the necklace, and said
something about intending to try and meet me.
Do go ! It will only make it more difficult here-
after."

" It cannot be more difficult than it is already,"
replied Percy sullenly. " I should like to meet
him and have it out with him, if he wants to say
anything ! What is there he can say, for that mat-
ter? He has no business to interfere."

" You don't know him ! "

" He doesn't know me, if he thinks I care for
him ! Why should we mind ? If the worst comes
to the worst, it would only throw us together. I
am ready for it — are you ? "

" Percy, you are crazy ! How can you talk so !
You will make me wish never to see you again.
Nothing of that sort is possible. I never thought
of such a thing."

" Such things have been thought of, and they are
possible. You are not happy as you are now,
Sylvia, and you know it. Why not let society and
respectability go to the devil, where they belong,
and enjoy life in our own way? There are other
places in the world besides New York, or America ? "

" Here is the necklace, Mrs. Tunstall," said the
voice of the salesman. He was standing on the
opposite side of the counter, with the box in his
hands.

She was thankful for the interruption, for she was
becoming seriously alarmed at Percy's manner ;
and, drawing the box towards her, she opened it.

A FATAL MEETING. 45

It contained a necklace of fine diamonds, which
had been selected some time before, and set accord-
ing to Mrs. Tunstall's directions. She examined
them, and expressed her approval. " It is twenty-
five hundred dollars, is it not ? " she said.

" Twenty-five hundred dollars," repeated the
salesman, softly.

She looked around for her muff, which Percy had
just replaced on the counter. She slipped her hand
in it and uttered an exclamation. Then she sent a
quick glance over the counter and on the floor.

" Have you seen it ? " she said, in a startled
tone.

" I beg your pardon ! " said the salesman, blandly.
Percy maintained a gloomy silence and an abstracted
gaze.

" My pocket-book — and some money in bank
notes. I had them in my muff," she exclaimed.
" Have you — " she went on, turning to Percy.

He looked at her uncomprehendingly. " What
is it ?" he demanded.

" My purse — and the money. Why, you had my
muff just now. Didn't you — "

" Did I have your muff ? I wasn't aware of it. I
know nothing about it," said he, unconcernedly.

" But I can't lose it — it must be found — it was
right there ! " she exclaimed again. " It can't have
disappeared into nothing ! "

" May I inquire if the sum was a large one ? "
put in the salesman, softly.

" Why, yes ! there were twenty-five hundred dol-

4 A FATAL MEETING.

lars and some smaller notes in the purse. I had
brought it to pay for the necklace."

By this time several persons had collected, drawn
by the evident agitation of the handsome young
lady ; among them was a small, bright-looking man,
with an alert and confident manner. He subjected
Mrs. Tunstall and Percy to a keen but unobtrusive
scrutiny.

" Perhaps you put it in your pocket," Percy
suggested, who, on hearing so large a sum men-
tioned, had begun to arouse himself from his curi-
ous apathy.

She put her hand in the pocket of her dress and
felt in it anxiously, then shook her head.

" No," she said, " and, besides, I recollect it all
now distinctly. I put the money in my purse when
I went out this morning, and put the purse in my
muff, as I always do. When I got here I took out
the purse and took the notes from it — "

" Pardon me, madam," interposed the bright-
looking man at this point ; " I am connected with
this establishment, and it is my duty to investigate
cases of missing articles. Can you state what was
the denomination of the bills representing the sum
of money — twenty-five hundred dollars I think you
said ? "

" There were four bank-notes," Mrs. Tunstall re-
plied ; " one of a thousand dollars, and three of five
hundred each."

" Thank you," said the man, making a note
on some tablets in his hand. " Do you recollect

A FATAL MEETING. 47

the numbers of the notes, or the banks they be-
longed to ? "

She shook her head. " I didn't look," she said.

" You took these notes out of your purse, you
say — "

" I took them out so as to have them ready. I
was a little nervous about carrying so much money,
and I thought, if I should lose the purse, I would
have the money separate. But now it is all
gone ! "

" After taking the notes out of your purse, what
did you do with them ? " pursued the bright-looking
man.

" I held them in my hand in my muff ; in this
hand," indicating her left. " Then, just as I came
up to the counter, this gentleman spoke to me."

" This gentleman is a friend of yours ? "

Mrs. Tunstall hesitated and colored. " I am
acquainted with him — slightly acquainted with him,"
she said at length.

" Will you oblige me with your name, sir," said
the other, turning to Percy.

" I don't know what my name has got to do with
it ! " returned Percy, rather brusquely. " Who are
you ? "

The man turned back the lapel of his coat and
showed the badge of the Central Detective Bureau.

"I am attending to my business, sir," he said,
" and as you were in this lady's company at the time
the loss occurred you will be needed as a witness, if
for no other purpose ! " He pronounced the last

48 A FATAL MEETING.

words in a peculiar tone, which caused Percy to
turn upon him sharply.

" What do you mean by that ?" he demanded.

" I mean, sir, that it is proper for me to make a
note of your name," the detective replied. " I
have no power, at present, to make you give it,
however."

"'Oh, I have no objection," Percy returned, care-
lessly. " Here is my card," and he handed it to the
other, who read it, nodded, and slipped it into his
pocket.

" Now, madam, what did you do after this
gentleman spoke to you ? "

"Tanswered him."

" Did you still hold the money in your hand ? "

" No," she said, after a moment's thought. " I
took my hand out of the muff, and left it lying there
on the counter."

" Were the purse and the money still in it ? "

"Yes."

"Where was he standing ? "

" He was facing me, on this side."

" So your back was turned on your muff ? "

" For a minute or two — yes."

" Did any one approach you during that time ! "

" Not that I remember. Of course, some one
might have come up behind without my knowing
of it."

" What did you do next ? "

" I think the salesman came up then, and I spoke
to him about the necklace. He went off to. get it."

A FATAL MEETING. 49

" And you continued your conversation with this
gentleman ? "

" Yes."

" Was he in the same position as before ? "

" No — yes — I don't remember ! " She had sud-
denly became embarrassed, and the color flew into
her cheeks again. She glanced at Percy with a
frightened look. There was a short pause.

" Does your memory serve you on that point,
sir," inquired the detective, turning to Percy.

" I have no particular recollection," lie replied ;
" but I know that when the salesman came back
with the necklace this lady was between me and
the door, and I had her muff in my hands."

" That agrees with my own impression," said the
detective drily. " I happened to be looking at you
at the time. Did you notice whether there was
any thing in the muff at the time you were hold-
ing it ? "

" There was nothing in it. I put my hands inside,
and if there had been any thing there I would have
felt it."

" When you first spoke to the lady, you were
between her and the door. Afterwards, you went
round to the other side of her. I want to be sure
I have the details all right, you know. What was
the occasion of your changing 'round ? "

" I don't know. I wasn't thinking of what I was
doing. While she was talking with the salesman I
had nothing to occupy me ; I didn't even remem-
ber that I touched the muff until you asked me."

50 A FATAL MEETING.

The detective glanced over his tablets, and said,
slowly :." The question is, how to reconcile the two
facts : that the muff had the purse and money in it
when you first spoke to the lady, and a few
moments afterwards, when you had hold of it, it
was empty."

" I don't pretend to account for it ; that is your
business, I suppose," Percy replied. " Of course,
if the money was there, somebody must have
taken it out."

" Yes, sir, somebody must have taken it out,"
the detective repeated, fixing his eyes upon the
young man.

" Well, you don't mean to accuse me of it, I sup-
pose," rejoined Percy, with a laugh.

" I am not accusing any body, at present, sir.
What does the lady think ? "

" Oh, of course, that is impossible ! " said Mrs.
Tunstall, looking much distressed.

At this moment a gentleman entered the shop,
glanced this way and that until he saw Mrs. Tun-
stall, and then came straight toward her. As he
approached, Percy recognized him ; it was Cuth-
bert Tunstall. The two men bowed politely and
coldly.

CHAPTER VI.

THE END OF AN INTRIGUE.

WELL, Sylvia," said her husband, " have you
transacted your business ?"

She had been standing with her back toward
him as he approached ; at the sound of his voice
she gave a start, and faced him. Her face
expressed alarm, agitation, and something of defi-
ance. Tunstall, on the contrary, was quiet, cold,
and slightly contemptuous in his bearing. It was
certainly unfortunate that he should have come
upon her and Percy together. For months past
she had taken every precaution to avoid such a
mishap, and now it had occurred, nor had any
advantage accrued as between her and Percy, but
quite the reverse.

" I came in here to pay for the necklace, you
know," she said.

" I know. If you have paid for it, I am ready
to escort you home — unless you have some engage-
ment with this gentleman."

" Oh, I have no engagement. Mr. Nolen hap-
pened to come in and find me here. But — "

" Then perhaps Mr. Nolen will excuse us."

52 THE END OF AN INTRIGUE.

" But, I have just found — I have mislaid my
pocket-book."

"Left it at home?"

" No, I have lost it since I came in here."

" Do you mean it has been stolen from you ? "

" It seems to have been. I can't account for it."

" If you will step this way, madam, and gentle-
men," put in the detective, "we can talk over the
matter in private. There is a parlor at the back,
where we shall not be disturbed. You understand,
sir," he added, addressing Tunstall, " that time is
of importance in such things, and the sooner we
can take measures to capture the thief, the bet-
ter chance there is to recover the bank-notes."

" Let us go in, by all means." said Tunstall. " But
in what manner is Mr. Nolen concerned."

" I was here when the robbery was committed —
if there was a robbery," said Percy, "and, accord-
ing to this detective, my assistance is neces-
sary."

The detective pushed a way through the crowd
that had collected, and led the others to the rear
part of the building, where there was a small room
with chairs and a table. Into this room were ad-
mitted Mr. and Mrs. Tunstall, Percy, and the sales-
man.

" Now, then," said the detective, shutting the
door, and taking up a position with his back toward
it, " plain words don't break any bones, and the
best thing we can do is to clear away whatever may
look puzzling. Here's the way the case stands :

THE END OF AN INTRIGUE. 53

Mrs. Tunstall comes into the shop with her hands
in her muff, and four bank-notes to the amount
of two thousand five hundred dollars were inside,
together with the purse. She comes up to the
counter, and this gentleman," pointing to Nolen,
" comes in right after her, and speaks to her.
While she is talking with him, she lays her muff,
with the money and the purse in it, on the counter,
and turns her back on it. After a while, along
comes the salesman, and while she is speaking to
him this gentleman goes round the other side and
takes up her muff, and turns it in his hands, as it
were. A minute afterwards she takes the muff
from him, and finds that the money and the purse
are gone. The gentleman says he had his hands
in the muff, and that it was empty. That's how
the case stands. Now, I want to know if the gen-
tleman has any thing more to say." And he Iqpked
at Nolen.

" I have told all I know about it," replied Percy
steadily. " I found the muff empty, and if Mrs.
Tunstall had not been so positive that the purse
and the money were in it I should say she must
have been mistaken. The bank-notes might have
fallen on the ground and not been noticed, but the
purse would have been heard to drop."

" May I ask, then, what your theory is ? " in-
quired Tunstall, courteously.

" I have none," he answered shortly.

" And what is yours, Sylvia ? " her husband con-
tinued.

54 THE END OF AN INTRIGUE.

"I'm sure I don't know what to think," she
said in a faltering voice.

The eyes of Tunstall and the detective fixed
themselves upon Percy in silence. He reddened as
he returned the gaze, but whether with anger or with
some other emotion it was impossible to determine.

" Well," he broke out at length, " it seems to me
that I stand in the position of a suspected person.
I can hardly believe, >v he added, in a hoarser voice,
" that I can be seriously charged with picking a
lady's pocket — especially a lady with whom I am
acquainted." He paused ; no one spoke. " Well,
then," he went on, angrily, •' I will say that I repu-
diate the charge, and I will hold to account who-
ever has the face to make it. I mean you, sir ! "
he said, with a fierce look at Tunstall. " Have you
any thing to say to it ? "

" So far as I am aware," said Tunstall, coolly,
" the only person who has spoken of charging you
with the theft is yourself. I was not present, and
can only judge from hearsay. But I will say this,
Mr. Nolen ; if I were in your place, I should wish
to vindicate my innocence in some other way than
by asserting it. I should begin by asking this de-
tective to search my pockets."

" Do you dare to say you want me to be
searched ? " cried Nolen, his face flushing red, while
he advanced a step toward the other, with a threat-
ening gesture.

" That is what an honest man would wish to have
done," replied the other, not flinching.

THE END OF AN INTRIGUE. 55

u Come, come," said the detective, stepping
between them, " we don't want any hard words
here, gentlemen. But I'm bound to tell you, Mr.
Nolen, that Mr. Tunstall is right. There's no dis-
grace in being searched, that I know of ; and it
would be worth more than a lot of loud talking."

Percy stood uncertain for a moment ; then he
stripped off his overcoat, and tossed it to the detec-
tive. " Do as you like," said he. " You have your
duty to perform, I suppose. I will settle with Mr.
Tunstall afterwards."

The detective put his hand into one of the side-
pockets of the overcoat, then into the other.
" Here's something, at any rate," he remarked ; and
with the words he drew out a lady's purse.

Percy uttered a cry, as of utter astonishment and
dismay, and stared at the pocket-book like a man
bewildered.

" Is that yours, Sylvia?" inquired her husband
quietly, taking the purse and handing it to her.

She took it mechanically and opened it. " It is
mine," she said, under her breath.

" Are the notes in it ? " demanded the detective.

She shook her head.

" They are not in the overcoat," the detective
added. " We shall have to pursue our examination
a little further, Mr. Nolen," he said, in a grave
tone.

" I don't understand — I have nothing to say —
there seems to have been some plot against me,"
said Percy, in a dazed manner. " I desire to have

56 THE END OF AN INTRIGUE.

the thing cleared up more than any one else can.
I wish to be taken to the station and examined."

" That's the best sense you've talked yet,"
answered the other, approvingly. " Call a couple
of hacks, Ferris," he said to the salesman, " and
we'll start at once. You charge this man on sus-
picion of the robbery ? " he added, turning to Mrs.
Tunstall.

She was standing with her eyes cast down, and
her hands hanging folded before her, leaning
against the table. She was in a delicate position,
and she knew it. If she sided with Percy, it would
be tantamount to a defiance of her husband — a
defiance which he would never forgive, and would
fight out to the bitter end. It would mean, for her,
loss of social position, and consequent exile and
obscurity, or, if not obscurity, a kind of promi-
nence that no one would envy her. If, on the
other hand, she took sides with her husband, it
would afford the strongest possible indication, in
his eyes, of her virtuous and wifely conduct and
rebuke of the suspicions he had entertained against
her. Moreover, the evidence against Percy was
very strong and plausible. It might be misleading
— and, in the bottom of her heart, she did not
believe him guilty — but, in case it should turn out
that he had yielded to some sudden temptation, it
would be awkward, to say the least, to have com-
promised herself for a felon. Had she loved him,
indeed, there might have been a tragic pleasure in
sacrificing herself ; but it was now revealed to her

THE END OF AN INTRIGUE. 57

that the only love in the matter was a love, not of
Percy, but of excitement. The excitement had run
itself out, and was succeeded by a desire to get out
of the scrape by the shortest route. But did she
feel no remorse at abandoning her lover at the
moment of his greatest need ? No ; the feminine
conscience is not so easily caught. It was with a
glow of conscious virtue and connubial rectitude
that she lifted her pretty face, and addressing her
husband, said.

" Well, I suppose he must have done it. I don't
see who else could have. Yes, I will make the
complaint, though it will be very disagreeable to
appear in a court, among a lot of criminals ! "

She just glanced at Percy as she turned away,
perhaps to see how he would take it. His eyes
were fixed upon her with an expression of half-
incredulous curiosity ; but the next moment he
threw back his head and burst into a loud laugh.
She shrank a little at that sound, and edged toward
the door ; and this was the lovers' parting scene.

Such was the train of events that brought a
young gentleman who might have made a good
and respectable figure in the world to the office of
Inspector Byrnes at Police Headquarters. The
Inspector listened to the story, contemplating the
prisoner and his accusers dreamily in the mean-
while ; and after it was told, he sat for a while ab-
sently making lines on the blotting-pad in front of
him with the point of a paper-knife.

Finally he looked up and briefly requested that

5 8 THE END OF AN INTRIGUE.

every one should withdraw except Mrs. Tunstall
and Percy Nolen. When the three were alone
together, he regarded Mrs. Tunstall pensively and
said,

" How long have you known the prisoner ? "

" Oh, a year or more."

" Has your husband approved of the acquaint-
ance ? "

" How do you mean, sir ? " inquired the lady
with a blush.

" You know what I mean, I think."

" I don't think my husband has ever liked Mr.
Nolen," she replied uneasily.

" Considered him rather detrimental, I sup-
pose ? "

<l Well, I suppose so."

" Were the prisoner and your husband at any
time intimately known to each other ? "

" They knew each other scarcely at all."

" And yet your husband considered him a detri-
mental ? There ought to have been some reason
for that ! Are you prepared to state to me, Mrs.
Tunstall, in Percy Nolen's presence, that your hus-
band's ill opinion of him was in no way connected
with what he knew or suspected of Percy Nolen's
relations with you ? "

The question was put so sternly and gravely
that Mrs. Tunstall was unable to maintain the com-
posure of her countenance. She stammered and
hesitated, and looked first one way and then an-
other. Was it possible that the Inspector, in some

THE END OF AN INTRIGUE. 59

incomprehensible manner, had become acquainted
with the truth ?

" He — I — never asked him the reason of his
opinion," she faltered at length.

" There are many ways of getting rid of a man
when he ceases to be convenient and becomes ob-
jectionable," continued the Inspector. " Are you
ready to stand before me and take your oath that
you honestly and truly believe this man guilty of
stealing your pocket-book ? Remember, Mrs.
Tunstall, your answer may be the means of con-
demning an innocent man to irrevocable ruin ! "

But she had gone too far to withdraw ; selfish-
ness and cowardice alike forbade it. Yet it was
not without an inward struggle that left her pale
and trembling that she said desperately, " Yes, I
believe he stole it!" and then, " The evidence
shows it — it is not I ! "

" That is for neither you nor me to determine, Mrs.
Tunstall," returned the inspector, rising. " I will
not detain you any longer now ; you will be in-
formed when your sworn testimony will be required
hereafter." And Mrs. Tunstall went out.

The Inspector resumed his seat, and addressed
himself to the prisoner.

" I was willing," he said, "for the sake of your
family and friends, to give you every chance to
which you were entitled. You had every advan-
tage of training and education ; but you have lived
a foolish and useless life, and this is the result of it.
You were in need of money — in immediate and

60 THE END OF AN INTRIGUE.

and pressing need of it ; you had tried every way
you knew to get it ; you found those bank-notes
in your hand this morning, and you were unable to
resist the temptation to take them. From a gen-
tleman you became — what you are now ! "

" Inspector Byrnes," said Percy, firmly but
apathetically, " I did not commit that crime. I
have lived a bad and useless life, and no doubt I
deserve to suffer for it ; but I honestly believe
that no temptation would have induced me to do
such a thing as that. I am obliged to you for sug-
gesting to Mrs. Tunstall that she would reconsider
her accusation ; but it will be no satisfaction to me
to escape in any such way. If I cannot prove my
innocence, I may as well be in gaol as anywhere
else."

" Innocent men are very seldom convicted,"
said the Inspector impassively. " The facts are
against you. No one but you is known to have
been near the muff after Mrs. Tunstall laid it down.
You admit having had it in your hands ; the pocket-
book was found in your pocket. It is true that
the bank-notes were not found ; but the presence
of a confederate would account for that. It is for
you to judge whether or not your plea should be
guilty."

" I am innocent, and that's the end of it," said
Percy. " I don't expect to prove it. The evidence
is all the other way. Somebody must have taken
the purse out of the muff and put it in my pocket ;
as for the notes, I know nothing. You say I may

THE END OF AN INTRIGUE. 61

have had a confederate. If he was near enough to
take the notes from me, he was near enough to rob
the muff ; and if he could do that, it would remain
to be proved that he was my confederate, or that I
knew any thing about him. But all that would be
in my favor is guess-work, and all that's against
me is fact ; so it's a bad look-out ! "

" Undoubtedly it is," assented the Inspector
quietly. " There was only one minute when a
thief could have taken the money and left the
purse in your pocket ; and that was when you were
talking to Mrs. Tunstall, and her back was turned
towards the muff. If any one had been near
enough to put the purse in your pocket, you could
hardly expect a jury to believe that you would not
have noticed him."

Percy maintained a gloomy silence for a mo-
ment ; then his expression suddenly lightened, and
he exclaimed, " Now that I think of it, some one
did touch me on the arm, and when I turned round
he asked me if his cane was standing against the
counter. Perhaps he was the man ! "

" Can you describe him ? " asked the Inspector
indifferently.

Percy shook his head. " He had a dark mus-
tache, I believe ; he might have been under thirty ;
but I hardly looked at him. I doubt if I should
know him again."

The Inspector stroked his moustache. "That
will hardly do," said he. " You have no defence
at all, The best advice I can give you is to make

62 THE END OF AN INTRIGUE

a clean breast of it. Such a defence as that is
worse than nothing."

" Probably you are right ; but I am innocent,
and I will never say the contrary," replied the
prisoner with a sigh. " So far as I am con-
cerned, I don't care much what becomes of me. I
owe money I can't pay, and — there are other
things. I am sorry for my mother and sister ; but
I never was much good to them ; and Judge Ke-
telle will look after them, I hope."

" Is Judge Ketelle a friend of yours ? "

" He was my father's partner, and is the executor
of his will."

" Do you wish to send for him ? There will be the
question of bail to consider,as well as other matters.'

" I suppose that will be the best thing I can do ;
I thank you for suggesting it, Inspector."

u Don't trouble yourself to thank me until you
find out whether there is occasion for it," returned
the chief detective coldly. He touched a bell,
made a sign to the officer who entered, and Percy
was led out.

" That boy never took that money," he said to
himself, when he was alone. " Such fellows as he
don't steal, least of all from the woman they're in
love with. As for her — ! " the Inspector's face grew
very stern, and he brought his hand down heavily
on the table. " She is sacrificing him to pull wool
over her husband's eyes. Either Nolen's sugges-
tion is the true one, or else she invented the story
to get rid of him. It's a bad lookout ; but let's
see if we can't straighten it out ! "

CHAPTER VII.

VAL MARTIN.

WHILE these untoward events were occurring
at the jewelry shop and the police office,
an affair of a different nature was being transacted
at the house of Mrs. Nolen.

A couple of weeks had passed since Valentine
Martin had called on Mrs. Nolen and her daughter,
so that his appearance there that day had some-
thing of the charm of novelty. Mrs. Nolen, how-
ever, was too much upset by her interview with
Percy to be able to extend the visitor a welcome,
and that duty therefore devolved upon Pauline.
The latter, it may be observed, had not been
informed of her brother's pecuniary troubles, and
only knew that her mother was for some reason
greatly distressed. She came down-stairs and
found Valentine in the library.

Judge Ketelle had pronounced Pauline a beauti-
ful girl ; and beauty was her most noticeable ex-
ternal quality ; but it was not her chief claim to
distinction among those who knew her. She was
finely organized and trained in mind as well as
body, and possessed a charm separate from any
physical attraction, It was not that she was a

64 VAL MARTIN.

learned young woman ; she never embarrassed any
one by revealing the presence of more information
than might reasonably be supposed to belong to
her ; but there was in her expression a spirit and
understanding that promised whatever was delight-
ful in mental scenery and tone. Her temperament
was calm and equable because it was deep and
healthy ; it could not be aroused save for adequate
cause, but when aroused it would clothe itself in
power. This wide and vigorous nature would go
on ripening and enriching itself long after ordinary
people dry up and dwindle away. Pauline could
not be measured or assignee her definite and fixed
place in human nature. Her sympathies were
broad, and what she might do or be depended
rather upon the demands made upon her than upon
any limitations in herself.

The young Englishman, after the first conven-
tional things were said, did not appear to be in a
loquacious mood. He replied in monosyllables to
Pauline's observations, but his eyes kept re-
turning to fix themselves upon her with an
expression of sombre thoughtfulness.

" Are you getting tired of America ? " she asked
him, at length.

"I have enjoyed some of it, very much," he
replied. "I wish I had known, years ago, what I*
should find when I came here."

" Would you have come sooner ? "
. " It isn't that ; but I should have left undone
some things that I have done in the past, A fel-

VAL MARTIN: 65

low is generally a fool in the beginning. He gets
sense after a while, but the things the fool did
remain — worse luck ! "

" If they did not, you would never grow wise."

" What is the use of wisdom, if it only makes
a man curse himself for having been not wise ? "

" What do you expect wisdom to bring you ? "

" It ought to bring fortune and happiness ; but
it doesn't."

" No, wise people don't seem to be happy or for-
tunate. But they are wise ; they should expect to
pay for that."

" Very true, Miss Nolen ; we can't eat our cake
and have it, too. But I might have been content
to have eaten my cake, if only it hadn't turned out
to be made of bran and shavings. How would
you like to hear my strange, eventful history ? It
has never been published."

" I would like to hear the real life of a man —
what he thought and felt. But that is the part the
stories leave out."

" Well, the whole truth is a vulgar and sordid
affair ; a good deal of it is. And there's a reason
for it, too. For it is chiefly the analysis of a lie."

" That is not the truth's fault."

" Oh, of course not ; the children of light always
have the best of the argument ! There has been
plenty of muck in my career, but plenty of variety
and adventure, too. Younger sons have that
advantage, at least, over the elders."

" According to our American way of thinking,

66 VAL MARTIN.

it is no advantage to inherit a great estate. It
can only tempt a man to be like his ancestors. I
would choose to be a younger son, myself."

" If it were a matter of choice, perhaps those
most concerned might more often agree with you.
But, if you are born a younger son, your prefer-
ences are not consulted ; and it is not in human
nature to enjoy having even a good thing crammed
down your throat. However, I will say for my
governor — he was Sir Henniker Martin, of Derwent
Hall, near Kiswick, Cumberland — that he did very
fairly by me, as a whole. To begin with, he laid
the foundation of my future discontent by giving
me what is called a liberal education — the Eton and
Oxford business, you know. I distinguished myself
in both places."

" Not for scholarship ? "

" Since you will have it, no ; but for running up
debts. The trouble with me was, I was too good
a fellow. I was the most popular fellow in Eton,
at the time I left it ; I had documentary evidence
of that."

" Documentary ? "

" Yes. When a boy leaves Eton, the fellows who
liked him each give him a book — something swell,
you know, bound in calf, and all that, such as he
will be sure not to spoil by reading it too much.
Well, I got a hundred and eighty of those 'leaving-
books,' as they call 'em."

" A popular library ! "

(< Yes; and all gone now? like the popularity, It

VAL MARTIN. 67

was the same way at Oxford, only bigger bills and
fess innocence. But the governor paid up like a
man, and then got me a clerkship in the Foreign
Office. If he had made me Chief Secretary of
Foreign Affairs, I might have buckled down to
business ; but the clerkship only made bad worse.
Easy hours, light work. Of course I went into
society, head over ears. No end of friends — lots of
popularity ! You never saw such a clever, good-
looking, good-humored chap as I was. I had no
time to waste in my office ; my chiefs began to
growl ; at last father called me up, told me I was
no good, and that he was tired paying for it : gave
me two thousand pounds and an outfit, and packed
me off to New Zealand. It was to be sink or
swim, as luck might have it, but no more life-pre-
servers from the old gentleman ! "

" Were you popular there too ? "

" It's every man for himself there. I went to
Napier — Hawke's Bay — the best sheep-farming
country in the colony. There I ran across a chap
I had known at Eton, Cartwright Brown his name
was ; he had a station (that's what they call a
ranch out there), Matapiro, on the banks of the
Ngararoro River. Well, Cartwright initiated me
into the mysteries of sheep-farming, docking, tail-
ing, and all the rest of it. Very different front
Mayfair and Piccadilly, I can tell you ! "

" Was there no society out there ? "

" Very entertaining society in Napier, and plenty
of it, Oh, yes, there are women everywhere," saicj

68 VAL MARTI A?.

Valentine ; and he was silent for a time, and
seemed to lose himself in revery. "There was a
neighbor of Brown's, Hector Pope, between us and
Napier ; I invested my money in his ranch, and
got to spending a good deal of my time there and
at the club in town. I didn't scrimp myself much ;
I kept a couple of race-horses, and played un-
limited loo at the club ; my sheep and my other
investments had to take care of themselves. You
can imagine what the end would be, without my
telling you."

"Mr. Martin," said Pauline, " you have left out
something ! You would not have gone on in that
way if you had not had some experience that in-
fluenced you." He raised his head and looked at
her ; after a moment she added, " I don't mean
that you should tell it. You lost your money, you
were saying ? "

" All but fifty pounds, and a heap of clothes. I
packed the clothes in my trunks ; forty of the fifty
pounds I handed to Brown to employ as events
might require ; and I was just on the point of
shipping for Australia when a Maori outbreak in
the Taupo district was reported. I came to the
conclusion that I was probably born to be shot ; so
I entered the service as full private in the Armed
Constabulary. You have heard of the Irish Con-
stabulary. This was something of the same sort.

" I enjoyed that campaign more than any thing in
New Zealand. The Maoris are splendid chaps for
a fight. You have your Indian wars here ; but you

VAL MARTIN. 69

should see those fellows ! Well, one day we had
to attack a hill on which the Maoris were posted ;
it was about the shape of a bee-hive, and covered
with trees ; it was called Niho o te Kiore, which
means Rat's Tooth. That tooth gnawed a big hole
in our regiment. The Maoris had posted them-
selves in the trees — up in the branches — and had
made a sort of glacis round the trunks ; it was
capital cover ; they could see our fellows coming,
and pot them at their leisure ; but our fire was
wasted on the trees. If we got too near, they
would slip down from one tree and run to another.
Our men kept dropping and dropping, but there
was no sign that we were producing any effect on
them at all. By and by the men came to the con-
clusion that the fun was too expensive ; and they
began to fall back. Of course the Maoris fol-
lowed us — pretty fast, too. I hated the idea of
getting shot in the back ; I had a few rounds of
cartridges left, and I kept drawing up and popping
at 'em. Brown was near me at that time. It was
bad going underfoot — rocks, bushes, gullies : all of
a sudden I felt something hot just beneath my
collar-bone — a bullet through the left lung. I re-
member feeling pleased that I hadn't been hit in
the back after all ; then I stumbled over a root
and went down. Brown saw me — he was a lieu-
tenant— he hailed three of our men, and they lifted
me and carried me. I was pretty heavy and very
bloody, and I had fainted, and the men thought I
was dead, and began to grumble, for the Maoris

70 VAL MARTIN.

were closing up. They wanted to drop me ; but
Brown pulled out his revolver and vowed he'd
shoot the first man who let go. As that was a cer-
tainty, whereas there was a chance of dodging the
Maoris, they held on, and brought me off. I got
well, and was promoted to a lieutenancy — what for
I never discovered. Before I could be about again
the war was over. I went back to Napier, and
there I heard that Miss Dorrien Taylor, my
mother's sister, was dead, and had left me eight
thousand pounds. I took a part of it and sailed
for Aspinwall, and came up to New York."

" Did you leave the rest of your legacy with Mr.
Brown ? "

" Yes ; and you were quite right. It was on the
voyage out from London. There was a woman
on board. When we reached Napier I married
her secretly. Brown was the only man who
ever knew it. It was not a wise affair, Miss
Nolen. She is living ; she will outlive me. I
knew I should have to tell you ; and I've done,
it!"

CHAPTER VIII.

A REVELATION.

** TF you have a wife why do you not live with

1 her ? " Pauline asked, her calm black eyes
dilating a little as she turned them on Valentine.

" I'm not entirely a free agent in the matter. We
were mistaken in each other — that's the long and
short of it. She captivated me as women will some-
times captivate men when circumstances are favor-
able, and a long sea voyage is a very favorable
circumstance. Then, for her part, she expected
certain advantages from the marriage which it was
not in my power to provide for her. It was a
mutual misunderstanding. After the explanation,
she went her way and left me to go mine. She did
not ask my consent, and I did not enforce my au-
thority. But whatever I have she has a right to
share ; and whatever cannot be shared I have no
right to have."

" I am sorry for you," said Pauline, in a tone
that conveyed more than many assurances.

" There's no help for it," returned Valentine,
with an assumption of indifference, " not even in
the law."

" You mean you cannot be divorced ? "

72 A REVELATION.

" She will not consent to it."

" Why not ? "

•' Because she happens to know that my eldest
brother is in delicate health, and that nothing stands
between me and a fortune except his life. But let
us talk of something else. I am thinking of leaving
town."

" In the midst of the season ? "

" The seasons are pretty much alike to me.
Besides, New York will not be a pleasant residence
for me any longer."

" Has New York changed, or have you ? "

" The change is in my relations with you, Miss
Nolen," said Valentine, leaning forward with his
elbows on his knees. "I can't come here any
more. As long as I could keep up my false pre-
tences— as long as you did not know me to be a
married man — I could take advantage of your ig-
norance. But I have committed hari-kiri, so far
as that is concerned, and it's time I disappeared."

" It is not keeping any false pretences merely to
be silent about your past life."

" Not in the abstract, perhaps ; but in this case
it is."

" Why, Mr. Martin ? "

" May I tell you ? You won't be offended ? "
But without waiting for her answer, and as if fear-
ing that it might be unfavorable, he added, hur-
riedly, " I have no right, being a married man, to
feel towards you as I do. At first I didn't care.
When I first saw you I knew it would be better for

A REVELATION. 73

myself to keep out of your way ; but then I thought
that it could make no difference to you — you would
never know what I felt for you — and that I might
as well endure the pain for the sake of enjoying the
pleasure. But since then my feeling has changed.
You are not the kind of woman who ought to be
the object of the love of a man in my position,
even though you were not aware of it, and though
— as I am able honestly to say — I would rather
have died than attempt any act of deception to-
wards you. I had never known before what love
was ; there is a sort of sacrilege in my hanging
around you, as I have been doing, not daring to
show myself to you as I am. Two weeks ago I
made up my mind never to see you again. But I
couldn't stand going off without letting you know
all about it. So here I am, Miss Nolen, for the
last time. I can look you in the face now, and say
good-by. And it wont hurt you to shake hands
with me."

The changing tones, the passion, the restraint
and simple pathos with which all this was said
touched Pauline's virgin soul more deeply than
it had ever been touched before. She divined all
that was not spoken, and recognized the gallant
spirit of the man who loved her too well to stay
where she was: and whether or not she had hitherto
been conscious of it, her mind now contrasted the
man, fatally encumbered as he was, with the free
man that she had supposed him to be ; and invol-
untarily the question presented itself — Had he been

74 A REVELATION.

free, would she have yielded what he desired ? It
was a perilous question, but she contemplated it
steadily before dismissing it. She had an intellect
capable of discriminating between merely conven-
tional morality and the deeper distinctions between
good and evil. Her respect was as small for the
former as for the latter it was profound.

" If you had not cared for me as you do, you
might have stayed, and we have been friends," she
said finally : " but as it is you are right to go. I
am only a girl — and I feel more than sorry for you ;
I don't know what I might feel if you were always
here. No : I do not love you ! don't think it, Mr.
Martin. It is only that — if I wanted to love you —
I should not send you away ! "

Valentine sat silent ; and whether he were hap-
pier or unhappier than at any previous period of
his life he could not have told. So far as the
significant part of his life was concerned, he felt
that it was over with him ; he would never hence-
forth be the victim of any strong desires, hopes, or
fears. Only one passible event could give him
liberty, the opportunity to live a real life. It was
on the tip of his tongue to ask Pauline whether, in
case this event occurred, she would let him return
to her ; but an accident postponed the question,
and it was never put. The two had been so taken up
with what was passing between them that they had
not noticed the sound of the door-bell or the tread
of a heavy foot upon the hall floor. But at the
moment Valentine was about to speak, perhaps

A REVELATION. 75

with the effect of changing all their lives, the door
was thrown open, and Judge Ketelle abruptly
walked into the room.

He stopped short on seeing the two, and there
was an instant of silent embarrassment ; but the
judge evidently had something on his mind too
serious to be postponed for conventional formal-
ities. " My dear girl," he said to Pauline, " you
will excuse my blundering in here, for it is probably
better that I should have met you before seeing
your mother. You will know better than I how to
carry my message."

" Have you bad news, Judge Ketelle ? "

u Painful — no, no, not the worst ! your brother
is perfectly well ; he has suffered no physical
injury whatever." He paused and turned to Val-
entine. " I think this is Mr. Martin ? " he said.

" Yes ; can I be of any use ? "

" I believe you are a friend of Percy's ? Well, I
dare say you could be of some consolation to him.
He has got into a scrape — a matter in which he is
not in the least to blame, however — that is, at all
events regarding the main point at issue. It is a
misfortune, but it will be set right ; but meanwhile
Mrs. Nolen must be brought to a knowledge of it
with all the tact possible. Indeed, if it were not
one of those things that are certain to get into the
papers, and perhaps to become for a time the
subject of idle gossip, it would be best to say
nothing to her at all."

" I am waiting to hear what the trouble is." said

76 A REVELATION.

Pauline, in a voice entirely calm, though her great
black eyes shone with unusual brilliance. " You
needn't hesitate to tell me any thing."

"It is annoying — that is the most and the least
that can be said of it. Percy is now at Police
Headquarters, my dear. He will be bailed out as
soon as a magistrate can be got to hear the case ;
and I came up here in the interval."

" Oh ! been punching somebody's head, has
he?" said the Englishman, in a tone of relief.
" Where was he last night ? "

" Why, he was here this morning, a few hours
ago," said Pauline. " He had a private talk with
mother. He was not — "

" He was entirely himself," put in the judge.
" This is one of those pieces of bad luck which
may occur to any man. The circumstances were
such as to suggest the hypothesis — though upon
entirely inadequate grounds, in my opinion — that
Percy had been guilty of an infringement of the
law. You will smile when you hear it ; but the
absurdity of the thing does not render it less an-
noying for the moment. He happened to be in a
jewelry store when a lady missed her pocket-book.
It was supposed that it had been stolen — "

" And Percy was accused of taking it ! " said
Pauline, in a low voice.

" In default of any other plausible object of sus-
picion, the detective pitched upon him, and he was
taken to the station."

" That is too preposterous to do him any harm,"

A REVELATION. 77

Martin remarked. " If it had not been so bad, it
would have been a great deal worse."

" When the lady knows who he is, she will refuse
to prosecute him," said Pauline.

" So I should have supposed," returned the
judge. "But it appears that there was already
some acquaintance between them ; and Percy was
in conversation with her at the time the loss was
discovered."

" Who is she ? " demanded Pauline, turning very
pale.

" Her name is Tunstall, I believe — the wife of
one of our coal barons."

" Tunstall— Mrs. Cuthbert Tunstall," repeated
Pauline. " I think I have met her — yes, I have
met her. She is a pretty woman — fashionable.
And she accuses Percy of having robbed her ? "

The judge moved his head silently. Martin, at,
the mention of the lady's name, had changed coun-
tenance slightly.

" She must be his enemy," said Pauline, setting
her grave lips together. " No woman who knew
Percy would have done that except from a wish to
ruin him. She knows he is not guilty."

"Was Mr. Tunstall with his wife?" inquired
Martin of the judge.

" He came in in the midst of the affair. I may as
well give you an account of the affair." And the
judge went on to to tell the story that is already
known to the reader. Both his listeners listened
intently.

78 A REVELATION.

" My opinion is," said Martin, when the narra-
tive was finished, "that the job was put up on
Percy. The woman did not have any money to
lose."

" You forget that her pocket-book was found in
his pocket," said Pauline.

" She may have put it there herself. But at all
events that does not account for the bank-notes.
New York women are not in the habit of traveling
about town with two or three thousand dollars in
bills in their muffs. She would have had a check,
if she had had any thing."

" The same objection occurred to me," said the
judge, "and I spoke of it to Inspector Byrnes.
But it appeared, upon investigation, that Mr. Tun-
stall, knowing his wife had several bills to pay
to-day, including this at the jeweler's, had drawn a
check for five thousand dollars in the morning, and
•given it to her before going down to his business.
She has a private account at the Fifth Avenue
Bank ; she cashed the check there, and received,
among other notes, the thousand dollar and the
five hundred dollar ones specified in the complaint."

" No ; it was not done in that way," said Pauline.
" A woman like her would not dare to run such a
risk. She must have lost the money. She may
have lost it before she entered the shop, or some
one may have stolen it from her there. But 1 am
sure she did not accuse Percy because she thought
he was guilty. There was some other reason, and
when she missed her money she took advantage of

A REVELATION-. 79

that pretext for attacking him. But she forgot he
has a sister ! "

" It may have been her husband who put her up
to it, you know," said Martin to the judge, in an
undertone, and he gave that gentleman a look, the
significance of which he understood. He drew out
his watch.

"The court will sit within an hour," he re-
marked. " I must go back to Police Headquarters
to be on hand with bail. If you care to accom-
pany me, Mr. Martin, I should be glad of your
society. Pauline, I will leave the task of opening
the matter to your mother to you. You will know
how best to manage it ; I should avoid appearing
to attach very serious weight to it, and yet it won't
do to altogether make light of it, either. You may
expect to see Percy in the course of a couple of
hours or so."

" Good-by till then," said Pauline, rising and
giving him her hand. Then she turned to Martin
and added in a lower tone, while the judge walked
towards the door, " I should not feel so safe if it
were not for you."

CHAPTER IX.

BAIL.

* * T T AVE you any knowledge about this Mrs.
11 Tunstall ?" inquired the judge, when he
and Martin were in the street together.

" It's a nasty complication," replied the English-
man. " I fancy Percy has been making a fool of
himself about her. There was no actual harm
done, you understand ; but there was some non-
sense and imprudence, and Tunstall, somehow or
other, got wind of it. Percy has been in a state of
mind lately, but I didn't expect the woman would
behave in this way. I suppose she had the alter-
native of turning against her husband or against
Percy, and fmdingthat the strongest battalions were
on her husband's side, she very prudently and with
much propriety sided with him. But what is
Percy's defence ? "

" He denies the charge," the judge answered ;
" but he has no theory as to how the thing hap-
pened."

" What is the theory of the prosecution as to the
disappearance of the bank-notes ? "

" They assume that Percy must have passed
them to a confederate."

BAIL. 1

" Was any body resembling a confederate seen
hanging about ? "

" The shop was full of people coming and going ;
but no one in particular was noticed."

" It's a lame theory," remarked Martin, after a
little consideration. " If Percy had passed a con-
federate the money, he would have passed him the
purse too. It is more likely that whoever did the
stealing kept the notes, which could not be identi-
fied, and got rid of the purse, which could be iden-
tified, by dropping it into Percy's pocket as he
passed by."

" I think that view is a sound one," said the
judge ; " but the thief has got off, and the pros-
pect of apprehending him is very small. Percy
may not be convicted : I hardly think he could be :
but there is, nevertheless, evidence enough against
him to produce a disagreeable effect upon persons
not acquainted with him. And, of course, when it
is known that Mrs. Tunstall was acquainted with
him, and yet did not hesitate to accuse him, his
position — even after he has been legally exonerated
— will be a painful and embarrassing one. I am
inclined to think that the best thing for him will be
to leave New York and remain away for some
years. Meantime the affair will be forgotten, and
possibly the true culprit may be discovered."

" I agree with you," said Martin, thoughifully.
" Percy can be of no use here, no matter how the
affair turns out. I have a mind to propose to him
to go with me."

82 BAIL.

" To go with you ! " repeated the judge, with an
involuntary accent of surprise. " I infer, then,
that you contemplate leaving New York ? "

" I shall leave New York very shortly. My idea
is to go to Australia by way of San Francisco. In
Australia Percy would have a fair field to start out
and do something. I might be able to give him
some help."

" His family should feel much indebted to you,"
observed the judge, cordially.

" There's no obligation," returned Martin. "lam
fond of Percy — not on his own account only. If I
can be of any good to him, I shall consider myself
lucky."

The two gentlemen now entered a horse-car, and
the conversation ceased. Martin lapsed into a
gloomy revery ; but the judge's spirits seemed,
for some reason, to have visibly improved. He
had received a severe shock at the moment when he
entered the room and found Pauline and Martin
together. The latter's announcement of his in-
tended departure brought an immense relief. He
had already begun to like the young Englishman,but
he now began to regard him with sincere affection.

They left the car at Bleecker Street and pro-
ceeded to Police Headquarters. There was still
a quarter of an hour before the formality of getting
bail could be arranged. They were admitted
to the inspector's room, and at the judge's request
he courteously gave permission to them to have an
interview with the prisoner.

BAIL. 83

" How is he standing it, Inspector?" asked
Martin.

" He doesn't find it amusing, I suppose ; but he
is as comfortable as could be expected," replied
that impenetrable officer.

" There will be no difficulty about getting bail,
will there ? "

" I presume there will be nothing unusual. But
the case is not a simple one. There are some
awkward features to it."

" How is that ? " demanded the judge.

" Well, as regards motive, for one thing."

" It would need a strong motive to give weight
to such an accusation," Martin remarked.

" That may be true for those who have made up
their minds beforehand not to believe him guilty.
But the jury will not be composed of such persons."

" What is the evidence you speak of ? " asked
Martin.

" He has been short of money for some time
past," said the Inspector. " There is reason to
think that he borrowed a sum of money several
weeks ago. But within the last two days his needs
became very pressing. He incurred a debt of
nearly a thousand dollars at play last night. The
money has to be repaid this evening, under pain of
social exposure. He was unable to borrow again,
and it made his situation very trying. When a man
in that condition suddenly, finds two or three
thousand dollars in his hands, and remembers that
they belong to a woman whom he has every reason

84 BAIL.

to think will not betray him — well, when a skillful
lawyer tells that story to a jury, it would not be sur-
prising if it makes some impression on them."

" You don't take any stock in such rubbish your-
self, Inspector," observed Martin, with a laugh.

The Inspector lifted his eyebrows. " I should be
very apt to take the same view of the case that the
judge and jury do — after I know what it is," he re-
turned, quietly ; and that was all that could be got
out of him.

They now descended to the basement and were
conducted to the imprisoned Percy. He was much
more composed than they had expected to find him.
In fact, he had experienced such intense and varied
emotion during the last few hours that no matter for
discomposure was left in him. Martin's presence
seemed to gratify him. He asked the judge about
his mother and sister, and received his somewhat
rose-colored account of their condition with appa-
rent indifference.

" But you will be able to judge of them for your-
self at dinner," the judge added, kindly.

*' You mean when I am out on bail ? "

" Certainly ; that will be in a couple of hours
from now."

" Are you going to furnish bail, Judge Ketelle ? "

" Undoubtedly I am. Who has a better claim to
stand by your father's son ? "

Percy was silent a moment. " Have you ever be-
lieved that I might possibly have committed this
crime ? " he asked at length.

BAIL. 85

" No such idea has ever entered my head. I am
surprised you should ask me such a question," said
the judge, with an emphasis that indicated that he
was a little hurt by the insinuation.

Percy took a long breath, and as he looked up
his face betrayed signs of a feeling that he had not
hitherto betrayed. " You are a good man," he said
in a husky voice. " I wish I had had the sense to
trust you long ago. I was afraid you would pitch
into me, and the fact that I deserved it made it all
the more difficult to face it. I don't know whether
you have heard that I borrowed a thousand dollars
from my mother two months ago. She wanted to
consult you, but I wouldn't let her. This morning
I went to her again ; but she didn't have anything,
and there was nothing for it but to apply to you. I
was on my way to your office when this thing oc-
curred. If I had not happened to see her — He
broke off and altered his phrase — " if things had
not taken the turn they did I should long since have
received your blowing-up and the money, paid my
debt, and — but it turned out otherwise."

" Who is the man to whom you lost the money ?"
inquired Martin.

" His name is Henry Cotton," answered Percy.
" You know him."

" To be sure ; and he is a friend of Tunstall's," re-
turned Martin, thoughtfully. " Upon my word, the
luck is against you. Will you answer me one ques-
tion ? "

" If I can."

86 BAIL.

" You can, and we are among friends. Are you
cured of a certain lady?"

Percy laughed, and that laugh of bitter resent-
ment and humiliation was a more convincing an-
swer than any words could have framed. It put all
doubts to rest.

" Ah ! " ejaculated Martin, with an expression of
satisfaction, "then it will be all right ! "

At that moment an officer came with the informa-
tion that the court was ready to decide the question
of bail, and the whole party proceeded to the court
room. The transactions there were brief and not
particularly complicated. Mrs. Tunstall's lawyers
professed to consider the case an especially grave
one, and requested that bail be fixed at the full
amount permitted by law. Counsel on the other
side maintained that the charge against Mr. Nolen
was a preposterous one, and demanded that he be
allowed to go on his own recognizance. The Court,
after due deliberation, declared that the facts against
the prisoner, though not conclusive, were sufficient
to warrant a prima facie evidence of guilt, and re-
quired bail to be furnished to the amount of fifteen
hundred dollars. Judge Ketelle immediately qual-
ified for that sum, the bonds were signed, and the
prisoner left the court with his friends.

"And now," said the judge cheerfully, "the
worst is over. Let us get into a hack, Percy, and
drive up to the house. Your mother and sister will
be anxious to see you."

" I am much obliged to you, judge, for all you

BAIL. 87

have done for me," replied the young man ; I wish
I had known you sooner and better. But this
affair is not over yet, and it may end differently
from what we hope. Until the trial, at all events,
I must remain a suspected man, and I can't go to
my mother's house with that suspicion hanging
over me. When I have been publicly acknowl-
edged to be an honest man, I will go to my
mother and sister, but not till then."

" My dear boy," said the judge kindly, " you
are a little off your balance after all this trouble,
and you naturally take a morbid view. I assure
you you have no need to feel sore about the mat-
ter. I need not tell you that you will find nothing
but love and confidence awaiting you at home ;
and that there can be no other place in the world
where you can hope to find them to any thing
like the same degree. On the other hand, your
mother and Pauline couid not fail to feel hurt if
you did not appear."

" That is all very true, judge," Percy answered,
" but there's something else that you haven't con-
sidered, and which will be certain to come out, now
that the thing is going into the newspapers."

" What is that ? "

" My relations with Mrs Tunstall. My mother
will hear of that, and that is a thing I can't deny.
I love my mother, and I kuow she loves me ; but
she could never make any allowance on such a
subject. It would be a useless pain to both of us
to attempt to discuss it, and I am not going to put

88 BAIL.

myself in the way of it. No, I can't agree with you,
judge," he added, as the judge seemed about to
make a rejoinder ; " I have been through as much
as I can stand for the present, and any thing more
would break me down Say to mother that I will
see her by and by, but not now."

The judge saw that the young man was obsti-
nate, and felt that his sensitiveness was, under the
circumstances, not discreditable. He further re-
flected that, in the course of a day or two. he would
probably be more disposed to modify his resolu-
tion. Accordingly, he relinquished for the present
the attempt to persuade him, and having ascer-
tained that he would take up his quarters with
Martin pending further movements, he bade him
farewell, little thinking how long a time would
elapse before they met again.

Percy and Valentine betook themselves to the
latter's rooms at once, and, having ensconced them-
selves there, Martin poured out some whiskey, of-
fered his friend a cigar, and after they had smoked
for a while, said,

" How much do you owe here, outside of your
gambling debt ? "

" Not more than three hundred dollars."

" Thirteen hundred dollars debts, and your bail
fifteen hundred. Two thousand eight hundred
altogether. I have over seven thousand dollars.
What do you say to my settling all your liabilities
to-morrow, and taking you with me to Australia ? "

CHAPTER X.

PAULINE.

THE question staggered Percy for a moment.
" I didn't know you were going to Australia,"
he said.

" To Australia, or Mexico, or South America, or
the North Pole ; it don't make much difference
where. But I am going, and I'm going to-morrow.
And I want you to come with me, Percy."

" And jump my bail ? "

"And jump your bail."

" I can't do that. Judge Ketelle is liable."

" Haven't I told you that I will settle all your
liabilities ? Half an hour before we leave New
York, I will post a check to him for the amount.
Your friend Henry Cotton will receive his dues
this evening ; every thing shall be paid. And we
will be off together and make a fortune, if you
like."

" If I went off in that way," said Percy, after a
little thought, " everybody would come to the con-
clusion that I was guilty and feared conviction."

" You are not guilty, are you ? "

" No."

9° PA UL1NE.

" But you do fear conviction, and all the more if
you're not guilty than if you are. That stands to
reason."

" Of course I hope not to be convicted, but—

" Exactly ; and now do you know what Ithink ?
I think there is a strong probability — a deuced
strong one— that you will be convicted. You
can see for yourself that your defence doesn't
amount to a row of pins. And if once you get into
gaol, my boy, you are done for. Innocent or guilty
makes no difference ; you will have a stigma on
you that all the years of your life will never oblit-
erate. If I were in your place, I wouldn't risk it.
You have an opportunity to escape now, and you
had better take advantage of it."

" But if I escape judgment will go against me
by default, and I shall have the stigma just the
same."

"Listen. to reason, Percy. To have the stigma
of being adjudged guilty is bad enough ; but what
is it compared to being adjudged guilty and sent
to gaol into the bargain ? If you were actually
guilty, or if I thought you were, the situation would
be different ; but you are innocent, though you
can't prove it ; and, being innocent, why should
you spend two or three years in Sing Sing just to
gratify the spite of Cuthbert Tunstall and his wife ?
It would be more sensible to take that razor and
cut your throat. You are innocent, and you have
a perfect right to avoid being imprisoned if you
can. No one will suffer by it, and there is no tell-

PA UL2NE. 91

ing how much you may gain. The robbery of
which you are accused was committed by some-
body, and probably by a professional thief. Pro-
fessional thieves — pickpockets especially — are al-
ways practicing their trade ; and sooner or later
they are certain to get caught. When the thief
who stole Mrs. Tunstall's money is caught it is
more than likely that the truth about the robbery
may come out ; you will be vindicated, and then
you may come home with flying colors. But if
your vindication came after you had served your
time in gaol it wouldn't do you much good — not
to mention the positive harm that gaol life might
have done you in the meanwhile ; people would
never forget that you had worn the stripes, though
they might easily forget whether or not you had
deserved to wear them. But come back with a
fortune — come back after having made a respect-
able name for yourself in another part of the world
— or after having simply lived in freedom, instead
of in bondage and in the society of thieves — and,
trust me, you will never regret it ! This is not a
matter to be treated on sentimental grounds ; it is
a serious thing — quite as serious as a question of
life and death to you. You are innocent, and you
have a right to your freedom ; that's the case in a
nutshell. Don't throw away your whole career for
a figure of speech ! "

This was a powerful appeal, and it lost nothing
by Martin's delivery. It produced an evident
impression on Percy.

92 PAULINE.

" If I were certain that I should be convicted,"
he muttered, half to himself.

" You may fairly take that for granted," said
Martin. " When there has been a crime, there
must be provided a criminal ; that is the legal
maxim, and in default of a better you will have to
bear the brunt."

" It is not myself, only, that is to be considered,
Val.; my mother and sister are quite as impor-
tant."

" I don't deny it ; it's a part of my argument.
You said this afternoon that you did not intend to
see them again until after you were vindicated. Did
you mean what you said ? "

" Certainty I did."

" I think you were right in your decision, for
more reasons than one. But, if you remain in
New York, you will not be able to keep your reso-
lution. If you don't go to them, they will come to
you. But if you are a thousand or two thousand
miles away, you will have no such embarrassment.
And that isn't all, my boy. If you were put in
gaol it would be a bad thing for you, but it would
simply kill your mother outright, and ruin your
sister's prospects as effectually as your own.
Whereas, if you go off with me, you and I can
keep up a correspondence with them, and explain
exactly how the case stands. They can watch your
career step by step, and the knowledge that they are
doing so will give you the strongest stimulus to
succeed that you could have. Meanwhile, they will

\

PA ULINE. 93

be watching the progress of affairs here, and as
soon as any thing turns up in your favor they can
let you know, and you can act accordingly. If
there were no other reason for jumping your bail,
consideration for your mother and sister would be
enough."

. This suggestion practically decided Percy. " I
believe you are right," said he; "but I don't see
what right I have to let you pay all my liabilities.
You and I have been friends, Val., but I have
never done any thing for you, and I have no pros-
pect of repaying you for what you propose to do
for me."

" You will owe me less than you suppose," Val-
entine replied. "In the first place, my money is
no use to me ; if I didn't spend it for you, it would
go into the pockets of the tradesmen and bummers
of New York. In the second place, I want your
company ; we suit each other, and that is not a
thing that happens every day. But the real truth
is — I have never spoken to you about it, although
you may have guessed something for aught I
know — the truth is that I am a good deal influ-
enced in what I am doing by the fact that you are
Pauline Nolen's brother."

" Ah ! You care for her, then ? "

" Yes, I care for her. She is the dearest friend
I have in the world, and for her sake I would do
most things. But she can never be more than my
friend, and I can do very little."

" If you want to marry her, I am sure she — "

94 PA U LINE.

Valentine interrupted him with a gesture. " It
can never come to a question of that, said he ; "I
am married already."

" You are a married man ! Does Pauline know
it?"

" I told her this morning. It's a long story, and
you shall hear it another time if you want to. I
married in haste, and I am likely to have plenty of
leisure to repent. Well, you can imagine that
nothing could please me so much as serving her in
any way I can ; and I know that no better way is
open to me than to give a helping hand to you.
So, if you agree to join me, you will be doing me
the best kindness that one man can do another — it
is not to be measured in time, or money, or any
thing else. My prospects, as you may suppose,
are not especially cheerful at the best ; but what-
ever good comes to me will be from the thought
that I am of some good to Pauline's brother. I
can't live with her, or see her any longer ; but I
can live with you, and that's the next best thing,
not to mention that you are tolerably good company
on your own account." He ended with a laugh.

" It's very kind of you to put in that .way, old
fellow," said Percy, in a somewhat unsteady tone.
" Well, I'll go with you. I have been a drug in
the market so far, and I won't make any promises ;
but I don't think you'll find me a voluntary drag
on you, at all events. Have you any definite
plans ? "

" I have a thousand ; we have only to pick and

PA ULINE. 95

choose," Valentine replied. " My intention this
morning was to go direct to Australia by way of
San Francisco, but I think I shall change that, for
one reason, because I mentioned it to Judge Ketelle,
and, in any case, it will be well to get outside the
country as soon as possible. We might go to
Mexico by steamer, to begin with. I have some
good letters to people there, so that we shan't be
strangers. If any thing good turns up we can stay
there ; if not we can go to Colon and Panama,
and get aboard some vessel bound westward. You
may find an opportunity to make a practical
acquaintance with mining before you are done."

It was then about four o'clock in the afternoon.
On consulting a newspaper they learned that one
of the United States and Brazil Mail Steamship
Company's vessels sailed on the following day,
Wednesday, at two o'clock. This vessel stopped
at St. Thomas, where, if they saw fit, they might
disembark and take passage to Havana, and thence
to Vera Cruz and Mexico, thus throwing possible
pursuers off the scent. This seemed to be the best
route open to them ; and, as there was no time to
be lost, Martin left at once for Broad Street to
secure their passage. Percy was left alone to
meditate on his position.

Martin's rooms were in a bachelor apartment
house, not far from the junction of Fifth Avenue
and Broadway. The roar of the streets was audible
as a continuous sound ; and to Percy, sitting in an
easy-chair before the fire, and wearied with* the

96 PA ULINE.

emotions an.d vicissitudes of the day, it had the so-
porific influence of the wind among pines, or the noise
of surf on a shore. The sun had set, and the room
became dusky. Percy's eyes closed, and he was
just on the point of falling asleep.

The sharp sound of the electric bell aroused him.
Had Martin returned already ? He must have left
his pass-key, to be obliged to ring. Still partly
asleep, Percy arose and went to the door and opened
it. A lady stood on the threshold, and as the door
swung back she stepped quickly inside.

Percy recoiled a pace or two with a disagreeable
sensation. He thought that the visitor was Mrs.
Tunstall. But the next moment she spoke, and the
voice was that of his sister. " I am so glad you are
here! " she said breathlessly. " I feared I should
miss you."

" Are you alone ? How did you come here ? "
returned he. He closed the door and led her into
the sitting-room.

" Judge Ketelle told us that you were staying
with Mr. Martin. Is he — " she glanced about the
room and hesitated.

" He has gone out," said Percy. " Did you
come to see him ? "

" I came to see you, Percy. I can understand
why you kept away from us, but I wanted to tell
you that I am your sister. I love you and believe
in you, and whatever happens you can trust me.
Let me do something for you ! " She spoke with
great emotion, though in a controlled voice, and he

PA ULINE. 97

could perceive that a tremor passed through her
now and then as she stood before him.

A feeling of strong brotherly tenderness and
gratitude came over the young man ; he put his
arms round Pauline and kissed her. "I couldn't
do that if I wasn't innocent, my dear," he said.

" Of course I know you are innocent ! " she
exclaimed indignantly. " What made that woman
accuse you ? She knows it is false. Why is she
your enemy ? "

Percy hesitated. " Appearances were against
me," he muttered.

" What are appearances to any one who knows
you ? " broke out Pauline impatiently. " She must
have hated you. Why did she hate you ? Women
do not hate unless . . . has she ever loved you,
Percy ? " she demanded, with a changed voice.

"She — why, she's a married woman!" he re-
turned, uneasily.

There was a pause. " Yes, I understand now ! "
continued the girl, with a sad laugh. " Oh, my
poor brother ! " She caught her breath and sobbed
once or twice. " I am so sorry it is that," she said
tremulously.

" I have been a fool, but nothing worse than that,
said the young man. " There is no actual sin on
my conscience, Pauline. It is no thanks to me,
but it is the truth. It is all over now, and I thank
Heaven it is over ! "

" I thank heaven too, Percy ; for, whatever you
had done, I should support you and defend you ;

98 PA ULINE.

and if you were wicked I should be wicked too. I
am your sister" — it seemed to give her satisfaction
to repeat this — " we are the same flesh and blood ;
if we do not stand by each other, who else will ?
But what shall you do, Percy ? You can not tell
that in court."

He took a quick resolution. " I shall never
appear in court," he said.

" Has the case been put aside ? " she exclaimed
eagerly.

" No ; I am going away. I am going with Mar-
tin. He has gone to take our passages to the West
Indies by to-morrow's steamer."

" Well, perhaps it is best," she returned, with a
composure that surprised him. " Your bail has to
be paid, has it not ? I will do that — I have money."

" Martin has done it already. He will pay every
thing. I shall leave no debts, thanks to him. I
thank you just the same, my darling sister."

" He is a good friend — he is a good man," she
said thoughtfully. " I can afford to let him do it,
for I know he does it willingly. So you are going
away together ! " She gave a long sigh. " Well, I
will take care of mother."

" Poor mother ! " said Percy, a great wave of
grief and remorse coming over him. " Tell her
the best you can of me, Pauline."

" I can manage her — don't fear ! It will come
right at last, I know. I will go now, brother."
She threw her arms around him. " Be good," she
said ; " do the best you can. Oh, Percy, Percy ! "

PA ULINE. 99

she suddenly cried out, with a heart-breaking sob,
pressing him to her with passionate energy. " I
must go now, or never/' she said, controlling her-
self by an immense effort ; and the next moment
he was alone. But the ardor of her last embrace
had something more than sisterly ; it conveyed a
message to one who was absent.

CHAPTER XI,

AT SEA.

MARTIN came back about seven o'clock. He
had secured a stateroom with two good
berths ; he had paid Percy's bills at the trades-
men's and at his lodging-house, and from the
latter place he had brought the trunk containing
the young man's worldly possessions, which were
fortunately not numerous, and consisted chiefly of
suits of clothes and underwear. They went to a
quiet restaurant and had dinner, and then returned
to Martin's, and spent the rest of the evening in
packing up his effects.

Percy said nothing to his friend about Pauline's
unexpected and hurried visit that evening, not on
account of any pre-determined purpose, but be-
cause the interview had affected him too deeply
to make it an easy topic of conversation ; because,
knowing Martin's feeling towards her, he was un-
certain whether it would be expedient to mention
her at present ; and, further, because he doubted
whether Martin would approve of his course in
admitting Pauline to a knowledge of their plans.
In revealing. the secret to her, Percy had acted on

AT SEA. 101

the spur of the moment ; but he felt that the im-
pulse was a wise one, and subsequent reflection
had not caused him to regret it.

They went to bed at midnight thoroughly tired
out ; but were up again by eight in the morning,
and had some coffee and eggs brought to them by
the janitor.

" The chances are," observed Martin, as he
cracked his egg in the English style, and put some
salt in it, "that the authorities, who are pretty wide
awake in this country, may have conceived the
idea that you contemplate giving them the slip.
When I went out yesterday afternoon, I noticed a
man smoking a pipe on the opposite corner of the
street ; and when I returned in the evening I
passed the same man under the gas-lamp just
below. That may have been a coincidence ; but
then it may have been—

" A detective ? " said Percy.

" Something of that sort. At all events, it is
well to be on the safe side. Now what I propose
is this. We are of the same height and build, and
look not unlike. If we were dressed alike, the
chief point of distinction between us, to one who
did not know us well, would be the fact that you
wear a moustache and I whiskers. What do you
say to a bit of a disguise ? You will find a razor
in the dressing-case ; shave off your moustache
and then put on these." As he spoke, he pro-
duced from his pocket a small pair of false whis-
kers. " All you have to do is to heat this inside

102 AT SEA.

surface at the gas-jet, and they will cling to you
as if they had grown. Then put on my cap and
overcoat, and our detective will be a clever fellow
if he recognizes you."

" But what will you do ? "

" I shall remain what I am. You will start an
hour before I do ; and, by the way, you had better
turn up town when you leave here, so as to give
the impression that you are bound anywhere
rather than to the United States and Brazil Steam-
ship Company's wharf. Afterwards you can cross
over to Sixth Avenue and take the elevated down.
I will meet you on board the steamer ; the trunks
will go by express in my name."

" All right," said Percy, with a sigh ; for he was
a good-looking fellow, and his moustache was not
wholly indifferent to him. " And when we are safe
at sea, we can resume our natural selves."

" As soon as you like," returned Martin,
" though perhaps it would do no harm if we ex-
changed names for a while longer. There is no
telling what may happen, or where some spy may
turn up who might find it for his interest or amuse-
ment to gossip about us in the wrong quarter."

Breakfast being over, nothing remained but to
label the trunks, which Martin did by writing his
name and that of the steamer on tags, and attach-
ing them to the handles ; an expressman was then
called, and the trunks were removed. Percy sac-
rificed his moustache and affixed the whiskers ; and
finally, attired in his friend's outer garments, left

AT SEA. 103

the house without interference, and strolled up to
the Thirty-third Street elevated station. From
there it was a twenty minutes' ride to his destina-
tion ; and then all he had to do was to go on
board and wait for Martin. The latter arrived in
due course ; and at two o'clock the steamer
moved out into the river and pointed her nose
toward the Narrows, much to the relief of two at
least of her passengers. And yet both of them
were leaving behind what was dearer than any
thing they could expect to encounter. But those
thoughts lay deep ; the more trifling ones only
appeared on the surface.

There were but few other passengers on the
steamer, and those not being people whose society
was especially attractive, Percy and Valentine passed
the greater part of the time in each other's company.
Valentine had an almost inexhaustible fund of
anecdotes concerning his past life and adventures
on hand, and many hours were spent in narrating
those experiences to Percy, until the American had
become almost as conversant with the Englishman's
past career as if it had been his own. The episode
of his marriage interested him more than any thing
else.

Valentine had met the girl upon the outward-
bound steamer from England to New Zealand. He
had previously known nothing of her nor heard
her name ; but it afterwards transpired that she
was well acquainted with his family history, a
cousin of hers, with whom she corresponded, hav-

104 AT SEA.

ing been engaged as companion to Lady Martin
during several years. She had thus learned a fact
that was supposed to be known by few or none
outside the family circle — that Valentine's elder
brother, who inherited the estate, was subject to a
species of- fits, which, though not always incom-
patible with long life, might bring his career to a
close at any moment. In such an event, the prop-
erty would descend to Valentine. Meanwhile,
Valentine's London extravagances were not sus-
pected by the girl, and she believed him to be pos-
sessed of a comfortable fortune of something like
twenty thousand pounds — a sum not much in
excess, to be sure, of what he would have had, had
he invested his money to advantage and lived
within his income.

She was a handsome girl, of about the same age
as Valentine, and with a manner and temperament
exceedingly alluring to a young fellow whose blood
flows warmly in his veins, and who finds the inter-
minable leisure of a voyage to the antipodes hang
very heavy on his hands. She permitted him to
acquire the conviction that he was any thing but in-
different to her; in fact, to use the colloquial phrase,
she set her cap at him ; and Valentine, who spoke
of himself without reserve as a poor man, and who
was not aware that she disbelieved all his assertions
on that head, and interpreted them as politic
attempts to conceal his real wealth and prospects
— Valentine was completely fascinated by the charm
of her person and conversation, and so far com-

AT SEA. 105

mitted himself with her, that by the time the voy-
age was ended he felt that he could not do less
than offer her marriage.

She consented, and the ceremony was performed
on their reaching New Zealand. But she stipulated
that the marriage was to remain for the time being
a secret ; for she had come on to visit some relatives
of hers and was unwilling, for reasons satisfactory to
herself, that they should know any thing of the hope
she privately entertained of becoming Lady Martin.
Valentine, on his side, offered no objection to this ar-
rangement; he had his place to make in the colony,
and the necessity of providing a suitable home for
his wife at the outset would have seriously hampered
him. She went to her relatives in Napier, and he,
as has been already related, cast in his lot with his
friend Brown, and visited her in town whenever
opportunity served.

Now that she was his wife, however, she no
longer felt any necessity of concealing from him
her real belief as to the extent of his means ; she
proceeded from veiled intimations to plain speech,
and he became aware for the first time that she
had married him, not for himself, but for some-
thing that he did not possess. Her plain speech led
to explanations on his part equally plain, and thus
they speedily arrived at a perfectly clear under-
standing of their mutual attitude. The conse-
quence was a bitter quarrel and recriminations.
The woman appeared in her true colors, which
were not engaging ; she called him a variety of

lo6 AT SEA.

hard names, and if he refrained from retorting in
kind it was not because there was any lack of
suitable expressions waiting behind his lips. But
they were still husband and wife, and the bond
between them could not be severed. As their
marriage was a secret, however, there was no dif-
ficulty about a separation ; and Valentine agreed
to whatever pecuniary conditions she chose to dic-
tate. In case of his brother's death she would
come in for her share of the inheritance ; but here
he stipulated that she should receive the money
only on condition that she forbore to assume the
title, or allow her relation to him to be known.
She at first demurred to this ; but on his offering
to hand over every thing except the real estate and
lands — an offer extremely advantageous to her
from a pecuniary point of view — she finally con-
sented, probably reflecting that it would be diffi-
cult or impossible to make such a contract legally
binding, and that when the time came — if it ever
should come— she would be able to repudiate it
with impunity.

This affair produced a bad effect on Valentine ;
he became reckless, and indifferent to his business
interests, and ill-fortune attended him. He wel-
comed the Maori revolt as an opportunity of rid-
ding himself of his troubles by stopping a bullet ; but
though he stopped the bullet, the bullet failed to
stop him, and the legacy that he received changed
considerably the complexion of affairs. He placed
half the sum in the bank at Napier for the benefit

AT SEA. 107

of his wife, and sailed for San Francisco with the
rest. He had had no settled plan in leaving New
Zealand, except to appease his restless desire for
change and excitement. The future could hold
nothing good for him, because, however good in
itself it might be, it would be denied by the chronic
and inevitable necessity of sharing it with that wife
of his — for what is the greatest blessing, stimulus,
and joy, to a man happily married, is the drear-
iest of miseries to the man mismated.

One misfortune, however, he did not look for ;
one danger he did not fear ; one emotion of all
others he was confident he could not feel. And
yet this emotion, this danger, this misfortune were
precisely those to which he was destined to fall a
victim. He could not foresee the meeting with Pau-
line Nolen, nor the effect that she would produce on
him. Up to that time his unhappiness had been
chiefly negative — the ordinary disappointment and
disillusion ; now he had to deal with a positive
pain — the impossibility of being united to the only
woman he had ever loved. It was like tantaliz-
ing a prisoner-for-life with scenes of freedom and
felicity.

" I am talking a lot about myself," he remarked
one day to Percy, as they were sitting smoking to-
gether on the deck, " but it isn't entirely egotism,
either. I have a motive in it, connected with
you."

" What have I to do with it ? "

" You and Brown are about the only friends I

Io8 AT SEA.

have in the world. I want you to know what my
life has been, and what my situation is, in order
that you may be able to act intelligently in case
any thing happens to me."

"Come, Val, you're not contemplating a prema-
ture end, are you ? "

" Oh, my health is good, and I am in good shape
generally — never better. I am speaking of acci-
dents, which are liable to happen to the best regu-
lated gentlemen. In case of my sudden taking off
occurring while I am in your company, I want you
to be competent to act as my agent, representative,
or executor ; I want to give you my unrestricted
power of attorney, in short. And to that end," he
added, taking a wallet from his pocket, " I have
written out a paper which empowers you to use the
requisite authority, and also indicates what I would
like to have done in case certain other things hap-
pen. Here's the document ; put it in your pocket,
and don't bother yourself to look at it unless cir-
cumstances should make it necessary.''

" If I had any thing to leave or to manage,"
said Percy, taking the paper which Valentine
handed him, " I would retaliate by appointing you
my sole legatee and executor ; but all I possess are
my clothes and the receipted bills you paid for me.
However, if I die, you must say to those whom it
may concern that I maintained to the last that I
did not steal Mrs. Tunstall's money. Send my
love to my mother and Pauline, and, if I die on
shore, get me buried if possible. I can't be seri-

AT SEA. 109

ous about it," he went on, with a laugh, "and yet
I have had a presentiment ever since we started,
that I shall never see the end of this voyage. Of
course, presentiments are all nonsense, and I don't
in the least believe in this one ; but it is there all
the same. So, if it comes out true, I shall say, * I
told you so ! ' At least, you will know I would
have said it if I could ! "

" I'll remember," replied Valentine. " As for
presentiments, I believe they do come out true,
though my theory of existence assures me they
must be coincidences. I have no presentiment re-
garding myself, only a business-like solicitude
that, when I am gone, my dregs shall not occasion
any avoidable inconvenience.

Just then the second officer sauntered up and
nodded to windward. " Looks pretty nasty up
there," said he. u Shouldn't wonder if we had a
blow before night."

CHAPTER XII.

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

MARTIN and Percy looked in the direction in-
dicated by the officer. It was then about
five o'clock in the afternoon, the sky clear over-
head, the sea calm, the sun sinking red toward the
west, over Cuba and Hayti, which were below the
horizon, some hundreds of miles away. The tem-
perature during the last few days had been grow-
ing warmer and warmer, and they were now near
the twentieth parallel of north latitude, and about
on the sixty-sixth meridian west from Greenwich.
Since passing between Hatteras and the Bermudas
they had had fair weather, with light airs from the
south and east. But to-day there had been no
breeze whatever, and the heat had been oppressive.
The surface of the sea looked oily, and lay quite
flat, without any perceptible heave or swell. Masses
of drift-weed were passed occasionally, strung out
in long lengths, as if drawn by invisible currents.
Sometimes a cocoanut or an orange would float
past, silent heralds of the islands near at hand.
The course the steamer was steering was taking
her toward the group of little islands between the

THE SHADOW'OF DEATH. HI

greater and lesser Antilles, of which St. Thomas is
one. It was there that they were to make their
first landing.

The officer had pointed toward the southwest,
or a few points off the starboard bow. Percy could
see nothing remarkable there ; but Valentine, who
was familiar with the sea, at once fixed his eyes
upon a small dark cloud, low down on the water,
the peculiarity of which was that it changed its
shape with great rapidity, and without any appar-
ent cause. One moment it looked like a hand,
with the fingers extended ; then it was like a hat,
the crown of which grew larger and larger until it
presented the aspect of a pointed foolscap. Then
the cap suddenly inverted itself, and stood on its
apex ; then the foolscap divided down the centre,
and took the form of a huge bird with wings point-
ing upwards.

" That is rather odd," muttered Valentine, intent-
ly watching the protean little cloud. "I have seen
a hurricane begin that way. I hope it will give us
a wide berth. This is a bad place to be caught
by a tornado, with that string of islands right ahead
of us."

" It must be a couple of hundred miles to the
nearest of them," said Percy. " We are safe
enough. This steamer can stand any thing."

" There comes the captain," observed Valentine,
without noticing Percy's remark.

In fact, the captain emerged from his cabin,
and mounted the bridge ; he cast a glance at the

112 THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

cloud and then gave some orders in a low tone.
They were followed by an immediate activity on
the part of the watch on deck. The sailors moved
rapidly about, and seemed to be occupied in stow-
ing under hatches, or otherwise making fast, vari-
ous barrels, cases, and other loose objects that had
hitherto been kept on deck. Meanwhile, the cap-
tain had got out a telescope, and was contemplating
the cloud through it with great earnestness. Pres-
ently he passed the glass to the officer who stood
by him on the bridge, and who also took a careful
observation ; then they conversed together in an
undertone, and occasionally issued a new order to
the crew. There were no sails set on the
steamer ; but the sheets and halliards were hauled
taut and securely belayed, and every thing was
made fast and battened down in such a way that
nothing short of a hurricane could dislodge it.

" The old man understands his business,"
remarked Valentine ; " and I fancy he thinks that
it may need all he knows to pull us through. Look
at the cloud now ! "

Valentine again turned his eyes toward the south-
west. The small cloud had suddenly become very
much larger, and was now seen to be connected
with a mass of dark vapor that was rapidly crowd-
ing upon that section of the horizon, and of which
it was the pioneer. This vapor was of an extraor-
dinary darkness, or rather blackness ; it had not
the blue shade that is often seen in storm clouds,
but was of the hue of the densest factory smoke,

THE SffADO W 'OF DEA Tff. 1 13

with yellow and greenish streaks upon it here and
there. The rim or upper margin of the on-coming
blackness continued to advance with such astonish-
ing rapidity that after only a few moments it had
blotted itself upon all that quarter of the horizon,
and now seemed to have embodied the fore-running
cloud, or to have incorporated itself with it. Look-
ing more closely at it, its edges and surface
appeared wildly commoted, flakes and shreds of
vapor, like black fleece, being torn off from the
general mass, and whirled around, or snatched
in various directions, so swiftly that the eye
could scarcely follow their movements. The
green and yellow streaks were multiplied and
other colors were represented until the inky
surface assumed an aspect of hideous iridescence.
Meanwhile the northern and eastern portions of
the sky and sea remained unchanged in their sultry
calm, except that, the light of the setting sun being
cut off, their aspect had a strange feverish ghast-
liness, unlike the tints of nature. A hot, faint air
drew past the vessel in the direction of the black
canopy, as if it were sucked thither by some malign
attraction. Presently the ears of the observers
began to be conscious of a singular minor sound,
somewhat resembling that produced by the wind on
a telegraph wire, only infinitely more hollow, deep,
and reverberating. It resounded all over the level
surface of the pallid sea, and appeared to be echoed
back from the horizon and the vault above, as if
the heavens were a metallic enclosing dome. It

H4 THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

sang and resounded and roared, but still with an
inner sound, as if that which uttered it were still
afar, or walled off by some obstacle that it had not
yet overcome. Every thing else was deathly still ;
the plash of the foam against the vessel's bows and
under her stern was the only other sound, but that
seemed abnormally loud.

Tne captain's voice on the bridge broke out with
startling distinctness, though he spoke not above
his customary pitch. He gave the order to put the
vessel about. Immediately she began to swing
round on her course, describing a semicircular
sweep with her stern ; and in a few minutes she
lay with the cloud at her back, and her bows pointed
towards the unclouded regions of the northeast.
Her propeller still moved, but slowly ; she was like
a champion awaiting the onset of an enemy and
gathering himself up for the struggle.

The enemy was now at hand. By this time the
central advance had thrown out two long black
arms that crept along the horizon to the right and
left, enclosing the vessel in a deadly embrace.
Darkness fell over them as from an eclipse ; the
unshadowed east, ere it vanished altogether from
sight, looked like a scene viewed through a tunnel.
The moment was one of awful suspense ; no human
creature could long have endured it without giving
way to some outbreak of intolerable emotion. The
blood flowed thick in the veins ; the brain throbbed
confusedly ; the breath came in difficult sighs.
With a sudden but majestic upward gradation, the

THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 115

minor roar swelled to deafening shrieks of noise ;
there was a vision of a white fury of waters astern;
a blast as cold as winter swept from the taffrail to
the bowsprit ; the darkness shut down and became
absolute, so that the observer seemed plunged into
impalpable pitch ; and then with a paralyzing
shock the hurricane smote the vessel, beating her
down into the sea as by the sheer weight of a giant
hand. The next instant, with a shudder and a
spring, she leaped forward, staggered, and leaped
again. Fragments of boiling surge hurtled along
her decks, striking what they encountered with the
force of grapeshot. The mizzen-mast broke off
within a yard of the deck, and, lashing forward,
struck the main-mast and brought it down in ruin,
though the noise of the crash was inaudible in the
yell of the frenzied gale. The steamer was rushing
onward at headlong speed, yet she seemed to be
standing still, so fast did wind and sea fly past
her. She reeled, staggered, leaped, was buried,
and rose again, again to be overwhelmed. It
seemed another world, another age, compared with
the sunlight and calm of a few minutes previous.
Blind, whirling, weltering chaos had engulfed all
things ; nothing could be seen, nothing heard,
nothing done nor directed ; only awful plungings
and strainings could be felt, and thunderous blows
and shocks. Only by these signs could it be known
that the vessel was still above the water, still being
swept onward. Whither, and to what fate, none
could foretell.

Ii6 THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

The sea was at first beaten flat by the wind,
though great pieces of water were stripped from
the surface and dashed through the air ; by and by,
however, waves began to form, but irregularly,
some rolling low, some reaching aloft and stalking
gigantic. One of these, hurrying through the black-
ness, mounted the steamer's stern and traversed her
deck to the bows, carrying with it the funnel, the
remaining mast, and every thing on board that
offered resistance. That wave struck the forecastle
with a report like the bursting of a siege-gun, stove
through the oaken planks, and dashed a hundred
tons of water through the opening. All therein
were drowned and crushed to pieces, and the
bodies of several were whirled out again and carried
like rags off into the waste of the tornado.
Heavily the ship rose from the blow ; it seemed as if
she could never rise again. But up she came, and
the weight of water went booming aft, breaking
down partitions and deluging cabins and state-
rooms. More than fifty men were killed or dis-
abled by that single buffet ; and the survivors
believed that the end of all of them could be not
many minutes distant.

But it so happened that no catastrophe of equal
terror followed. The ship drove on, sometimes
threatening to broach to, yet maintaining her steer-
age way beyond all expectation, on the whole ; and
when some time had passed — how long, no one
ever knew — the hurricane fell faint, and in a breath
or two, as it seemed, died quite away. The dark-

THE SHADOW OF DEATH. n?

ness lightened, and straight overhead appeared a
patch of sky half-veiled by wheeling shreds of
mist. They were in the center of the tornado :
and now the waves leaped up with a rebound so
breakneck and astounding that all sense of vertical
and horizontal was lost, and the vessel reared and
pitched like a maddened broncho. This phase of
the battle between ship and storm bade fair
to be more dangerous than the opening experience ;
but, however that might be, it did not last long.
The inky cloud shut down again ; again rose the
shriek of rushing winds, coming now from the op-
posite point of the compass, and once more the dis-
mantled and bruised hulk sprang forward on her
fearful race, galvanized, as it were, into preter-
natural activity by a force not her own. Stripped
bare as she was, and weighted by the water she
had taken on board, she moved more steadily than
at first. Nor could the nerves of those who still
manned her continue to respond as before to the
call of horror. The worst was past for them, even
should death itself be in store. None knew at that
time who were living and who were dead ; each
held on to whatever support was nearest him and
waited in darkness and uncertainty for what might
come. The engine fires had been put out, and all
the men available were taking -turns at the wheel,
in a desperate and unequal struggle to keep her
before the wind. Some felt that it would be a re-
lief if the ship would founder and go down. But
she swept on, outstripping death itself. Suddenly

Il8 THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

one of the passengers, who had been alternately
praying and blaspheming in the cabin, broke out
in a yell of mad laughter, and rushed up the com-
panion-way and out on the deck. The hurricane
caught him and hurled him forward ; he was
jammed between the stump of the mainmast and
the shaft of one of the anchors, which had some-
how been carried there ; the wind turned his coat
over his head and whipped it into ribbons in a mo-
ment ; in another moment he was naked to the
waist ; then he was twisted and beaten and lashed
about until he was a shapeless mass of bloody
flesh and shattered bones. At length a sudden
pitch of the vessel loosened the anchor, and it and
the corpse went overboard together, and the ship
swept on.

It was perhaps an hour after this, and long after
the most sanguine had yielded dumbly to despair,
that the steamer rose on a monstrous wave, which
mounted and mounted beneath her until it seemed
as if it would end by carrying her through the sky ;
then, with a last furious effort, flung her forward,
and slipped back under her keel. The great ves-
sel was carried on by the impetus of the onset, and
fell with an appalling crash, not on the sea again,
but on the solid earth. Her voyage was over, and
she was in port at last.

Her iron ribs were crushed by the fall, but her
frame still held together, and all motion ceased.
The wind still shrieked and the sea bellowed and
thundered, but no waves struck the ship. She

THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 119

seemed to have been lifted beyond their reach ; but
where they were no one knew, nor could have
guessed within a hundred miles. After an interval,
the quartermaster, who had been the last man at
the wheel, crept to the companion-way, and, secur-
ing himself by a rope passed round his waist and
made fast to the railing below, looked out.

At first he could distinguish nothing, and the
rush of the wind stifled him ; he dragged himself
back and waited. He had not waited long before
it appeared to him that the noise of the hurricane
was abating, and the darkness was less intense.
At length he ventured forth again. Moment by
moment the wind was decreasing ; the change was
not so sudden as it had been when the center of the
tornado passed over them, and occasionally there
was a return of rage and fury. But these became
less and less frequent, and there were great cleav-
ages upwards through the clouds, revealing the
remote sparkle of stars, for the sun had gone down
long since. One by one, those of the ship's com-
pany and passengers who remained came on deck
and stared about them. Were they on a desert
island ?

A number of square otyjects, curiously symmetri-
cal in shape, and distributed with an appearance of
regularity, became visible in the immediate neigh-
borhood of the steamer. They were all of nearly
the same height, though in their other dimensions
they varied considerably ; their sides were whitish,
the tops darker. In front of the vessel, as she lay,

120 THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

the land rose upwards in a gentle slope, and these
rectangular objects showed themselves thickly in
that direction.

" They don't look unlike houses," remarked the
quartermaster, peering earnestly through the gloom.
" I don't know any coast hereabouts that has
rocks like that."

" If they were houses," said the second officer,
who stood near, with his arm broken, "we should
be in the midst of a town, and no small town
either."

« Hark ! what's that ? "

All listened. There was the soui.d of a halloo,
clearly repeated, and in a moment it was answered
from a further distance. Then in several direc-
tions, near and far, were heard calls, cries, and
lamentations. The listeners uttered murmurs of
surprise and perplexity.

Just then a great mass of cloud in the east broke
away, and the full moon shone forth with surpass-
ing brilliance, shedding over the scene a light
which, in comparison with the previous darkness,
seemed as bright as day. It revealed an extraor-
dinary spectacle.

Beyond the stem of the steamer extended the
tossing waters of a large bay, strewn with wreck-
age and an indescribable medley of floating
objects. In front and on either side were the
streets and houses of a half-destroyed town. The
steamer had been carried over the sea-wall, and
lay beyond the wharves, between the ruins of a

THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 121

hotel and a large warehouse. A little way off
was what had been a public pleasure-garden or
casino ; it looked as if a gigantic roller had been
passed over it. In a terrace higher up a heavy
iron gun stuck out like a half-driven bolt ; it had
been whipped out of a vessel in the bay and borne
nearly half a mile, passing completely through a
house on the way. Nearly every house left stand-
ing was unroofed ; many were torn from their
foundations and thrown topsy-turvy. The iron
shaft of a street lamp was bent over and twisted
like a corkscrew. In the center of a small fort to
the west of the town was a brig, with one mast still
standing. A floating wharf just outside the sea-
wall was sunk ; a steamer was on top of it, and on
top of the steamer,lying crosswise, were the remains
of a three-masted merchant-ship. A large provis-
ion-store had been blown to pieces, and the stores
whirled about in all directions over the town and
adjacent lands. In the bay, now rapidly becoming
calmer, appeared the masts of a score of sunken
vessels, sticking up like reeds in a swamp. Among
them floated casks, blocks, spars, boxes, quantities
of oranges and cocoanuts, fragments of trees, the
rafters and beams of houses ; and bobbing about
everywhere were the drowned and mutilated corpses
of hundreds of men and women. But these were
not to remain long visible. Ever and anon there
would be a swirl in the water, a jerk and a splash,
and a shark would glide away with a human arm
or leg in his jaws. The banquet was an unusually

122 THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

rich one, and the banqueters were assembling in
thousands.

" Well," said the quartermaster, as his eyes rap-
idly traversed this scene. " I've heard of miracles,
but this is the nearest to one that ever I saw. Of
all the things that might have happened, this is
the unlikeliest ; we get caught in a hurricane, and
blown north and south, we don't know where, nor
whether we were under water or above it ; and
here at last we find ourselves high and dry, in the
port we were bound for, and within a dozen rods
of the very wharf we should have lain up to ! This
is a queer world ! "

" What place do you say this is ? " inquired one
of the passengers, drawing near.

" This is St. Thomas, sir — what there is left of
it — and no other place in the world. Oh, is that
you, Mr. Martin ? I'm glad to see you safe and
sound ; I expect a good half of us will never speak
again. Where is your friend, sir ? "

" I don't know," replied the other ; " I have
been looking for him. I haven't seen him since
the time the wind first stopped blowing out at sea."

" It was that big wave that came aboard us, most
likely," said the quartermaster, gloomily. " That
carried off the captain, and many a good man
with him. You may sail the seas till you're an old
man, sir, and never see the like of that storm again."

But his interlocutor had moved away, and was
beginning a search through the ship, in the forlorn
hope of finding at least the body of his friend.

CHAPTER XIII.

TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION.

THE day appointed for Percy's trial was a week
after he left New York. During this period,
his mother and sister and Judge Ketelle were the
only persons who knew of his escape. On the
morning of the trial, the judge dropped into In-
spector Byrnes's office, with a newspaper in his
hand and a very grave face.

" I want to call something to your recollection,
Inspector," said he ; " something of importance to
me, though you may have forgotten it."

" Oh, you mean young Percy Nolen's case, don't
you ? " returned the Chief of Detectives. " I
remember ; he was accused of a robbery in a jew-
elry store, and you went bail for him in fifteen
hundred dollars. Yes, the trial comes on to-day."

" You have a good memory. Well, you are per-
haps not aware that Percy left New York on the
day following the examination, and never returned."

" Yes, judge, I happen to be aware of that, too.
You see, we anticipated there might be some diffi-
culty of the kind, and so we put a man on to watch
him. Mr. Nolen spent that night at Mr. Martin's

124 TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION.

rooms on Fifth Avenue. The next morning, some
one whom our man took to be Martin walked out and
went up town. An hour or two later, Martin him-
self came out. Instead of following him, our man
made the mistake of going upstairs to see whether
Nolen was in the rooms. In that way they both
got off. We did every thing in our power to stop
them, but it was too late. I sincerely hoped he
would think better of it, and come back. I am
sorry for you, but there it is ! "

" As regards myself, I'm not a loser. I don't
mind telling you that, a few hours after his escape,
I received by letter the amount of the bail ; it
came, I have reason to believe, from Martin. All
Percy's outstanding bills were also paid, probably
by the same hand. Of course, Percy should have
stood his trial, and had I had any inkling of what
he intended I should have used every means to
prevent his departure. But at any rate he left no
debts behind him."

" He made the mistake of his life," said the In-
spector emphatically. " As the reason why will be
known in a few hours, I may as well tell you now.
In the first place, the evidence againt him was not
conclusive, and, taking every thing into consider-
ation, the chances are that he would have been
acquitted. His looks and manner and his previous
record and social standing were in his favor, though
it is true that he had been making a fool of himself
here and there, as boys sometimes will. But a
fellow like that is not likely to steal a lady's pocket-

TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION. 125

book, in face of the absolute certainty of being
suspected of it. The game wasn't worth the
candle."

" I quite agree with you," replied the judge ;
" still, there was a possibility that the verdict
might go against him ; and you can understand
that a conviction would be as good as death to
him."

" Even then, if he were innocent, the guilty party
would be sure to turn up sooner or later, and he
would be vindicated. I could make a guess, even
now, as to who the thief really is ; but he has not
committed himself yet, and as the money stolen was
in bank notes of course it is more difficult to trace
than jewels or any kind of personal property would
be. But that is not the point I was going to make.
If he had appeared in court to-day, he would have
been a free man ever after."

" How can you know that ? "

u In this way. You have heard all about that
affair of his with the wife of the plaintiff. No actual
harm had been done, but she was compromised and
her husband had heard of it ; they had had some
words about it probably ; and when he found
Nolen in such an awkward predicament, he natur-
ally was not going to lose the opportunity of jump-
ing on him. So he pressed the charge, as we saw.
But his wife did what he had not anticipated — she
joined him in the accusation, and thereby ranged
herself definitely on his side. Of course that took
the wind out of his sails ; it proved that she hated

126 TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION.

Percy as much as he did, and therefore removed
his own chief reason for hating him."

" I understand ; but — "

" Very well. Having no longer any especial
reason for revenging himself upon Percy, and prob-
ably not believing, on sober second thought, that
he had committed the crime, he would begin to ask
himself how the public trial would affect his wife
and himself. And the first thing he would see would
be that it would involve letting out the whole story
of the flirtation. Now, if his wife had persisted in
her folly, instead of acting the part of a virtuous
cur, as she did, he might have been willing to have
her shown up ; but as it was, he would desire to
hush it up as securely as possible. There was only
one way to do that, and that was — "

" Ah ! I see. The plaintiff would decline to
prosecute ? "

" Exactly ; and that (as I have the best reason
for knowing) is just what he has done. His coun-
sel are instructed to withdraw the charge; and of
course, under the circumstances the judge would
allow him to do so. But when they see that the
prisoner is not on hand, it may cause them to
modify this course. They might profess themselves
ready to go on with the case, and as the prisoner is
absent judgment would issue against him."

" It is that result that I hoped to avoid. It would
be a sad thing for an honorable family to be
dragged through the dust in this way for a crime
for which the accused is not responsible,"

TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION. 127

" He should have had the manliness to face his
accusers," repeated the Inspector. " No one knows
better than you, judge, that in this world a man
must defend himself. He can not expect other
people to find excuses for him. But, as I say, he
may live it down ; he is a young fellow yet, and — "

" Have you seen this morning's paper ? " inter-
posed the judge.

" I have looked through it. Is there any thing
particular ?"

The judge held out the paper, with his finger on
a certain paragraph. The Inspector took it and
read as follows :

"A terrible hurricane is reported as having
occurred in the neighborhood of St. Thomas, W. I.,
on the i3th ult. It is described as the severest
ever known in those latitudes. It was preceded in
the morning by a dead calm and excessive heat.
Early in the afternoon weatherwise persons pre-
dicted a heavy blow. The prophecy was soon
verified. Clouds were observed collecting in the
southwest ; they rapidly increased in size and
darkness, and advanced toward the northeast,
from which quarter a gentle breeze was blowing.
The storm burst with terrific fury. The harbor of
St. Thomas is a large basin, the entrance to which
is a comparatively narrow pssage between two
headlands. The harbor was at the time filled with
shipping, including several steamers and large
vessels. One of the steamers was at the time tak-
ing on passengers; the captain gave orders that

128 TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION.

this should be stopped, and steamed out of the
harbor in the hope of weathering the gale. The
steamer has not since been heard of, but fragments
of it have been picked up at sea, and there is no
doubt that she perished with all on board. The
storm was accompanied by intense darkness, greater
than that of an ordinary midnight without moon or
stars. The wind's velocity was estimated to reach
no less than two hundred miles an hour, and the
destruction it caused was terrible. After blowing
for a couple of hours from the southwest it hauled
about and blew with equal violence from the north-
east. All the shipping in the harbor was destroyed,
and several vessels were lifted out of the water and
carried inland. One large merchant ship was taken
up bodily and planted in the midst of a warehouse
near the shore. The houses of the town were un-
roofed and in most cases annihilated. Upwards of
four hundred lives were reported lost, and the
harbor was full of corpses, which were devoured by
the sharks. One of the most remarkable episodes
of this disastrous storm was that of the U. S. and
B. Co.'s steamship Amazon. She was due at St.
Thomas on the day after that on which the hur-
ricane occurred. She had cleared from New York
with six passengers and a full cargo. She had fair
weather up to within two hundred miles of St.
Thomas, and was somewhat ahead of her schedule
time. According to the narration of the survivors,
she met the hurricane about three o'clock on the
afternoon of the i3th. She was put about so as to

TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION. 129

run before the gale. The wind and waves almost
immediately dismasted her, and it was found im-
possible to do more than keep her before the wind,
even this taxing all the powers of those on board.
At one time she was pooped by a heavy sea which
broke into the forecastle and swept many over-
board. When the wind veered about the steamer
became virtually unmanageable ; she drove before
the gale, and it was expected that she must founder.
But after several hours she was suddenly beached ;
and on the storm breaking it was discovered that
she was lying in the main street of St. Thomas,
close to her own dock. In the darkness she must
have been driven through the narrow entrance of
the harbor, and so across to the town, avoiding by
a miracle numberless obstacles. She is, however,
a complete wreck, and half her ship's company were
swept overboard and drowned, while many of the
others have received severe injuries. Of the six
passengers who were on board the following are
killed : Alfred Harper, went insane and washed
overboard ; Charles Tupper, neck broken ; James
Blair, washed overboard ; Percy Nolen, washed
overboard. The surviving passengers are Herbert
Simpson and Valentine Martin. Mr. Martin occu-
pied the same stateroom with Mr. Nolen, and is
much affected by his death. He says he saw him
shortly before the time when the steamer was
pooped ; he was on his way to the forecastle, under
the impression, it is supposed, that there was greater
security there than in the stern. Mr. Martin left

130 TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION.

for Vera Cruz yesterday. It is his intention to
return by way of Aspinwall to his sheep-farm in
New Zealand, near Napier."

Having read thus far, the inspector laid down
the paper, and stroked his chin awhile with a med-
itative air. " So the young man is drowned, is
he ? " he said, at length. " The account seems to
look that way."

" Do you mean there can be any doubt about
it?" exclaimed the judge.

" I don't say there is ; and as a matter of course,
judge, I recognize the sincerity of your attitude.
Still, if I were interested in the boy, I should think
twice before I accepted this news as conclusive.
Have you heard any thing personally ? "

" Nothing. This is all we know, so far."

" Well, you are aware that people reported
drowned at sea sometimes have a way of coming to
life again. The sea is a big place, and it's diffi-
cult to be sure what becomes of a man in a heavy
storm, when every thing's as black as pitch. Then
again young Nolen, you must admit, might find it
convenient to have it supposed he was permanently
out of the way. He could start in under a new
name, with very little fear of ever being interfered
with. When this affair has blown over or been
cleared up, he might come back, and all would be
right again. I don't say that i$ what has hap-
pened ; I only say it might be so. And, consider-
ing that Mr. Martin was a friend of the family, it
seems a little odd that he shouldn't have sent a

TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION. 131

letter giving a full account of the affair. He must
have known what a value the mother and sister
would have put upon it."

" I hope with all my heart your theory may be
the true one ! " said the judge. " But I fear the
report is correct," he added, after a pause. " There
can be no doubt about the hurricane, nor that
Percy was on the steamer. There was no necessity
of inventing a report of his death ; he would be as
safe in Mexico or New Zealand as at the bottom of
the Atlantic. No, I'm afraid the poor boy is gone.
And, I was saying just now, I trust that no steps
will be taken to-day to blacken his memory. The
cause of justice would not be vindicated, and it
would add a terrible pang to his mother's and sis-
ter's grief. Some consideration should be shown
to them."

" Well, let us go down to the court-room," said
the Inspector, rising and taking his hat. " I don't
suppose any one wants to trample on a dead man
— not even the woman he was in love with."

This surmise proved partly correct. On the
case being called, counsel for the plaintiff sub-
mitted that their client was disposed to abandon
the prosecution. The court asked where the pris-
oner was, and the report of his death was put in.
The court observed that the prisoner appeared to
have intended forfeiting his bail, and was of the
opinion that the evidence of death was insufficient.
But as the plaintiff wished to withdraw, and there

132 TO AWAIT CONFIRMATION.

was only a moderate presumption of guilt, the
case would be adjourned pending confirmation of
the report of death, when the question of estreat-
ing the bail would be decided.

CHAPTER XIV.

A POWERFUL ALLY.

QEVERAL days after this event, the Inspector
O was informed that a lady desired to see him.
He gave orders that she be admitted, and a young
woman dressed in mourning entered the room. She
was pale and handsome, with powerful dark eyes.
The Inspector rose and placed a chair for her.
She sat down, regarding him with great intentness,
as if endeavoring to satisfy herself what manner of
man he was.

" Can I be of any assistance to you, madam ?"
the detective inquired.

" I hope you may," was her reply, " for I don't
know where to look for help, unless to you. You
were officially cognizant, were you not, of the case
of Mr. Percy Nolen, who was accused of a robbery
a few weeks ago ? "

The Inspector inclined his head. " It came to
my knowledge, in the ordinary routine," he said.
" It has been adjourned, as you are probably aware,
and the chances are that it will not soon be heard
of again."

" Percy Nolen was my brother," she resumed.

134 A POWERFUL ALLY.

" He was lost at sea." Her lips trembled, but she
recovered herself — the Inspector noted that she
seemed to possess unusual self-command — and
went on. My mother and I are the only ones of
the family left alive ; and my mother is an invalid.
My brother died with a shadow upon his name, and
I consider it my duty to remove it. I am sure that
it can be done ; and I am ready to make any effort
or sacrifice to do it. Nothing would be a sacrifice
that would accomplish that result."

" I'm afraid you will find it no easy matter, Miss
Nolen. Speaking as a professional man, I must
say that the prospect is not a hopeful one."

" I don't expect it to be easy ; but I am deter-
mined to succeed, and I mean to give all my life
and energy to it," said she, in the same quiet tone
which she had used from the first, but with immense
underlying earnestness. " Of course, I know
nothing about the ways of finding out criminals, and I
don't think that, in an ordinary matter, I should make
a good detective ; but this is a thing I care so much
about that it's different. I believe that if the man
who stole that money was to pass me on the street
I should feel that it was he."

The Inspector dropped his pencil, and stooped
to pick it up. The notion of identifying criminals
by emotional intuition was not without its humorous
side ; but he did not wish his smile to be seen ;
and by the time he had recovered his pencil he had
recovered his gravity likewise. " Even if you were
able to recognize him in that way, Miss Nolen," he

A POWERFUL ALLY. 135

remarked, " there would be no evidence in that to
fasten the crime upon him. The jury might think you
were mistaken, and would refuse to convict ; in fact,
I don't think you could persuade any judge on the
bench to grant you a warrant."

" I wasn't thinking of putting it on that ground,"
Pauline replied, coloring a little. " But when I
have convinced myself that I know the man, I
would find evidence against him that would con-
vince the world too. Only let me know him first,
and the rest would be easy."

"Well, all I can say is, I hope you'll find him."

" I should not have corne here to waste your
time merely by telling you this," she continued,
looking up at him firmly. " I wish to tell you
something that may indicate who he is, and then
you will be able, perhaps, to help me find out
where he is and what his record is. I don't suppose
you know that Percy was not my only brother ? "

The detective intimated that he did not.

" My other brother's name was Jerrold. He died
a few years ago. They had reason to think that
his death was hastened by foul means. The man
whom he accused of it was tried ; the case was
appealed several times, but at last, after having
been confined for over a year, the accused was
acquitted. He said that he would be revenged upon
us. Why may he not have taken this way to be
revenged ? "

The Inspector began to be interested. " What
was his name ? " he asked.

136 A POWERFUL ALLY.

" His name was Horace Dupee. He was a
medical student."

" Tell me the circumstances. I may recollect
something of it."

" When my brother Jerrold left college he decided
to be a physician, and he began the study of medi-
cine here in New York. He attended lectures and
went to the hospitals. He was fond of fun, and a
favorite with his fellow-students, and, I suppose, he
was rather imprudent in his habits. He was good-
natured and excitable, and the others led him on.

" The way the end came was this. There was a
supper given to one of the students who had got
through his course. He was the Horace Dupee I
spoke of. He was a clever man, I believe. I never
saw him ; and he and Jerrold were great friends.
There were ten or twelve other young men at the
supper. They drank a good deal of wine, and
became noisy and excited. They began to play
practical jokes on one another. At last Horace
Dupee got up to make a speech. My brother, who
sat near him, kept interrupting him with jokes and
laughing. He got angry finally — Dupee did — and
made some threat or said some insulting thing. My
brother instantly threw a glass of wine in his face,
glass and all.

" Dupee rushed at him and struck him with his
fist. They began to fight ; but my brother was the
stronger, and he struck Dupee in the face, so that
he fell over a chair. Then the others separated
them ; and my brother, after a moment, forgot his

A POWERFUL ALLY. 137

anger, and wanted to make friends with Dupee
again, but Dupee would not for a while, but the
others urged him, until at last he laughed and came
and shook hands with my brother, and pretended
that he was quite reconciled ; but he said after-
wards to one of the young men that he * would be
even with Nolen yet.'

" They had been on the point of breaking up
before, but after this they got to drinking and
talking again ; and Dupee came and sat down by my
brother, and kept filling his glass for him, but only
pretending to drink himself, until my brother
got quite intoxicated and acted foolishly. It was
then after midnight, and the young men began to
go home, and Dupee said he would see my brother
to his lodgings. My father and mother and my-
self were not in New York just then ; we had gone
down to a Southern watering-place on account of
my mother being delicate, and Jerrold was staying
in furnished rooms in a boarding-house.

" He and Dupee started off together after leaving
the others. My brother could walk, but he was not
fit to take care of himself. The boarding-house
was on West Twenty-third Street, some way down.
The door had a covered porch to it, and was nearly
on a level with the sidewalk. It was a winter night,
but there was no snow on the ground.

" It was not quite one o'clock in the morning
when they left the restaurant together. At two
o'clock the policeman whose beat was on that part
of Twenty-third Street saw some one lying in the

13 A POWERFUL ALLY.

porch of the boarding-house. He examined him,
and found that he was in evening dress, with an
overcoat on ; he was insensible, and his pockets
were empty. There did not seem to be any mark
of violence on him. The policeman thought he
was insensible from drink ; he knocked up the
people in the house, and when he found that my
brother lived there helped to take him up to his
room. But there was a physician living in the
house, and he came and looked at my brother, and
saw there was something wrong ; at last he found a
bruise on his head, behind the ear, made with some
blunt instrument, for the skin was not cut, but it
had produced concussion of the brain. Towards
dawn he partly recovered consciousness, and when
he was asked about his injuries he mumbled some-
thing about Dupee ; but they could not get any-
thing definite from him. A telegram was sent to
us at Old Point Comfort, where we were stopping.
My mother was too ill to move ; I stayed with her,
and my father went on at once, but he arrived too
late. My brother — "

Her voice faltered, and she broke off. The
story had been told with entire simplicity, but with
intense vividness and earnestness. The scenes
which she described seemed to be before her as
she spoke, and the emotion which she had striven
to repress broke forth at last in a few quick sobs.
She soon controlled herself and added, " My father
had an inquest held ; the young men who had been
present at the supper were called upon to testify,

A POWERFUL ALLY. 139

and they told of the quarrel, and the apparent
reconciliation ; and it was shown that Horace
Dupee was the last person seen with my brother.
In his examination Dupee said that he had taken
him home and left him in his doorway, bidding him
good-night : and that, though my brother had
seemed not quite himself, yet he was able to take
care of himself. He denied any knowledge of the
blow. But it was proved that he had threatened my
brother ; and it was thought that he might have
emptied my brother's pockets only to make it
appear that the murder 'was the work of some
common thief. So the coroner held him for trial."

" I remember the case now," put in the Inspec-
tor. " The case was pushed against him vigorously,
but it broke down at last for want of conclusive
evidence, and Dupee was discharged, as you say,
after having been kept in gaol for a year. Well, I
must say, Miss Nolen, that the doubt as to his
guilt appears a reasonable one ; and, supposing him
to have been innocent, he has certainly received
hard treatment ; for such an accusation as that,
though not proved, is enough to ruin a man's
career."

" I da not believe he was innocent, Inspector
Byrnes ! I am sure that he was guilty, and, having
escaped punishment for that, he means to do us
more injury still. No — an innocent man would not
have been ruined by an unjust accusation ! It
would have stimulated him to prove by his after-
life that he had been wronged."

140 A POWERFUL ALLY.

" Do you know what his subsequent life has
been? " inquired the Inspector.

" I have heard enough to know that it has been
what I should have expected it to be. He has
associated with low and dishonest people ; he has
gone under different names, and it is probable
that he may have been arrested more than once
for other crimes. I have always felt that he was
our enemy, and have expected that something like
this would happen. I am the only one of us left
to fight him, Inspector Byrnes. He killed my
eldest brother ; he was the means of bringing
about the disgrace and death of Percy ; my father
died of disappointment and grief ; my mother is a
broken-down invalid. But I am strong and well,
and I am determined to bring him to justice ! Will
you help me ? "

Her eyes darkened and her cheeks flushed as she
put the question. The Inspector, though he could
not but perceive that the chances were against the
correctness of her theory, was touched by her
earnestness.

" In what way would you expect me to assist
you ? " he inquired.

" You can communicate with the police in all
parts of the country," she answered, " and you
know, or can find out, the history of ail the
criminals who have been arrested in New York
and in many other places. What I ask you to do
is to trace the record of Horace Dupee from the
time he left the gaol on the termination of his trial

A POWERFUL ALLY. 141

till now. Find out his associates, and make them
give evidence against him ; learn what his aliases
have been, and whether he was not in New York
on the day that Mrs. Tunstall lost her money. If
he was — and I am sure it will turn out so — it will
be found that he had money to spend soon after-
wards, and perhaps some one of the bank-notes
can be traced to him. Oh ! " she exclaimed, lifting
one hand with an irrepressible gesture, " if I
can see him stand before me in the prisoner's dock,
I shall have lived long enough ! "

" Upon my word, Miss Nolen," remarked the
Inspector with a smile, " I wouldn't envy the
man who had done you an injury, be he who he
may ; and if this fellow Dupee, or any one else,
has been guilty of the crimes you charge him with
I hope with all my heart you may live to see him
convicted of them — and a long time afterwards,
too ! As for my share in the business, I can
assure you that all possible investigations shall be
made and, if Dupee has really joined the criminal
classes it will probably only be a question of time
before we run across him.' It is something to have
a definite person suspected in connection with the
affair. I don't want to give you any hopes that
I can not fulfil ; but I am willing to say that it is
not impossible something may come out of this."

" I don't ask for promises — only let something
be done ! " Pauline replied, rising and giving her
hand to the detective. He felt the strong clasp of
her little fingers, and smiled again.

142 A POWERFUL ALLY.

" You may depend upon my being at least as
good as my word," he said kindly. " Your cause
is a good one, and, so far as I am connected with
it, you may be certain that it will not suffer. But
you must be prepared for disappointment, and you
must be patient."

CHAPTER XV.

A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.

IT had been the custom with the Nolens, during
the summer months, to go to a seaside resort
known as Squittig Point, on the New England
coast. They owned a small cottage there, consist-
ing of a sitting-room, three bed-rooms, and a
kitchen, and a verandah the area of which was
larger than all the rest of the house. The house
stood upon a low bluff directly overlooking the
beach. There was a semi-circular inlet at this
point, about fifty yards across ; in this a pier had
been constructed, to the end of which a catboat
was moored.

It was a pretty place, but a very quiet one. To
reach it it was necessary to drive five or six miles
from the railway station in the neighboring town.
Within a radius of a mile there were perhaps a
dozen cottages similar to the Nolens' and occupied
chiefly by artists. Milk, eggs, poultry, and vege-
tables were furnished by the farm-houses in the
vicinity ; fish could be caught by any one with a
fishing-line and a boat ; meat and groceries must
be fetched from the town. It was out of the line

144 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.

of fashionable travel ; and those who knew of its
existence, and had established themselves there,
were united in a conspiracy to keep fashion away
from it. If they themselves felt the need of a lit-
tle dissipation, they could be at Newport in four
or five hours, or at Swampscott before night. But
here they could always be sure of rest, seclusion,
charming scenery, and as much fishing, sailing, and
bathing as they wanted. Of course they could
not hope to keep their secret long ; sooner or
later somebody would appear and build a hotel ;
but meanwhile they enjoyed it all the more for
feeling that their exclusive possession of it must
be limited.

Opposite the Point was a line of low islands,
seven or eight miles distant, which served as a
natural breakwater against the violence of the
Atlantic's waves, and gave to the intervening ex-
panse of water the advantages of a bay. They
were also a charm and attraction in themselves ;
for they were constantly undergoing the most sur-
prising changes under the influence of the mirage;
and, being within an easy sail, were often visited for
picnicking purposes by the sojourners in the cot-
tages. Baskets of provisions were carried over,
and the materials for a clam-bake or a chowder
were always obtainable from the sands and the sea.
The time not occupied in cooking and eating
could be devoted to picking huckleberries, practic-
ing with rifle or shot-gun, or, if the age and cir-
cumstances of the members of the party permitted,

A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 145

in quiet flirtations along the beaches or in the
woods. The sail home was made by the red light
of sunset or by the white lustre of the moon.

The winter and spring had passed away without
any news having been obtained concerning Horace
Dupee ; if he had really been in New York at the
time of the perpetration of the robbery, he had en-
tirely disappeared. The only thing to be done was
to wait patiently until he came back again, keeping
a bright but undemonstrative lookout for him in
the meanwhile. As Inspector Byrnes had the
matter in charge, it was not necessary that Pauline
should remain in New York ; she could be com-
municated with at any time, and it might even
hasten the result she desired if she were known to
be out of the city. Accordingly, as summer ap-
proached, and her mother's health manifestly de-
manded a change, preparation were made to go
down to Squittig Point. Judge Ketelle, for
reasons which the reader will perhaps comprehend,
arranged to accompany them. He had not as yet
made any avowal to Pauline of the nature of his
sentiments towards her, but he had been assiduous
in his attentions ; and only the greatness of the
prize at stake withheld him from putting his fate to
the touch at once.

They arrived about the middle of June. The
cottage had previously been put in order for their
reception ; curtains unpacked and put up ; mat-
tings spread on the floors ; hammocks swung in the
verandas ; Venetian blinds fastened over the

146 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.

windows. The catboat had been routed out of her
winter quarters in the barn, a new coat of paint had
been given her, new sheets and halliards rove, and
her shrunken seams had been soaked till they were
water-tight. There she rested at her moorings as
gracefully as a sea-gull. Every thing being ready,
the party, convoyed by the judge, drove out from
the town one fine day and took possession. It was
sunset by the time the last trunk was moved in.
They had supper, and then sat out on the veranda
enjoying the pure salt air and the liquid outlook
over the bay. There was a faint breeze ; little
waves made a barely audible plash on the shore of
the cove. The boat curtesyed gently off the end
of the pier, as if welcoming its owners back to
nature. The moon rose late and red ; it was past
the full. To the right, beyond the point, the light-
house lamp flashed intermittently ; a sloop drifted
past half a mile out, and the sound of a banjo
tinkled audibly across the water. " It's delicious ! "
murmured the judge, sitting with Mrs. Nolen
on one side of him and Pauline on the other, and a
cigar between his lips. " To-morrow we'll go out
in the boat and visit the island."

Mrs. Nolen gave a sigh. She was thinking of
her son drowned at sea.

Pauline understood what the sigh meant; but she
was made of other metal than her mother. " I
mean to learn how to sail the boat myself this sum-
mer," she said. " I like the sea ; I would like to

A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA, 147

live beside it, or on it, always. How soft and gentle
it is now ! But when the storms come — ! "

" I can give you lessons in sailing," observed
the judge. " You know, when I was a boy I spent
a year before the mast."

" I learned something last year from Percy,"
Pauline replied, " and, now that he has become a
part of the sea, I shall feel more at home on it than
before."

The next day, accordingly, the practice of navi-
gation began, and was continued day by day there-
after. Pauline showed herself an apt pupil, and
was, indeed, quicker in an emergency than the
judge himself. Mrs. Nolen at first could not be
prevailed on to accompany them ; but, one warm
day, they induced her to venture out, and the ex-
perience was so pleasant that she repeated it from
time to time.

Meanwhile, the judge's affair was manifestly
approaching a crisis. The constant companion-
ship of the girl he loved was inexpressibly sweet to
him, and he was unable to repress some manifesta-
tion of it ; yet he could not decide whether or not
Pauline cared enough about him to accept him as
her husband. That she esteemed him highly was
evident, and that her affection for him was deep
and sincere ; but there are many kinds of affection,
and the question was whether her affection was of
a kind capable of being developed into the love of
a wife. The judge wished with all his heart that
he could do her some immense service, or make

148 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.

for her sake some noble sacrifice, which might
serve to draw her nearer to him. But such things
can not be commanded at will, and seldom occur
when they are wanted. It seemed that he must
trust to whatever unaided merit he possessed to
win her heart.

Pauline had always been mature for her age ;
but since the calamity that had fallen upon her
she had developed greatly. She was graver and
more taciturn than before, and her manner was
more thoughtful and controlled. She seemed
already to have outgrown her girlhood, and to have
attained the strength and experience of a woman.
All this was in the judge's favor ; for his age was
the factor in the matter which he feared most. If
they could meet on more nearly equal terms in this
respect, he could feel more confidence as to the
rest. She conversed with him on his own intel-
lectual level, and consulted him freely and confi-
dentially on all matters of interest to herself. No
friendship between a man and woman could have
been more intimate and genuine ; but it was some-
thing more than friendship that the judge longed
for ; if he could have detected a single glow of
passion in her cheeks, he would have been a much
happier man. On the other hand, Pauline was
quite able to veil her feelings ; and no young
woman of healthy mind can be expected to show
what emotion may be in her, or even to acknowl-
edge it to herself, until she has been fairly challenged.

At length, having become quite accustomed to

A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 1 49

the management of the boat, they decided to make
the trip to the island. The lunch-basket was
packed, and stowed amidships ; fish-lines and hooks
were placed in the locker, in case they should
come across a school of blue-fish ; cushions and
wraps were provided for Mrs. Nolen, and extra
ballast was put into the hold, in order to keep her
steady in case the wind should increase. An early
start was made, for the breeze was so light as
scarcely to ruffle the water, and set nearly in a
direction opposite to that which they wished to
go. In order to get out of the little cove it was
necessary to use the oars ; but after that the wind
gently swelled the sail, and, proceeding by long
tacks, they slowly made their way toward the
island that seemed to quiver and waver in the heat
on the horizon. About eleven o'clock the breeze
freshened a little, and the boat slipped more swiftly,
but still with an even, gliding motion, through the
water. The judge, who fancied he detected signs
of blue-fish, now relinquished the helm to Pauline,
and got out his lines. The squid was thrown out
astern, and cut a tiny wake through the waves,
while the judge, with his finger on the line,
watched it like a hawk. For half an hour, in spite
of several false alarms, nothing was caught , but
finally there was an unmistakable tug, and, hauling
in with feverish rapidity, the judge, in a few
moments, had the pleasure of lifting on board a
fine large demijohn, tightly corked, which had been
hooked by the handle.

150 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.

After the laugh had subsided, the judge suggested
that the demijohn might contain something, and he
knocked off the head against the gunwale of the
boat. About a pint of salt water came out, and
then a fragment of wood — apparently part of the
lid of a cigar-box, on which something had been
written with a pencil. The writing was almost
obliterated, but two or three words, or portions of
words, still remained.

" See if you can make them out, Pauline," said
the judge, after scrutinizing the inscription a few
moments. " Your eyes are better than mine."

Holding the tiller in her left hand, Pauline took
the bit of wood in her right, and looked at it. " I
can make out part of a name," she satd presently,
" and some figures — a date, I suppose . . . Ah ! "

Her lips closed tightly, and her eyes dilated.
The boat swung round into the wind, and lay with
the sail flapping. She had forgotten the tiller.

" What is it ? " asked the judge, in surprise.

She met his eyes, and then glanced stealthily
toward her mother.

" Nothing," said she ; and put the helm over
again. The boat resumed its course, the water
bubbling under the stern. Mrs. Nolen, gazing to-
ward the island, which was now near at hand, had
noticed nothing.

After a moment, she leaned toward him and
whispered in his ear : "It is the name of the steamer
in which Percy sailed, and the date of the. hurri-
cane. Some one must have thrown it overboard in

A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 151

the storm — perhaps it is his own writing. Say
nothing ; mother must not know."

She thrust the bit of wood into the front of her
dress, while the judge drew back with a grave,
concerned face, and folded his arms in silence. It
was a strange event, indeed. That demijohn had
been drifting about on the ocean currents for
months, to be brought, at last, to the very hand for
which it had been perhaps intended. Pauline did
not doubt that Percy had thrown it overboard at the
moment when all hope seemed gone, and probably
just before he himself was swept from the deck ;
and if so it must have been to her that he had in
his heart addressed it.

The incident brought the picture of the disaster
vividly before her imagination ; she had never
realized it so intensely before — the plunging hull,
the reeling decks, the shattered masts, the white
leaps and seething of the maddened seas, the
deafening shriek of the gale, the black darkness
around and overhead ; and her brother, her own
beloved brother, staggering forth into this blind
fury of chaos to waft to her the last message of
despair. She saw it all ; and then, with a long
indrawing of the breath, her eyes beheld the blue
surface of the summer sea, the warm and tender
sky bending over it, the green shore of the island
toward which they were softly gliding. Her heart
melted, and tears wet her cheeks unawares.

" I ajji really glad I came," said Mrs. Nolen,
turning round with a smile. " It has been a

152 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.

delightful sail, and the island looks so pretty !
I hope it will be as nice going back."

" Well begun is half ended," said the judge,
raising the centerboard as the boat entered an
inlet and ran up on the beach ; " and, if the worst
comes to the worst, we have provisions enough to
stay here over night."

CHAPTER XVI.

A STRANGE WOOING.

THE judge pulled off his shoes and stockings
and jumped into the shallow water, and, tug-
ging manfully, pulled the boat up high enough to
render it an easy matter to transport the ladies to
the shore. Mrs. Nolen he took in his arms and
set down on the beach ; then he turned to do the
like service for Pauline, and his heart beat at the
thought of having her for a moment so near him.
But as she stood poising herself in the bows,
light, beautiful, and agile, he perceived that she
meant to make a leap of it, and indeed the dis-
tance was probably not beyond her powers. She
glanced at him at that juncture, and could not
have failed to notice the sudden faltering of his ex-
pression from its previous joyful expectation ; she
hesitated, and then, with a faint blush, held out her
arms, saying, " After all, perhaps you had better
take me."

The judge could not speak ; the revulsion was
too sudden. She had never before done any thing
which seemed so significant, and as he received her
on his sturdy shoulder he experienced a happiness
more poignant than he had ever known. The ac-

154 A STRANGE WOOING.

tion lasted but for an instant, but the effect was by
no means so transient ; on the contrary, it kept
glowing and increasing in his soul, and quite illu-
minated his whole aspect. Pauline, too, was in an
unusual mood ; she seemed softer and more acces-
sible than was usual with her. The tears which she
had lately shed had brought all the woman in her
to the surface. There were tones in her voice that
thrilled to the judge's heart like exquisite music.
The memory of her brother had done her lover
good service.

A spot was selected under the shade of a cedar,
with clean white sand underneath. Here Mrs.
Nolen was established with her cushions, and the
cloth was spread for lunch. The basket was un-
packed, the plates and knives and forks arranged,
and the good things set out. They had brought a
jug of water, but it had become so warm as to be
unpalatable ; so the judge proposed that they
should go and find a spring ; there was sure to be
one not far off. Pauline assented and they started,
leaving Mrs. Nolen beneath the cedar.

" I did not know whether to be glad or sorry
that I was the means of bringing that strange mes-
sage to you," said the judge, when they were out
of ear-shot. " And yet I could not help thinking
that there must have been some providential de-
sign in the matter. It was as if Percy had ap-
pointed me his messenger to you."

" Oh, I am glad— I am only glad ! " rejoined
Pauline musingly, with her eyes downcast. "It

A STRANGE WOOING. 155

puts my doubts at rest. All this time I could not
realize that he was gone. I knew it, of course ;
but it had not been brought home to me. Now I
can feel that all is well with him. I am glad it
came."

" It seems a pity that so much of the message
should be illegible,"' remarked the judge. " It
would have been well to know for a certainty that
it came from Percy's own hand."

" Perhaps it will become more legible when the
wood is dried. But I should not care if it turned
out to have been written by some one else. It is
from Percy's ship — the Amazon — and in that case
it is from him."

" I am a little surprised," said the judge, after a
pause, " that Mr. Martin has not written us some
of the details of the affair. He can hardly have
failed to understand that any information, how-
ever slight, would have been precious to you. You
have not heard from him, have you ? "

"No, and I think you are right. He should
Have written. But I can imagine why he has not.
It was his suggestion that Percy should leave New
York. He urged him to go with him ; he took
that responsibility. The least he could do was to
guard him from harm. When that storm came, he
should not have let him go out of his sight. But,
instead, he let him be drowned. I can understand
why he has not written to me — he would not
dare ! "

She said this with a passionate emphasis. The

156 A STRANGE WOOING.

judge was secretly conscious of a feeling of relief,
but his sense of rectitude compelled him to say,
" It would not be just, I think, to charge Mr. Mar-
tin with being accountable for Percy's death."

" Perhaps it is not logically just ; but that is the
way I feel," was her reply.

By this time they had reached the spring, which
trickled out of a sand-bluff a few feet above high-
water mark, and filled a barrel that had been sunk
in the sand below. The judge knelt down and
plunged the jug into the cool water, which gurgled
into it with a refreshing sound. Pauline stood,
with her hands hanging folded, looking down on
him. The blue sea, the sunshine, the warmth were
inexpressibly soothing.

"How pleasant it is here," she said.

The judge rose, with the jug in his hand. A mo-
ment before he had not meant to speak so soon ;
but now the words seemed to break from him in-
voluntarily.

" Pauline, will you be my wife ? " he said.

She took a step backward, and their eyes met.
She was startled, and the expression of her face at
first seemed to indicate refusal. But after a few
moments the softer look returned to it, mingled
with sadness.

" Would that be best ? " she asked.

" Infinitely best for me. But it is you who must
decide. I have loved you ever since you were a
little girl."

" Does my mother know of this ? "

A STRANGE WOOING. 157

" Yes, since last year ; and she has bidden me
Godspeed. But I do not wish you to be influenced
by that. Decide for yourself alone. I am twice
your years, and more ; but in my love for you I
am young, and shall always be."

She stood silent for a while. She was evidently
touched by his words, and by the manly generosity
of his appeal ; but something was yet wanting to
give the final conviction to her heart, and she was
too true to herself to commit herself without it.

" There is no man living for whom I care so
much as for you," she said at length ; " but I have
never thought of caring for you in that way. I
have depended on you and trusted in you, but to
be your wife. . . . Oh, you must give me time !
I do not know what I think, or feel. But I shall
not be in doubt — I will give you an answer soon.
It seems to me that if I could love you as you wish
it would be a fortunate thing for me — fortunate
that a man like you should wish to marry such a
girl as I am. But give me till to-morrow."

" As long as you need," answered the judge,
huskily. " It is my duty and my happiness to wait
for you, and upon you, as long as I live."

The breeze fell again during the afternoon, and
they delayed their starting in expectation of a
change later on. The result justified their fore-
cast ; for as the moon appeared above the eastern
horizon the clouds began to gather in the west,
and the tops of the trees waved an4 murmured,

1 58 A STRANGE WOOING.

The direction of the wind was such that, after
leaving the island, they could make a nearly straight
run for home, keeping the boom over the port
quarter. In setting out, a long tongue of land,
extending on the southeast, broke the sweep of
the wind, and made it seem much lighter than it
really was. The water was smooth, and the im-
pulse just sufficient to make them glide along rap-
idly. But the moment the point of the cape was
passed the sudden increase in the violence of the
wind fairly startled them. The judge, who was at
the helm, made the mistake of supposing that it
was a gust or temporary squall only, and therefore
did not put back into the smooth water and double-
reef his sail, as he should have done. By the time
he had discovered that the wind had come to stay,
they were too far on their course to make a return
advisable. To have done so would have involved
beating up almost in the teeth of the gale, which
would not only have been a long job, but one
which the height of the waves would have rendered
dangerous. To keep on, on the other hand,
seemed comparatively easy, the wind being nearly
fair, yet not so much so as to involve the peril of
jibing ; the distance, moreover, was not very great,
and the boat, though heavily laden, was going fast.
Accordingly the judge grasped the tiller firmly,
and kept her headed so as to pass the lighthouse
a couple of points to the northwestward.

The three occupants of the little craft were all
seated, of course, close up on the weather side, the

A STRANGE WOOING. 159

spread of sail having a tendency to bear her down
to leeward. The judge sat next the stern ; Paul-
ine was close to him, and Mrs. Nolen was next to
Pauline, her feet being supported against the
sheath of the centreboard. But as they sped along
the waves ran higher and higher, and began at
length to dash over the weather gunwale, wetting
Pauline's back and shoulders, and running down
into the well. The effect of this, after it had con-
tinued for a while, was inevitably to make the boat
sit lower in the water, and thus offer less oppo-
sition to the inroads of the seas ; and it was evi-
dent that an effort must be made to bale her out.
There was a tin dipper in the locker ; not without
difficulty the judge succeeded in getting this out,
and, stooping down, endeavored to bail with his
right hand, while handling the tiller with his left.
But it was impossible to hold the boat to her
course with one hand, in such a sea ; and after a
minute Pauline took the dipper and intimated that
she would attend to that part of the work. She
bailed rapidly and steadily, and threw out a large
amount of water ; but the waves continued to rise
and overlap the gunwale, so that she was unable to
keep pace with the influx, and the boat settled so
low that ever and anon a wave would wash in to
leeward. This was a serious matter ; it meant
that swamping was not far off ; and with the extra
ballast on board she would go to the bottom like a
stone. And if she did, nothing was more certain
than that they would be drowned. It would be

160 A STRANGE WOOING.

impossible for even the strongest swimmer to reach
the shore on such a night.

Mrs. Nolen, after expressing, in the subdued
manner characteristic of her in all circumstances,
her horror and despair at the situation — the real
gravity of which she was, however, probably far
from recognizing — had relapsed into a sort of
lethargic state, half reclining on the narrow seat,
motionless, and seemingly unconscious of the
water that was dashing over her. This passive
attitude was doubtless the best for all concerned
that she could possibly have assumed. The judge
perhaps suffered more than any of the party ; for
he felt himself mainly responsible for the affair ;
and the idea of death stepping between him and
Pauline at such a juncture was almost more than
he could bear. Pauline, alone; was apparently
perfectly cheerful and composed. She even felt a
pleasant exhilaration in the face of the imminent
danger. The exertion of bailing had put her in a
warm glow from head to foot ; and though she
saw that her labor was ineffectual she maintained
it with unfaltering resolution. They were now
within a mile of the light-house, and as soon as
they passed under the lee of it they would be
comparatively safe. But it was a question whether
the boat would hold out so long, and just then an
unforeseen catastrophe occurred.

As Pauline stooped to fill the bailer, the little
vessel gave a sudden lurch to leeward, throwing
the girl forward on her knees in the bottom of the

A STRANGE WOOING. 161

boat. The judge reached out quickly to save her
from going overboard ; in doing so, the tiller was
thrust over ; the boat came directly before the
wind, the sail jibed, and the boom, as it swung to
starboard, struck the judge on the head, and
knocked him into the water. At the same moment
a wave came over the stern and deluged the seat-
room. The end seemed to be at hand.

But Pauline was not a woman to be vanquished
without a struggle. As she sprang up and seized
the tiller, her mind was perfectly clear as to what
should be done. The boat had already fallen off,
and was broadside to the wind ; she put down the
helm, and brought her up in the wind's eye, rapidly
hauling in the sheet as she did so, and giving it a
turn round the cleat. Then she bent her gaze on
the dark confusion of waters in which the judge
had sunk.

It was ten to one that he had been carried to
leeward and out of reach. But one circumstance,
of which Pauline was not aware, operated in her
favor. There was a strong tide running out against
the wind ; and when the judge rose his head
appeared within a foot of where Pauline sat. She
stretched over toward him, grasped him by the
sleeve of the coat, and drew him toward her.
Though half stunned by the blow he had received,
he managed to get his arm over the gunwale, and,
a wave coming to his assistance, he half scrambled,
half was thrown into the bottom of the boat.
Once there, his remaining strength forsook him,

1 62 A STRANGE WOOING.

and he lay unconscious. Pauline did not attempt
to relieve him ; she had her hands full of other
matters. The boat was almost in a sinking state,
and they were still more than half a mile from port.

She watched her chance needfully to come about,
for to ship another wave like the last one might be
fatal. The boat obeyed her helm promptly, and
set off with a plunge and a roll towards her destina-
tion. During the pause she had drifted some dis-
tance to leeward, so that she was now sailing with
the wind very nearly behind her and the boom far
out ; and although this involved some danger of
jibing again, it diminished the risk of taking in
water over the quarter, and was in so far an advan-
tage. Pauline's utmost strength was required to
hold the tiller, which struggled with her like a wild
creature fighting to get loose ; yet she was com-
pelled to keep one hand upon the sheet likewise,
which might at any moment need hauling in. The
strain upon her nerves and muscles was terrible,
but she clenched her teeth and held on ; in courage
and spirit, at least, she was equal to the occasion.
Once in a while she threw a hasty glance into the
body of the boat. Mrs. Nolen had slipped down
from her seat and had managed to draw the judge's
head and shoulders on her lap.

" If I save them," said Pauline to herself, " I will
accept it as a sign."

As she spoke the boat gave a leap and was sud-
denly in smooth water. The sail barely swelled to
the breeze. The change was so sudden that it

A STRANGE WOOING. 163

seemed miraculous. They had passed under the
lee of the lighthouse, but that appeared inadequate
to account for so abrupt and great an alteration.
Indeed, Pauline always believed and declared after-
wards that the gale had actually ceased, without
visible cause, in a moment of time. The boat
slipped sluggishly through the water on an even
keel. There was scarcely air enough to carry her
to her moorings in the little cove.

"Well, then, I will be his wife," said Pauline to
herself, as they touched the pier ; " and I think I
love him now ! "

CHAPTER XVII.

A HUNTER'S YARN.

ON a warm evening in October the steamship
Pilgrim, of the New York and Fall River line,
had just left her dock at the former place, and was
on her way up the Sound. A rather stout, but
actively made man, with curly red hair and side-
whiskers, and rather prominent gray eyes, mounted
the gangway from below, and stood near the door
of the saloon. He had just taken a cigar from his
waistcoat pocket, and was in the act of cutting off
the end of it with his penknife when a tall per-
sonage with bony features and a thin neck came in
through the door and confronted him. He was
about to pass on, but, at a second glance, stopped
and said, as if to himself,

" Henry Clifton."

The red-haired man turned sharply. " Bob
Stapleton, by jingo ! " he exclaimed.

They shook hands, evidently pleased at the
encounter, eyeing each other all over as if to make
sure that no part of either was missing.

" Well, and what have you been doing with your-
self these three years past ? " inquired he of the red
hair who answered to the name of Clifton, " Let's

A HUNTER'S YARN. 165

see ; it was in Liverpool I saw you last, wasn't it ?"
You were after that forging gang."

"Yes, and I got 'em," responded the other who
had been addressed as Bob Stapleton. " It was
a good job ; I've had nothing better since. But
what brings you over here ? "

" Oh, a private affair — something particularly
choice," replied Clifton, sticking his cigar in his
mouth. " All expenses paid and twenty pound a
month."

" Hullo ! That's not bad. A hundred dollars
and expenses. What is it ? Is Scotland Yard after
the Fenians again ? "

" No, no. I don't belong to the Yard any more ;
doing business now on my own feet. I'm engaged
on a case involving a hundred and fifty thousand
pounds — seven hundred and fifty thousand of your
money."

" Great Scott ! A robbery ? "

" No ; no such common business. A lost
heir ! "

«' A lost heir ? That sounds good ! Come,
we've got the evening before us ; suppose you spin
the yarn."

" Humph ! I'm not so sure about that," re-
turned Clifton, scratching his whiskers thought-
fully. " This isn't the sort of story that one tells
to every body. However," he added, " you're not
every body, though I suppose you consider your-
self somebody ; at all events, if you promise to keep
it dark, I fancy I can trust you. But let's go into

1 66 A HUNTER'S YARN.

some quiet corner — as it's a warm evening, sup-
pose we sit outside, where we can smoke. I have
cigars enough, and this yarn will probably last out
more than one of them."

As they passed out of the door, a gentleman
who had been sitting in a chair not far off, with his
hat drawn down over his nose, and who had seem-
ingly been asleep, rose quietly from his seat and
proceeded to the door of a state-room a little way
forward of the paddle-box. He entered the room
and locked the door after him ; then he breathed a
sigh of relief. He took off his hat, and looked at
his reflection in the mirror. It showed the coun-
tenance of a man between twenty and thirty years
of age — perhaps nearer the latter age than the
former — the lower part of which was thickly cov-
ered with a brown beard, cropped short at the
sides and round the throat, but allowed to grow to
a point on the chin. The forehead, cheeks, and
nose were deeply bronzed by the sun, giving a
peculiar appearance to a pair of handsome blue eyes.
The hair was cut short ; any one would have taken
the head for that of a Frenchman. This idea
would have been confirmed when the gentleman
put across his nose a pair of tinted eyeglasses,
mounted in gold. He regarded himself critically.

"Yes," he muttered, in the undertone which
people use when conversing with themselves, " it's
a good get-up, considering the simplicity of the
materials. No one can say I am disguising my-
self ; and yet I doubt if my own mother — God

A HUNTER'S YARN. 167

bless her ! — would recognize me at the first glance,
though my sister might. I must have been in-
tended by nature for an actor ; my features lend
themselves so readily to a disguise. At one time
I am an American ; then an Englishman ; now a
Frenchman ; to-morrow I may attempt a Turk or
a Russian. But what an extraordinary piece of
bad luck that that fellow Clifton should be on this
steamer ! Does he know that I am on board ?
Hardly. And yet, what is he here for ? It must
be on that same business ; and in that business I
am concerned, however unwillingly. Perhaps he
has come to look up my record. Confound him,
why can't he let me alone ! I shall have a hard
enough time of it without him. Of course he will
go straight to Inspector Byrnes, and when the
Inspector finds out that I am not — what's
that ? "

In order to answer this question, it must be
observed that the state-room occupied by the
bearded gentleman was an " outside " one ; its
window opened on the water, or rather on a narrow
strip of deck which intervened between the rail
and the wall of the state-room itself. This strip of
deck was just wide enough to admit of a person
sitting there, with his shoulders against the wall
and his feet on the rail — an attitude said to be a
favorite one with Americans, and which any per-
son who has studied the circulation of the blood
and its action on the brain will gladly put himself
into. The window, it should be added, was pro-

1 68 A HUNTER'S YARN.

tected by a wooden blind with fine slats, not notice*
able from without.

The noise which had caused the bearded gentle-
man to break off so abruptly in his monologue had
been caused by the advent of two persons with
camp-stools to the apparently secure retreat which
the narrow strip of deck already alluded to
afforded. Having established themselves there to
their satisfaction, and lit their cigars, they began to
talk in a low tone. But although the blind of the
bearded gentleman's state-room was shut, the win-
dow itself was open ; and as he had reason to sup-
pose that the conversation was going to be of par-
ticular importance to himself he took care to leave
the window as it was, and even to sit down beside
it. As the reader will already have surmised, the
speakers were the two gentlemen to whom we
have already been introduced — Henry Clifton and
Bob Stapleton.

" You went first to New Zealand, eh ? " Stapleton
was saying. " How happened your man — Valen-
tine, do you call him ? — to be there? "

" He was the second son, don't you see ? and
consequently, after he'd run through the money
his father gave him, he had only himself to fall back
on. So he started for New Zealand to make his
fortune at sheep-farming. When I got there he
had been gone the better part of a year or more.
The sheep-farming had not turned out very well,
but he had got a sum of money somehow, and had
gone off to enjoy it ; whether he would come back

A HUNTER'S YARN. 169

again, and where he had gone, no one could tell
me. You may be sure that if he had known that
his elder brother was going to die, and let him into
full possession of an estate worth three-quarters of
a million of dollars, he would have left his ad-
dress."

" It's a most curious thing," observed Mr. Staple-
ton, philosophically, " how some men will run
after a good thing all their lives and never catch it,
and another man will run away from a good thing
all his life, and never let it catch him."

" Well, as I was saying," Mr. Clifton continued,
this Mr. Valentine — as I call him — had left for
parts unknown, and my business was to find out
where that was. I thought it all over, and made up
my mind that America was about the most likely
place, for he wouldn't be likely to go back to Eng-
land, and, being of a roving disposition, and never
having visited the States, that was naturally the
first place he'd think of. And when a man goes to
America he's pretty certain sooner or later to fetch
up in New York. So it was in New York that I
figured I should find him. But before I started I
thought it would be as well to make the thing
certain by sending on a cable message, addressed
to certain parties in New York that you may have
heard of, asking whether my man was there.
Sending telegrams half round the earth costs money,
Bob ; but it doesn't cost quite as much as to go
yourself, let alone the time and the wear and tear."

" However, expenses being paid — " said Bob.

1 70 A HUNTER'S YARN

" That's all very well ; but parties employing one
like to have a good account of their money ; and a
good recommendation is sometimes worth more
than cash in hand. Well, I didn't look for an
answer inside of a week or ten days ; but forty-
eight hours after I had sent off the despatch the
landlord of my hotel came up to me and told me
that he believed I was looking for Mr. Valentine,
and that a man had just arrived from Panama who
had met a party going by that name in Mexico some
six weeks before, and he thought likely he'd be
there yet. I told him to bring the man around, and
he came and I had a talk with him.

" He had seen Valentine, sure enough ; I made
up my mind as to that. He described him as
near as could be ; for though I had never seen him
myself I had all the points about him from those
who had, and a photograph taken four or five years
before. The fellow said that Valentine had come
to Mexico from New York, after being wrecked in a
big gale at St. Thomas, and a friend of his — I'll call
him Percy — was drowned in the same storm."

" You call him Percy, do you ? " interposed Mr.
Stapleton, " and he was drowned in the St. Thomas
hurricane ? And what might his other name
be?"

" I'm not giving names ; I'm telling you a story,"
returned Mr. Clifton curtly.

"That's all right: something occurred to my
mind, that's all ; and a mighty good story it is
you're telling," rejoined the other affably. " So

A HUNTER'S YARN. ijl

Mr. Valentine went over to Mexico, did he ? And
what did he do there ? "

" Well, he'd brought some letters, so it seems,
introducing him to the President and some other
swells ; and he handed 'em in, and was received in
good style. He gave 'em to understand that he'd
come to settle, and to grow up with the country,
so to speak. One thing led to another, and at last
they got talking about mines ; and with that the
President gave him a guide, and sent him off up
to a place called Pachuca, about sixty or seventy
miles north of the city. He moused about there —
he knew something of mining, it appears — and
examined the mines that were working, and some
others that had been given up : and at last he
fixed on a bit of ground where there wasn't any
mine at all ; but he took a fancy to it for all that,
and went back to Mexico to see about getting pos-
session of it. He managed things very cleverly,
and got the swells interested, and made out that he
wanted to let them into a good thing, and would
be satisfied with a very small share himself, and
would take all the trouble of looking after the
business off their hands into the bargain. So what
did he do but raise a company, and the company
raised a capital — you know how those things are
worked — and they filed their claim to the land, and
appointed him manager, and the first tests he
made showed a bigger percentage of silver than
had been known in that neighborhood for a hun-
dred years. That was the news my informant

172 A HUNTER'S YARN.

brought me ; he said all Mexico was talking of it ;
and that Mr. Valentine's pickings, though they
might be small, comparatively speaking, were likely
to stand him in a cool hundred thousand dollars a
year, which is enough to keep a man off the parish."

" Yes, I should think it might," Mr. Stapleton
assented. " And that's the way it is in this world,
Henry Clifton ; luck goes dead against a man for
years and years, and no let up ; and then, all of a
sudden, for no reason that ever any body can find
out, his brother dies and leaves him a million in
England, and he goes to Mexico and collars a mine
worth a hundred thousand a year. The million
ain't enough, and the mine ain't enough ; he must
have 'em both ; that's the way of the world every
time ! "

Mr. Clifton accepted this statement without
comment, and went on with his story.

" As you may suppose, I lost no time in packing
my grip for Mexico, and I got there in due season-,
and without accident. I put up at the best hotel,
as is always my way, for it costs no more in the end
and gives a man a good standing at the first send-
off. I made my inquiries, in a quiet, off-hand
way ; and I had no difficulty at all in hearing all I
wanted. Mr. Valentine was there ; nobody could
speak too well of him ; he was hand-in-glove with
the President, and he was at that moment out in
Pachuca, superintending the putting up of the
new machinery in the new mine. If I had any busi-
ness with him, that was where I would find him.

A HUNTER'S YARN. 173

So the next morning, at six o'clock, I took the train
at Buena Vista station to Omeltusco, and then by
diligence and horse-car to Pachuca, which I reached
at sundown, dead tired, and chock full of dust,
and a precious cold, disagreeable, shabby hole
Pachuca is, and I don't care who knows it !

" But I was on business, and when I learned that
Mr. Valentine was camping out about five miles
above I hired a mule then and there, and a black
fellow to show me the way ; and by nightfall I
had him ! "

CHAPTER XVIII.

A DILEMMA.

u \ ND so you handed him over the deeds of his
lY estate, and that's the end of the story?"
said Mr. Stapleton interrogatively.

"You're going a bit too fast," the other replied.
" The story is just going to begin ; what I've told
you is merely by way of explaining the situation.
After chasing a man half round the world, and a
little more, you don't expect to get through your
business with him in five minutes. When I first saw
him he was smoking a cigar by a fire that was built
outside of one of them adobe huts, and drinking a
stuff they call pulque, which is the nearest they can
get to whiskey in that country, and pretty poor
stuff it is. Well, I stepped up to him and says I,
' Good evening, Mr. — -' (giving him his name
you understand) ' for I am told that you are that
gentleman.' He looked up at me, and I said to
myself that I had made no mistake. He had on a
Mexican scrape and a wide-brimmed hat ; but his
figure and face answered well enough to my de-
scription of him, though instead of side-whiskers
he had a mustache and a chin-beard, as if he meant
to be a Mexican through and through.

A DILEMMA. 175

" * Yes,' says he, looking up at me ; ' and have
you any business with me ? '

" ' Well,' says I, ' I think I may say I have, since
I've come some fifteen thousand miles to find you.'
He stopped a bit and then said, * From England,
Oh?' 'You are right, sir,' said I : 'but before I
go further, and to be sure there's no mistake, I
must ask you to be kind enough to give me an
account of yourself — your family and so forth — so
that I may know you are the man I'm sent to see,
and no other.' ' And what if I refuse ? ' said he.
' Then,' said I, ' all I'll have to do is to go back
where I came from ; though I may tell you that if
you are the gentleman in question it will be your
loss, and a big loss too, not to let me know it.'

" * As to that,' he says, ' I don't know that you can
give me any thing I care to have, whatever you
may have brought ; but if you want to know my
history I always carry my papers about with me,
and I've no objection to your looking them over.'
And with that he took a wallet out of his
pocket, and handed it to me. I opened it and
examined the papers one after the other. 'They
seem all right, sir,' I said, 'and I suppose I may
as well take it that every thing is correct and reg-
ular ; ' so then I went on and told him what had
happened, how his brother was dead, and he the
heir of the property. He heard it all with a sort
of strange look on his face ; and when I got through
at first he said nothing at all. He got up and took
a turn up and down, smoking his cigar ; but at

1 76 A DILEMMA.

last he comes back, and says he, " Who's the next
heir after me ? "

" I didn't see just what that had to do with it ;
but I said I supposed it would be his cousin or
whatever relative was nearest his own blood.
'Well,' says he, chucking away his cigar, ' who-
ever he is, he may have it. I'm very well satisfied
as I am, and I won't have any thing to do with it.'
Those were his very words, and you may suppose
I was a bit surprised. 'You won't have any thing
to do with a hundred and fifty thousand pounds ? '
says I. ' Not with that hundred and fifty thousand,
at any rate,' said he. 'But what are you going to
do about it ? ' says I ; ' the property is yours, and
it's entailed, and you can't get rid of it.' ' Oh
don't trouble yourself about that,' said he, with a
laugh. " It won't be buried in the ground. And
if the worst comes to the worst, how do you know
that I am the right man after all ? I have got the
papers, and I am called by that name ; but you
yourself said that you never saw me before ; and
you could not swear that I am not somebody else.
I should have to go to England, in any case, to
prove my identity. But I prefer to stay here ; and
that's the end of it ! '

" It was the queerest case ever I heard of, and
I didn't know what to make of it. I sat there and
talked and argued with him for an hour and more,
but nothing I could say made a bit of difference.
He wouldn't have the property at any price, and
he didn't care what came of it. I gave it over, at

A DILEMMA. 177

last, for the time being, and passed the night in
the hut ; the next morning I tried him again, but
he was as obstinate as ever. Well, I didn't believe
yet that he meant all he said, so I made up my
mind to give him a bit more rope. I told him I
was going to stay in Mexico a week or two, and
let him understand that if he wanted to change his
mind, he'd have an opportunity ; and then I said
good-day and rode off. I went back to Mexico,
and put up at the hotel, and thought it all over ;
but the more I thought about it the less I could
make it out. If he was the right man (and every
thing about him showed he was) it didn't seem in
human nature to refuse the property ; and if he
was an impostor, who had somehow managed to
get hold of the right man's papers, and to person-
ate him — why, then, what on earth could his object
be if not to get the property ? If any thing, that
would be the strangest case of the two.

" I had been back from Pachuca just a week
when I was told that there was a lady in the house
— an English lady — that wanted to see me. Thinks
I, ' Now, what does this mean ? ' I brushed myself
up a bit and went down to find out. She was sit-
ting at a table in the patio, with a cup of tea in
front of her. She was a good-looking woman, and
as I judged might be something under thirty years
old.

" I made my bow, and she asked me to be seated.
After a little talk, says she, ' I hear you have been
inquiring after Mr, Valentine ' — giving his full

178 A DILEMMA.

name, you understand. I told her that I had.
' Did you find him ? ' asked she, l I did,' said I.
She seemed a bit excited or anxious, and I began
to have my own ideas ; but I wasn't prepared for
what she said next. ' I wish you to know that I
am his wife,' she said, * and whatever is his business
is mine also.' ' I am bound to inform you, madam,'
I said at last, * that his family has no knowledge of
his marriage ; they believe him to be a bachelor.'
' I am aware of that,' said she, ' but fortunately I
am in a position to prove what I say'; and with
that she took her marriage certificate out of her
pocket and showed it to me ; it was as regular as
the multiplication table ; she was married to him
three or four years ago, in New Zealand. I hadn't
a word to say. ' I understand he has come into his
property,' said she. * Well, as to that, madam/
said I. ' So he has ; but he has refused point-
blank to have any thing to do with it.' She turned
white and looked at me very sharp. ' What do
you mean ? ' she cried out. * Just what I tell you,'
said I ; and then I went on and gave her the story
of my visit to him.

" Well, that seemed to floor her, at first ; she kept
making exclamations, and saying things half to her-
self, and biting her lips ; it was plain she didn't
know what to make of it any more than I did. ' I
must see him ! ' she cried out at last, jumping up
from the table ; ' I must see him, and— ' Speak of
an angel, madam,' says I ; ' here he is ! ' and sure
enough, by the funniest chance in the world, in

A DILEMMA. J79

walked Mr. Valentine into the patio at that moment.
I don't think he was overpleased at the meeting ;
but it was too late to get out of it, so he came up ;
and I noticed he only glanced at the lady, as if she
was some one he had never seen before ; then he
gave me good-day, and took my hand. It was a
bit awkward ; I said, * I suppose you will wish to
converse with your wife alone, sir ; I will leave
you.' * My wife !' says he ; 'I was not aware
there was such a person ! ' 'Is not this lady your
wife ? ' cried I. He stared at her like a man
astonished, and then at me. ' I never saw her till
this moment,' said he. ' Come, sir,' said I, * I have
just seen the certificate of her marriage with you.'
' Oh, it is all a mistake,' put in the lady. ' I was
never married to this gentleman ; I never saw him;
I am the wife of Mr. Valentine.' ' Well, and this
gentleman is Mr. Valentine,' said I. * He may
have the same name, but he is another person
altogether,' said she. * As to that,' said I, * you
must settle it between you ; Mr. Valentine's papers
are all correct, and there is only one estate in
England with the name that his bears. * But I
have proved,' cried the lady, ' that I am the wife of
the heir of that estate ; and if this gentleman says
he is the heir, I denounce him as an impostor ! "

" At that, I looked at Mr. Valentine. He had
kept his eyes on the lady all the while, with a sort
of perplexed expression ; but now he smiled very
quietly, and said he, ' I think I have heard of this
lady before. I wish to say nothing against her.

l8o A DILEMMA.

She seems to be in a dilemma from which there
is no way of extricating her. If she wishes to lay
a claim to the estates, she can do so only by
acknowledging me as her huband. But you have
just heard us both declare that we have never seen
each other before. But she also declares me an
imposter. Suppose I am ; she must find the real
man before she can profit by the inheritance. If I
am not he, where is he ? Grant, on the other hand,
that I am he, and this lady is my wife; I still decline
to touch a penny of the hundred and fifty thousand
pounds ; and what I will not accept she cannot
share. That is logic and law both, I believe ?'"

" Upon my word, Henry Clifton," ejaculated
Mr. Bob Stapleton at this juncture, " this is about
as peculiar a yarn as ever I listened to! It's as
good as a play, and better too. When you get to
New York, do you go straight to a manager and
offer to sell it to him ; and if he don't give you a
good price for it I'm a Dutchman ! "

" Good or bad," returned Mr. Clifton, " it hap-
pened just as I tell it you. When Mr. Valentine
said that, the lady seemed staggered for a moment;
and then all at once she called out, * I see how it
is! You two have arranged this thing between you !
You are in a conspiracy to cheat me ! You have
plotted to get hold of this property and share it
between you, and keep me out ! But I will have
my rights in spite of you ! I will denounce both
of you to the authorities. For all I know, you may
have murdered my husband, and taken his papers

A DILEMMA. ii

But you will not succeed; I will expose you, and
you shall be punished ! '

" Well, that made me a little angry, and I told
her that if she wanted to charge me with conspir-
acy she had better set about it at once, and the
sooner the better, for I knew who would get the
worst of it. As for Mr. Valentine, he didn't lose
his temper, but he said very quietly, * I am not a
murderer, madam, and you will only waste your
time in trying to prove me such. But I can assure
you that, if I am not your husband — and I cer-
tainly am not — no such person exists in the world.
Neither can you sustain the charge that I am aim-
ing— either in combination with Mr. Clifton, or
alone — to keep you out of this property. I told
him a week ago, before you arrived in Mexico,
that I would have nothing to do with it ; and to
that determination I shall adhere. The utmost
you can attempt to do is to show that I am not
Mr. Valentine ; and that you are welcome to at-
tempt. But I warn you beforehand that all the
evidence is on my side, and that you will fail. I
advise you to go back whence you came, and to
give up any idea of ever becoming a great English
lady. Meanwhile, I have the honor to wish you
good morning ! '

" He bowed to her as polite and cool as you
please, and walked out of the patio and I fol-
lowed him. * What in the name of wonder does all
this mean ? ' I asked him.

" ' Really, Mr. Clifton,' said he, ' I can give you

1 82 A DILEMMA.

no explanation. You have heard the whole con-
versation, and you must draw your own conclusions
from it, as I do mine. If you believe that that
lady is the wife, or the widow, of the Mr. Valentine
who has inherited the estate, you are at liberty to
act in accordance with your conviction. The most
difficult thing will probably be to make other
people believe as you do.'

" < That's all right, Mr. Valentine,' said I, * but
there is one thing you can tell me. You said just
now that you had heard speak of that lady before,
and the inference was that what you had heard
was not to her credit. Now what did you mean by
that ? '

" * Well, Mr. Clifton,' said he, ' perhaps I may
have heard of her before, or perhaps I may be mis-
taken in thinking I had ; but I don't see why the
inference to be drawn is necessarily a bad one. At
all events, she has never done me any harm, and I
don't believe she ever will, or can ; and I have no
present intention of harming her, either by word
or deed. As I said before, you must follow your
own judgment ; as for me, what I have said I
stick to, and nothing will change me.' By that
time we had got to the door of the office of the
Secretary of the Interior, who was a friend of his,
and he went in and left me in the street, to do my
own thinking."

"Well, and what was the upshot of it all?" in-
quired Mr. Stapleton.

" It isn't ended yet," Mr. Clifton replied ; " but

A DILEMMA. 183

from facts that subsequently came to my knowl-
edge I came to the conclusion that I might learn
something by coming on to New York. I don't
mind telling you that I have formed a theory about
the case, and I think I have a clue ; but what the
clue and the theory are it would, of course, be pre-
mature to state. I expect to be in the city for a
month or so, and if, as is probable, I run across
you again, why, there may be something new to
say. But that's all for to-night."

" Now that I think of it, it's growing a little
chilly, too," rejoined Mr. Stapleton, " and as the
Governor of South Carolina once remarked to the
Governor of North Carolina, ( it's a long time be-
tween drinks.' I have some acquaintance with the
head steward on board this boat ; suppose we go
down-stairs ?"

Apparently Mr. Clifton accepted this suggestion ;
for when, a few minutes later, the bearded gentle-
man pushed open his blind, the two camp-stools
were vacant.

CHAPTER XIX.

IN A CARRIAGE.

JUDGE KETELLE and his young wife took
up their abode in a house not far from the
southern boundary of Central Park, taking Mrs.
Nolen to live with them. The wedding aroused
considerable interest in New York city, the beauty
and accomplishments of the bride being almost as
well known as the forensic and judicial ability of
her husband. The newly married couple did not
entertain, however, owing to the recent domestic
misfortunes which had overtaken Mrs. Ketelle's
family ; they received a few friends very quietly
and informally, and made scarcely any calls. The
judge had not been on the bench for some years
previous to his marriage ; but he had a large and
important practice as a barrister, and he now
devoted himself to this with more assiduity than
ever. Report had it that he and his wife were
very happy together, and though some people
admired the judge's intrepidity in venturing to ap-
propriate a lady so beautiful and so much his
junior, there was nothing in their relations to indi-
cate that his choice had not been as prudent as it
certainly was enviable.

IN A CARRIAGE. 185

The wedding had taken place about the first of
October^ on the return of the Nolens and Judge
Ketelle from the seaside ; and after a short honey-
moon they settled in their new dwelling early in
November. The judge attended to business down
town every day ; his wife spent her mornings at
home, and in the afternoons was fond of driving
out in the park in her brougham, occasionally ac-
companied by her mother, but more often alone.
The weather was cold but very fine, and the hue
of the autumn leaves was unusually beautiful.
But those who happened to see the face of the
young wife at the window of her brougham forgot
all about the autumnal foliage and had their
thoughts filled with the memory of another kind of
loveliness.

One afternoon, while passing the children's
play-ground, Mrs. Ketelle caused the coachman to
stop his horses, in order that she might watch the
little creatures at their games ; for nothing pleased
her more than the spectacle of children having a
good time. After remaining a few minutes, she
was about to give the order to move on, when her
attention was attracted to a gentleman who was
standing with his back partly turned towards her
in a foot-path that here approached the car-
riage-way. He was tall and well made ; he wore
a thin cape ulster of dark tweed, and a black felt
hat with a curved brim — a sort of fashionable
modification of the picturesque Tyrolese head-
gear. Of his face she could see only the outline

1 86 IN A CARRIAGE.

of the cheek and brow ; he had a mustache, and
a short, closely cut beard.

Why was it that the sight of this man produced
so strange and powerful an impression upon her ?
She asked herself this question, but could give it
no satisfactory answer. Surely he was not an ac-
quaintance of hers ! And yet there was some-
thing about him that not only arrested her gaze?
but sent a thrill to her heart, as if particles
of ice and fire were being driven through it. Her
hands became cold and her teeth chattered, and
yet her cheeks were burning, and drops stood on
her forehead.

The gentleman turned slowly to resume his
walk. As his face came more fully into view, Mrs.
Ketelle caught her breath with a sharp sound, and
her fingers grasped the frame of the door convul-
sively. "She could not cry out ; her lips were
parched and her tongue was dry. But her whole
soul went out to him through her eyes. Was it a
dream ? Was he a phantom ? Could she be de-
ceived by some marvellous resemblance ? Oh,
would he pass on without seeing her, and vanish
forever !

He had, in fact, walked on several paces, and in
another minute he would he out of reach. But
either accident or one of those mysterious mental
impressions which many persons have experienced
in some epoch of their lives caused him suddenly
to pause, turn about, and look directly at the face
in the carriage window. Their eyes met for a

IN A CARRIAGE. 187

moment ; then the woman covered her face with
her hands, and sank back in her seat with a breath-
less cry of terror, bewilderment, and intolerable
joy.

The gentleman, who also seemed pale and agi-
tated, came over to the road and laid his hand on
the carriage door. " Drive on ! " he said to the
coachman, and with the words he entered the car-
riage and closed the door after him. Then he
pulled down the shades over the windows. The
coachman spoke to his horses, and they moved on.
. This episode had taken place in a short space of
time,and with very little visible manifestation of feel-
ing on either side. Nevertheless, it had not entirely
escaped observation. Two men had been saunter-
ing along the path side by side, apparently whiling
away the hour or two that separated them from
dinner. One of them was a tall, slender, graceful
fellow, with sharp but well-molded features, black
hair and moustache, and a pair of restless black
eyes. He was dressed quietly, in dark colors, and
yet there was a certain jauntiness in his appearance
that suggested the sporting man or the sharper.
His companion was a considerably older man, and
his face was of a much coarser cast ; his clothes
were new, but fitted him ill, and he wore a flashy
necktie and watch-chain. His small gray eyes had
noted the little occurrence above described, and as
the carriage rolled away he nudged his friend
with his elbow.

" Well, what now ?" said the latter.

1 88 IN A CARRIAGE.

" Drd you see that ? "

"What?"

" Well, your wits are wool-gathering, it seems.
Did you see that fellow get into that carriage ? "

" What carriage ? "

" That carriage that was standing here just now
with the lady in it. Why, what's got into you,
Horrie ? Don't you know who she was ? "

" No I don't. How should I ? "

" Well, you might find it money in your pocket
some day, that's all. Swell women like that don't
drive out alone in the Park for nothing, I reckon !
And may be, rather than have their husbands
know what they're after, they might see their way
to paying an obliging person a consideration to
keep his mouth shut."

" Oh, stuff ! That business is played out. The
swells are on to it, and the first word that's said
they ring the bell for the police. I don't want any
of that in mine, thank you ! And if you want any
one to believe you know all the ladies that drive in
the Park in their own broughans, you must find
some greener hand than I am."

"I know who she was, just the same," retorted
the other. " She's the girl that married that fellow
Ketelle, a month ago."

" She ? — the sister of that — " he stopped.

" The sister of Jerrold Nolen ! You remember
him, if I ain't mistaken," said the short man, with
a chuckle.

" Yes, I remember him ; and when the accounts

IN A CARRIAGE. 189

are evened up I'll remember you too, Jack Grush,
and don't you forget it ! " exclaimed the black-
haired man, with a sullen fierceness. The fellow
he had called Grush laughed but made no reply.
" So that was his sister, was it ? " the other went
on, muttering to himself ; " and she's married to
the judge a month ago, and taking fellows to drive
in her brougham ! " He twisted the ends of his
moustache, and switched the toe of his boot, as he
sauntered along, with the light cane he carried.

Let us follow Mrs. Ketelle's carriage.

After the first few minutes of speechless and
wild emotion were passed, Pauline relinquished
her brother's hand, and shrank away from him to
her side of the carriage. A reaction of feeling had
come over her. She felt a sort of indignation that
she should have been all these months grieving for
a calamity that had never happened.

" Why did you never let us know that you were
alive ? " she demanded.

" I put it off from day to day," he said. " I had
not decided, at first, what to do. I thought of
coming home ; then I thought, that since I had
been reported dead it was better to let it be
believed so for a time, until the truth about the
robbery should be discovered. Besides, I knew
that detectives would be after me, and I feared that
a letter addressed to you or to the judge might
betray me. At last when I found something to do
I decided to wait until I was certain of success
before communicating with you. And finally, cir-

190 IN A CARRIAGE.

cumstances led to my coming back here unexpect-
edly, myself."

" But Valentine might have written, if you could
not."

" Valentine ! Why, Pauline, don't you know —
don't you see — it was Valentine who was drowned ! "

" Valentine ! Oh, God forgive me ! how I have
wronged him ! " she turned aside and rested her
face against the side of the carriage, and sobbed
for a few moments passionately. But she was never
one to be long mastered by emotion. She forced
back her tears, and said, " Tell me ! tell me all ! "

" The whole affair came about by an accident,
without any prearrangement at all. When I went
down to the pier of the steamship, Val had sug-
gested my making one or two alterations in my
dress and appearance, so that if any one were on
the lookout for me I should pass for Valentine.
Afterwards, on the steamer, we found that people
were giving us each other's names, and we let it
be so. We occupied the same state-room, and I
used his things — I had brought very little of my
own with me. On the voyage he told me all his
private history : I afterwards thought that if he
had been consciously training me to personate him,
he could not have done it more effectually. Then
came the day of the hurricane. We were close
together all the time until within a few minutes of
the time the wind changed. We were in the cabin ;
there was a lantern burning, but it was almost quite
dark. Val left me and went to our room, I could

IN A CARRIAGE. 191

see him there ; he seemed to be writing on some-
thing that he held up before him. Afterwards he
went towards the steward's room, holding on by
the iron pillars of the cabin as he went. That was
the last I saw of him. He must have gone on deck
— for what, I can't imagine — and been swept over-
board. No one knew any thing of it until the next
morning."

" Now I know — now I know ! " murmured Pauline,
pressing her hands over her heart. "It was he —
he did not forget — I might have^ known it ! "

" What might you have known ? " asked her
brother.

" Nothing ; go on. When you found that he
was dead, what then ? "

" We had agreed, before, to go to Mexico. He
had letters and papers. I took them, and went,
travelling as Valentine Martin. I saw that in that
way I should get a standing in the place which I
could not have obtained for myself, and that the
report of my death would throw off the police. I
was cordially received in Mexico, and put in the
way of doing some valuable business. Every thing
prospered with me, as it had never done before.
The story is too long to tell fully now ; but in the
midst of my success an extraordinary thing occurred ;
an English agent of the Martin estate came
over and told me — supposing me to be Valentine
— that by my brother's death I was the heir. I did
not wish to enter into explanations, so I simply
told him that I did not want the estate, and that it

192 IN A CARRIAGE.

might go to the next of kin. I had forgotten that
Val had a wife, though, of course, I knew all about
her. She had ruined his life in more ways than
one, and was no better than she should be ; but if
his death were known she would be entitled to a
share of the estate. It seems she had got wind of
the English agent's business, and had followed him
from New Zealand. I had a curious interview with
her ; she charged me finally with having made
away with her husband in order, by personating
him, to get his property, and treated my assertion
that I was not going to touch the property as mere
buncombe. But the next day I got a letter
from her in which she actually offered, in case I
would make common cause with her, to go to
England, prove her marriage to Valentine, get the
estate, and then divide with me !"

" Poor Valentine ! " murmured Pauline, with a
trembling lip.

" When I refused, she declared war, and said she
would expose me as an impostor and probable
murderer. She learned that I was manager and
part owner of a valuable mine that I had discovered
near Pachuca. The other owners were two high
officers of the government. She went to them
with her story. They told me what she had said.
I had already made up my mind what to do ; I
gave them the whole history of what had happened
since Valentine and I had left New York ; I told
them what he had told me about his wife ; and
then I showed them the letter she had just written

IN A CARRIAGE. 193

me. I knew I was risking every thing in making a
clean breast of it ; but the fact was I was tired of
living under a name that did not belong to me,
and I wanted to put an end to it at all hazards."

" I am glad of that ! " said Pauline.

" They were rather upset by the story, and for a
while I thought the affair would go against me.
But I suspect they considered me too useful a man
to lose ; I was making a great deal of money for
them, and doing all the work ; and then the
woman's letter tipped the beam. They said,
finally, that they would accept me for what I was,
if I could give them satisfactory proof that I was
what I declared myself to be. Let me show letters
or vouchers from reputable persons in New York,
bearing out my account of myself, and they would
accept me as a full equivalent for what I had pre-
tended to be. I had a power of attorney that Val
had given me on the steamer, but of course I could
not tell them what had led to my leaving New York ;
I could not ask any one here for a certificate of good
character until my name has been cleared of the
charge against it. But it wouldn't do to hesitate; so
I said, on the spur of the moment, that I would go
to New York, get the evidence they required, and
return to them with it. So here I am ; but I over-
heard some conversation, coming down on the boat,
between the English agent and a New York detec-
tive, which made it seem probable that my affairs
will be investigated whether I like it or not, and
that meanwhile the true story of how the robbery

194 IN A CARRIAGE.

was committed has not been revealed yet. How
is.it?"

The answer to this question led to a long con-
versation, in the course of which Percy learned all
that had happened during his absence, including
Pauline's marriage. The search for the thief for
whose crime he had suffered had as yet met with
no success ; but it was still being carried on.
After discussing the matter, it v/as decided that
Percy's presence in the city should, for the moment,
be kept a secret from every one, even from his
mother and Judge Ketelle. He should conceal
himself in lodgings in the upper part of the town,
where Pauline could visit him from time to time,
and report the progress of affairs, and learn, if
possible, from Inspector Byrnes, what were the
object and result of the English agent Clifton's
mission to New York. There might be difficulties
in the way ; but the brother and sister were young,
and believed that the longest lane has a turning.

It was late when Pauline drove up to the door of
her house, and, alighting, walked up the steps of
the porch. Her mind was full of her brother ; and
she did not notice the tall man with the black
moustache who stood on the corner of the street,
tapping his troot with his cane.

CHAPTER XX.

A CHECK.

HAVING seen the lady into the house, the man
with the black mustachios turned en his heel
and sauntered away.

Black Horace (as he was known to his intimates)
was not born to a criminal career, and his present
position and character were the result partly of
innate evil and partly of circumstances. He had
received an excellent education and had graduated
from the New York Medical School in good stand-
ing. Up to that time, beyond a tendency to loose
company and irregular habits, he had developed
no noticeably bad tendencies. The chances were
that he would outgrow his youthful follies and
become'a useful member of society.

Almost immediately upon his graduation, how-
ever, his destiny took a sinister turn. At a parting
supper with his comrades he got into a quarrel with
one of them, ending in a scuffle in which blows
were exchanged. The quarrel was patched up
and the two antagonists shook hands and drank
together, but Horace secretly bore a grudge and
was determined to " get even," At the end of the

I96 A CHECK.

evening, his late antagonist being somewhat the
worse for liquor, Horace volunteered to see him
home. They walked off together, Horace revolving
in his mind the scheme of some practical joke.

That night Horace's companion was found insen-
sible on his doorstep with the mark of a blow from
a slung-shot behind his ear. He never entirely
recovered consciousness, and died the next day
after uttering the name of Horace Dupee.

Horace was arrested on a charge of murder, and
in default of bail was thrown into prison. After a
long series of delays, extending over a year, he was
brought to trial and acquitted. The evidence,
though amounting to a strong probability, was not
conclusive, and the jury gave him the benefit of the
doubt. He went forth nominally a free man, but
his social and professional career were blasted ere
they had fairly begun. The shadow of the mark
of Cain, if not the mark itself, was upon him.

He might have changed his name and achieved
success in another country. But half from sullen
obstinacy, half from lack of business energy, he
did not do this. Instead, he drifted into bad
society and soon found himself in harmony with it.
The class of society in which he had formerly
moved ceased to know him. The police began to
take an interest in him, but he was shrewd and
cautious enough to avoid falling into their hands.
Some of his escapes were very narrow, but up to
the present time his photograph had not appeared
in the Rogue's Gallery. In such a case, however,

A CHECK. 197

detection is certain to come sooner or later. Some
oversight is committed, some " pal " turns State's
evidence, or some fatality occurs.

Since the time of his downfall Horace Dupee had
wandered from place to place and lived in most
States of the Union. But again and again he
returned to New York, though he knew that he ran
greater risks there than elsewhere. At the time we
come up with him he had been absent from the
city for nearly a year. It was on the day after his
arrival that his companion, Grush, had called his
attention to Mrs. Retelle.

She was the sister of the man of whose murder
he had been accused. This fact was sufficient to
inspire him with animosity against her. He had
never seen her before. The only member of the
family with whom he had ever come in personal
contact was Jerrold Nolen. But he owed them
all a grudge. If it had not been for them he might
have had a successful career. He was prepared,
therefore, to do her whatever ill-turn came in his
way. It was an additional motive that the ill-turn
to her could be made of advantage to himself.
Grush had suggested this, and though he had
turned aside the suggestion, he considered it none
the less. There was no need of letting Grush into
the affair. In secret councils was safety. Besides
Grush had no claims upon him — quite the contrary ;
he, too, was associated with whatever was disastrous
in his life. He made up his mind to carry out his
purpose without saying any thing to Grush about it.

198 A CHECK.

Several days passed. One afternoon Mrs. Ketelle
left her house and took a Fourth Avenue car up-
town. She left it in the neighborhood of Harlem,
walked across town a couple of blocks, and entered
the door of a small flat that formed part of an un-
finished block on a side street. She remained there
for upwards of an hour. Twilight was beginning
to fall when she came out.

She had not walked far when she heard a step
behind her, and a voice said, " Good evening, Mrs.
Ketelle. How is the judge to-day ? "

She turned, and saw at her side a well-dressed
man of dark complexion, who fixed his eyes upon
her in a manner she did not like. But his knowl-
edge of her name and of her husband led her to
suppose that she must have met him somewhere
and forgotten him. " You must excuse me, sir,"
she said, " but you have the advantage of me."

" Indeed, I believe you are right," he answered,
with a short laugh. " The advantage is all on my
side. But tell me, Mrs. Ketelle, how does married
life suit you ? Does the judge come up to your ex-
pectations ? For my part, I should think twice
before marrying a woman so much younger than
myself. By the time you are coming into full
bloom the judge will be in the sere and yellow
leaf. But I suppose you know how to manage
him. He hasn't betrayed any symptoms of the
green-eyed monster yet, has he ? "

This speech produced such astonishment in
Pauline that she could not find words to interrupt

A CHECK. 199

it. But when the speaker paused she stood still
and looked him curiously in the face.

" You don't seem to be intoxicated," she said at
length. " You may be crazy. Whatever you are,
I advise you to go. I do not want you."

" No, I suppose not," he replied, returning her
glance insolently. " I am not the lucky man. The •
judge has no cause to be jealous of me. But, on
the other hand, I may be of some use to him. Of
course, it will be a pity to spoil your little game.
You have managed it all so nicely, even to provid-
ing him with lodgings ; and he is such a fine look-
ing young fellow, and it is all so lovely and
romantic. But, you see, I have a high regard for
the judge, and I can't bear to see him made a fool
of. These billings and cooings in the park, and
assignations in flats — they must be stopped.
Society won't stand it. And the best way to stop
it that I can think of is to tell Judge Ketelle."

Pauline listened to all this attentively, at first
with a dreadful fear that this unknown man had
become acquainted with the fact that her brother
had returned to New York. But as he went on
she perceived that he supposed Percy to be her
lover ; and then his object became clear. A deep
blush overspread her face. That she should be
thought capable, even by a wretch who did not
know her, of an illicit intrigue, filled her with hor-
ror and anger. But underneath this feeling there
was another and a more powerful one. It was a
feeling of relief and joy that her brother was safe,

200 A CHECK.

at least that she could save him by the sacrifice
(so far as this man was concerned) of her reputa-
tion as a pure woman. By letting him continue to
suppose that it was an ordinary intrigue in which
she was engaged, and paying him for his silence —
for she divined that it was for that purpose he had
accosted her — she could keep Percy's secret until
the time arrived when it might safely be divulged.
The sacrifice was perhaps as arduous a one as an
honest woman could be called upon to make ; but
there was no hesitation in her mind as to whether
or not she should make it.

" I have heard that there were such persons as
you, but I never saw one before," she said. " You
are a blackmailer, are you not? "

There was something in her tone that touched
a sore spot in him, callous and degraded though he
had become. To see her beautiful face and angry
eyes gazing straight into his, and to feel that her
contempt for him was far too great for her to make
any attempt to express it in words, was an experi-
ence that even he found trying. He remembered,
with a pang of hopeless rage, that he might have
so lived as to have the right to meet this lovely
woman on terms of social equality, and to win her
respect and perhaps her regard. As it was, it was
impossible for one human being to despise another
more than she despised him. And yet, what right
had she to despise him if she were herself repre-
hensible before society ? The thought hardened
him again.

A CHECK. 201

" I see you are up to business, as well as to some
other things," he scud. " I have my living to
make ; you are paid for by your husband and
amuse yourself by deceiving him. If he divorces
you, you may find out what it is to make your own
way in the world ; as long as your good looks last
no doubt it will be easy ; but after that you may
be ready to take a few lessons from me. But
meantime I intend to bleed you for what I want.
As soon as you get tired of paying me, I shall go
to the judge — and you will go to the devil ! Is
that plain ? "

" Yes, I understand you. You will certainly
earn your money," she remarked, with a smile that
made him grind his teeth. " Well, then, I w;ii pay
you for your silence. Now, as to the ; mount.
Have you thought about that ? "

" You will hand over five hundred ollars this
evening. I will let you know when I want any
more."

" No," she said decisively, " I will not give you
five hundred dollars. That is absurd."

11 Either that, or your husband knows all about
your performances before he goes to bed to-
night."

" Very well. But recollect that by betraying me
to him you will free me from every restraint and
scruple. I suppose you don't need to be told that
I am not kindly disposed toward you. The pleas-
ure of destroying you would compensate me for
the loss of social position you speak of. While

202 A CHECK.

you are with my husband, I shall be with Inspector
Byrnes. I promise you faithfully that you shall
suffer the utmost penalty of the law ; and after the
law has done with you, I will take you in hand
myself. When that time comes, you will wish that
the law had kept you longer. You will never draw
a breath that is not free from pain and terror as
long as you live. Look at me, sir. Don't you
think I mean what I say ? "

The quietness of anger at white heat was in her
eyes and voice, and it scared the man somewhat,
as it would have scared a much more doughty ras-
cal. He forced a laugh, and struck his boot with
his cane. After a moment she turned and resumed
her walk up the street.

He remained where he was until she was half a
block distant. Then he hastened after her and
overtook her.

" Look here, Mrs. Ketelle," he said, " business is
business. I'm not a fool. Tell me what you can
do, and I'll give you my answer."

She replied at once, continuing her walking, but
keeping her eyes upon him as she spoke. " I am
allowed by my husband fifty dollars a week pocket-
money. I will pay you twenty dollars a week,
until, in my opinion, you have had enough. I will
pay you your first month's wages in advance —
eighty dollars. You must be careful not to apply
for more until the month is out. Those are my
terms."

" They won't do ! " said he, blusteringly. " You'll

A CHECK. 203

pay me two hundred now and fifty a week, or it's
no deal ! Come, now ! "

" If you address me again, except to accept my
proposition, I will have you arrested, come what
may ! " The color rushed to her face and her
eyes flashed. She was losing her temper, and she
was evidently in earnest.

He was silent a moment, and then shrugged his
shoulders. "All right, I'll take it," he said.
" Hand over the money."

" I do not carry that amount in my purse," she
returned quietly.

" How am I to get it, then ? "

" You will come to my house like any other per-
son to whom things are paid. Did you think I
was going to make appointments to meet you at
the street corners, or in liquor saloons ? My hus-
band will pay you."

" Your husband ! Look here, Mrs. Ketelle, you
are a smart woman ; but if you think you can play
any game on me, you are mistaken. You have
more at stake than I have. Don't try to bluff
me!"

" If I have the most at stake, why do you feel
uneasy? You will receive your money in that way,
or not at all. It is just as you choose."

They had now reached the corner of the avenue ;
Pauline signalled the down-town car that was ap-
proaching, and got in. The man followed her.
She handed the conductor a double fare, remark-
ing, " I am paying for that person."

204 A CHECK.

No conversation passed while they were in the
car. Dupee was ill 'at ease, but he could not see
but that he had the best of the situation. She
could not afford to betray him. On the other
hand, what if Judge Ketelle should happen to
know him by sight ? No ; he was certain they had
never met ; the judge had taken no part in his
trial, either as witness or jurist. Besides, again,
was it not her interest to protect him ?

The car stopped, and they got out, and walked
across to her house. The door was opened to her
ring, and they entered.

" Is Judge Ketelle in ? " she asked the servant.

" Yes, madam. He has just gone into the
library."

" Sit down here," she said to Dupee, addressing
him as if he were a tradesman's clerk who had
called for his bill. " I will let you know when it
is ready."

She passed through a door on the right, leaving
him there. Presently he heard her voice and an-
other— the judge's — in conversation. Then she
opened another door further up the hall and
called to him, " Come this way, please."

He went forward, and found himself in the
library. The judge was seated at a writing-table on
which stood a student's lamp. He was in the act
of taking his check-book from a drawer.

"What amount did you say, my dear?" he in-
quired, suspending his pen over the inkstand.

" Eighty dollars," she replied.

A CHECK. 205

The judge began to write. "What name?" he
inquired, looking up at Dupee, who stood some-
what in the shadow.

" What is your name ? " Mrs. Ketelle repeated.

Dupee now fancied he knew why she had brought
him to the house. In the first place, the check
could be traced ; then the judge could be called to
prove that it had been paid to him ; and, finally,
she had hoped to surprise him into betraying his
name. But he had gone too far to go back ; and
as for the name, that was easily managed. It was
partly from a malicious motive that he answered :

" My name is John Crush."

" John Grush," echoed the judge, writing it
down. He signed the check, and extended it
toward Dupee. " Have you receipted the bill ? "
he asked.

Dupee looked at Mrs. Ketelle. " I did not get
a bill," she said. " The check is itself a receipt, is
it not?"

" Yes, yes, to be sure," rejoined her husband.
" Well, that's all right, then ; that's all ! "

" You may go," said Mrs. Ketelle, glancing at
Dupee as if he were a piece of furniture. When
she heard the street door close, she went round to
her husband and kissed him. " You are very
good," she said.

" What — to give you eighty dollars without ask-
ing you what you had bought ? " he returned,
laughing.

" Yes ; but you shall know some time."

206 A CHECK:.

" My dearest, I am not curious : I only want you
to love me. Do you know," he added, " I can't
get it out of my head that I have met that fellow —
that clerk who was here just now — that I have
seen him somewhere before, — and under odd cir-
cumstances, too."

" Where ? " said she, startled and deeply inter-
ested.

" Hum ! I can't fix it ! Maybe I shall remember
later. But it's no consequence, after all. Now one
more kiss, and I'll go and get ready for dinner."

CHAPTER XXI.

AT HEADQUARTERS.

THE next morning, while the judge and Pauline
were sitting over their breakfast, he said, " By
the way, my darling, you remember my saying
yesterday that that person — the black-haired man,
whom I paid a check to — reminded me of some
one ? "

Pauline, who had been sitting in a listless and
pensive posture, instantly brightened up, and
expectation sparkled in her eyes.

" Yes, I remember ! Have you thought who
it is ? "

" It occurred to me last night, or early this
morning, while I was lying awake. The name he
gave yesterday evening — John — something — '

" John Crush."

" John Grush — yes ; that was not the name of
the person I am thinking of. I don't mean to
imply that his name may not have been John
Grush. But he certainly bears a remarkable re-
semblance to another man whom you, I think,
never saw, but whose name will be familiar to you."

" Who ? tell me ! "

208 AT HEADQUARTERS.

The judge was a little surprised at her impa-
tience. " Mind you, it's only a fancy of mine," he
said. " Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it ;
but it had such an odd relation to a matter very
near to you. Of course, however, it is impossible
that the person who was here last night can be the
man I refer to."

" But who is it?"

" He reminded me of Horace Dupee," said the
judge. " Of course you know whom I mean. I
was not personally engaged in the trial, but I
dropped into the court one day, and watched the
proceedings for half an hour. That was the only
occasion on which I ever saw Dupee. He was a
striking looking fellow, and I retained an unusually
distinct memory of his features. This man Crush
looks a good deal older than Dupee did — though,
to be sure, it was several years ago."

" Will you have some more coffee, dear ? " asked
Pauline.

" No more, thank you. I'll go and smoke a
cigar, and then . . . How is your mother feeling
this morning?"

" About the same. I have an idea it might be
good for her to get up to breakfast in the morn-
ings. I think she could, if she tried. Perhaps a
stimulus of some sort would benefit her — some
great piece of news, for instance."

" Possibly. But I hardly think there is any news
that would be likely to interest your mother. She
hardly ever so much as looks in a newspaper."

AT HEADQUARTERS. 209

" I don't mean news of that kind. But if, for
instance, she should hear that the thief who com-
mitted the robbery of which Percy was accused
was caught and convicted ; or (if it were possible)
that Percy himself is not dead, but had in some
strange way escaped ! "

" Ah, yes ; such news would give her fresh life,
no doubt. But we must not let our imagination
take so wide a range."

" It is not impossible. Why may not Percy be
alive ? No one has seen his dead body. Why may
he not return some day? Men have often returned
who were thought to be lost for years and years."

" Why, my dear, do not let your mind run on such
thoughts ! You are excited already. We must
not hope to see Percy again."

After a pause, Pauline said, " If he were to
come back, do you think he would be arrested on
that old charge ? "

" Speaking from the legal point of view, I sup-
pose he would be."

" But suppose he were to come back — suppose
he were in New York now — would it be unsafe for
him to be seen or to have it known ? Would he
have to keep in hiding until his innocence could
be proven ? "

" My dearest wife," replied the judge, gently,
" the law can not be affected by sentiment. If it
were so, it would cease to be the law. I do not
say that, in ceasing to be the law, it might not, in
certain instances, become something better and

210 AT HE A DQUAR TERS.

higher. Only in certain instances, mind you ! As
to Percy's case, there is no reason to suppose that
he would be treated with any special severity.
Quite the contrary. It is almost certain that the
original prosecutor would not appear ; and the
government would scarcely take up the matter.
No ; Percy would be arrested, and certain formal-
ities would be gone through with, and — but, bless
my soul, I am talking as if the poor boy were still
in this world ! God bless him ! He is far beyond
the reach of wrorldly justice or injustice now ! "

With these words the good judge got up, and
after kissing his wife's hand, in a chivalrous fash-
ion of his, he went into the library to smoke his
cigar.

Pauline loved her husband, but she was glad to
be alone at that moment. She was wrought up to
a high pitch or excitement, and felt the necessity
of dealing with her thoughts and emotions in pri-
vate. She went up to her boudoir and locked her-
self in.

Since the occurrence of the day before, she had
more than once been on the point of revealing the
whole matter to her husband. Had it concerned
herself alone, she would have done so at the out-
set. But the secret was Percy's in the first place ;
and she could not tell how she had been black-
mailed without revealing his presence in the city.
No doubt the judge would keep the secret, for her
sake if for no other reason ; but she had reflected
that it could do no good to Percy to have him

AT HEADQUARTERS. 211

know it ; and if Percy's presence should happen to
be discovered in any other way it might prove
awkward for the judge to have been found in the
position of sheltering a fugitive from justice. . On
the other hand, she could not tell Percy of the
insult that had been put upon her, because he
would undoubtedly sacrifice every thing to inflict
summary punishment upon the blackmailer. She
had therefore decided to pay the latter a sum of
money, giving him to understand that no more
would be forthcoming for a month ; and in the
course of that month she intended to turn all her
energies to the task of clearing Percy, by some
means or other, of the old charge which so ham-
pered and obstructed him. She would then be
free to deal with the blackmailer at her leisure ;
and she intended to punish him to the full extent
of the law.

But the revelation of the blackmailer's identity
changed the whole aspect of the case. To Pauline
it had been totally unexpected ; and yet in looking
back she could fancy that she had known him
intuitively from the first. Be that as it might, it
was a triumph more complete than she had ever
dared to anticipate. Dupee was the man who had
murdered her brother Jerrold ; he (as she believed)
was the man who had cast a nearly fatal shadow
over the career of Percy ; and he, again, delivered
himself, bound hand and foot, into her power by
perpetrating upon her the crime of blackmail. She
had him securely, for though he had given a false

212 AT HEADQUARTERS.

name the judge would be able to identify him as
the recipient of the check, and the case against him
would thus be proved. He would be arrested on
that charge, and then it would go hard but the whole
truth should come out. She regarded Percy as
being as good as free, and was strongly impelled to
go and tell him the story at once ; but, on second
thought, she decided to wait until the probability
had been made a certainty, and then bring him
news in which there should be no element of con-
jecture. She wished, moreover, to enjoy the
pleasure of managing the affair herself, without
either her husband's or her brother's help.

Having determined in her own mind her plan of
proceedings, she waited until her husband had
started on his daily trip to his office, and then she
put on her cloak and bonnet and went out her-
self.

It was a fine, clear forenoon. It was not the
first time she had visited Police Headquarters, and
she knew the way thither. The squalid denizens
of Bleecker and Mulberry streets stared at the
handsome lady as she passed by, but she was too
much preoccupied by the matter in hand to notice
their observation. She mounted the steps of the
big white-faced building with a light heart, and
asked to be admitted to see Inspector Byrnes.

She had just put the question to the sergeant
when the Inspector came out, in hat and overcoat.
He recognized her immediately, and lifted his hat
with a smile.

AT HEADQUARTERS. 213

" You are going out," she said. " When can I
see you ? "

" I am not going out," was his reply. " I am
going to ask you to come into my office and have a
talk. If you had not come here i might have called
on you to-day. Come in." And he conducted her
to the inner room.

" Now, then," he said, when they were seated,
" what is the news ? "

" It is you who should have news for me," she
returned, smiling. " I'm sure you have had time
to find out a dozen such mysteries as the one I
asked you about."

The Inspector wore an amused look. "When
you want to bamboozle an old hand like me," he
said, "you must first of all learn to command your
face. You must not look happy if you expect me
to believe that you are miserable. If you have lost
a brother you must not look as if you had found
one ! "

Pauline blushed and got a little frightened. " It
was not my brother that I asked you to find, In-
spector Byrnes," she said.

" No ; the brother was to be thrown in, I sup-
pose ! This is fine weather we are having just
now, Mrs. Ketelle," he added in another tone.
" Capital for exercise ! "

" I beg your pardon."

He laughed. "You live up near the Park," he
said. "Would it be too far for you to walk up to
1 25th Street, or that neighborhood ?"

214 AT HEADQUARTERS.

" To 1 25th Street?"

" By the way, that reminds me of something ;
perhaps you may be able to enlighten me. There
is an English friend of mine in town, a gentleman
by the name of Clifton. He is over here to look
after the interests of a valuable English estate. It
seems that the hereditary owner of this estate late-
ly deceased, and it became necessary to find the
next man in the succession. It was known
that he had gone to New Zealand, but upon inves-
tigation there it appeared that he had left on a
visit to this country. Finally news of him was re-
ceived from Mexico. Does the story interest you ? "

" Let me hear," she said.

" Well, in Mexico a man answering to his name
was found ; but, on being told of his inheritance,
he declared that he would have nothing to do with
it. That seemed odd ; for people are not in the
habit of throwing away three-quarters of a million
of money. Just then a person appeared on the
scene who affirmed that this man was not the per-
son he represented himself to be at all, but an im-
postor. That seemed possible in one way ; but in
the other way, an impostor would be the last man
in the world whom one would expect to let a great
property slip between his fingers. My English
friend was puzzled ; but he knew that this myste-
rious gentleman had lately been in New York, and
it occurred to him that it might be a good plan to
come on here and see if he could learn any thing
more about him.

AT HEADQUARTERS. 215

" Now, it so happens that I have an acquaintance
in Mexico who makes a point of knowing what
goes on there, and whenever he hears of any thing
that he thinks might interest me he drops me a
line, or sends a telegram, if there is any hurry. He
had heard about this affair I speak of, and also
that the mysterious gentleman had had an inter-
view with some government officials, and immedi-
ately afterwards had left Mexico, en route for the
United States. He telegraphed this information,
together with the alleged name of the mysterious
gentleman. It was a name I had heard before, and
I had even met the gentleman himself. So, when
the steamer was announced, I took half an hour,
and went down to the wharf to say good-day to
him. And then, Mrs. Ketelle, a curious thing hap-
pened."

He paused and fixed his eyes on her. She sat
before him with her hands tightly clasped in her
lap, her lips compressed, and her eyes dark with
emotion.

" The gentleman whom I saw," continued the
Inspector, " was not the one named in the tele-
gram, but it was an intimate friend of his, whom I
had also met before. He had, however, been re-
ported dead. But seeing him alive and well,
though somewhat changed in appearance, I came
to the conclusion that perhaps a mistake had been
made, and that it was the friend who had died —

But Pauline could restrain herself no longer.
She lifted her hands slightly and let them fall again.

2 1 6 AT HEADQ UA R TERS.

" He was a dear friend of mine," she said, while
the tears came into her eyes ; " he was a good
friend to Percy. I see you know all, Inspector ;
you seem to know every thing ! What are you
going to do with him ? "

CHAPTER XXII.

JOHN CRUSH.

WHAT am I going to do with him ? " the In-
spector repeated. " Why, I have been under
the impression that he was already in the best of
hands, and would need no attentions from me ! "

" Ah, don't laugh at me ! If you mean harm to
him, let me know it. It was by my advice that he
kept in hiding. If he were arrested here, it would
ruin his position in Mexico, even if he were released
again immediately."

•' Now, Mrs. Ketelle, let us understand each
other," said the Inspector, becoming grave and
business-like. " You asked me, a year ago, to
clear the memory of your brother, whom you
believed to be dead, of the stain that had been put
upon it, by discovering and punishing the real per-
petrator of the crime he was accused of. I told
you that I would do what I could, and I have kept
my word. By and by you discover that your brother
is not dead after all, and is in New York. Don't
you think it would have been a kind and courteous
act on your part to have come to me and told me
of it?"

21 8 JOHN CRUSH.

" He is my brother," was her reply. " I could
think of nothing before his welfare. I have told
no one that he is here, or that he is alive — not
even my mother nor my husband. I know that you
are an officer of the law, and that when you saw
your duty you would have no choice but to execute
it. I hoped that the real criminal would be found,
and so all turn out right."

" I don't know as I ought to expect you to care
more for the law than you do for your brother,"
remarked the detective, stroking his chin ; " and
perhaps I should feel complimented that you
expected the real criminal, as you call him, to be
tracked and captured out of hand. But America
is a large place, and the police have a number of
things to look after ; and, as you know, it is one
thing to suspect a man, and another to convict him.
As to Mr. Percy Nolen, I will only say, at present,
that I have thought it sufficient to keep one eye on
him ; his arrest is not necessary at this stage of the
proceedings."

'• I thank you, Inspector Byrnes," Pauline said,
" whether you considered me in your action or not.
But have you heard nothing of — of Horace Dupee ?"

The Inspector raised his head and contemplated
her gravely.

" So you continue to think it was Horace Dupee
who stole the money ? " he said.

" Oh, I am sure of it ! "

" But would you go on the stand to-day and
swear to it ? "

JOHN CRUSH. 219

" I could not do that," she replied reluctantly.
" I have not the evidence ; I only feel that it was
he."

" Then, if you had the evidence, it would be all
right ? "

lt Yes, indeed. Have you found any thing ? "
she asked eagerly.

" Well, that depends on what one considers any-
thing." He opened a drawer and took out soine
papers. " There seems to be reason to think that
Horace Dupee was in New York at the time the
robbery was committed."

" Ah ; I knew it ! "

" It also appears that, immediately after the
robbery, he left New York and went to San Fran-
cisco."

" Yes, yes, I knew it ! He fled to escape arrest ! "

" Shortly after his arrival there," continued the
Inspector, impassively, " a thousand-dollar bank-
note was presented to be cashed at a bank there,
which was issued by a banking institution here in
New York, and, as it happened, by the same insti-
tution where Mrs. Tunstall kept her account."

" Then it is proved ! He is the man ! " exclaimed
Pauline triumphantly.

" No, it is not proved," returned the detective,
shaking his head. " It takes more than that to
make a conviction. We do not know that the note
was presented by Horace Dupee ; and even if we
did it would still be possible that he had received
it from some one else. No, Mrs. Ketelle, we can-

220 JOHN CRUSH.

not arrest Dupee on that evidence. If we could
find any pretext for arresting him, either on this
charge or on any other, then it might be possible to
complete our evidence as to this. But the power
to do that is unfortunately wanting."

" Do I understand you that if any one brought a
charge against him on another matter you could
obtain a conviction on this ? "

" I don't promise we would do it ; I only say it
might be possible. But at any rate I think it
would do no harm if you would tell me all about
your interviews with Dupee and what came of it."

Pauline gazed at the Inspector in astonishment.

" You know about that too ? " she exclaimed at
length.

" Why not ? What is there so wonderful in
that?" he returned, composedly.

" I suppose nothing seems wonderful to you,"
replied she ; " but I confess I had expected to
surprise you in regard to that ! Well, then, if you
know that I have seen him, I suppose that you
know all that passed between us, also? "

" No, no," rejoined the Inspector, laughing,
" my knowledge stops at the fact of the interview.
What you said to each other you will have to tell
me if you wish me to know it."

" It was in order to tell you that I came here,"
said Pauline ; and she went on to give an account
of the whole affair, the Inspector listening to her
with close attention. Her narrative was clear and
precise.

JOHN CRUSH. 221

" Do you think that he was aware that you were
the sister of Jerrold and Percy Nolen ? " he asked,
after she had finished.

" He must have known it. I was married only a
short time ago, and my maiden name was in the
papers."

" Does it not seem odd that he should have made
this attempt upon a woman whose brother he had
murdered ? Murderers are usually more careful, if
nothing else. I think we shall find, Mrs. Ketelle,
that he is innocent of that crime. As regards the
robbery I say nothing; but I have never thought it
likely that a fellow like Dupee would committ a
murder so peculiarly cold-blooded and compara-
tively unprovoked as that would have been. But
if he was wrongly charged with it it is quite con-
ceivable that he may have embraced this opportunity
to revenge himself upon a member of the family
that brought him to ruin."

" You maybe right."

" I believe it will turn out so. But there is
another point suggested by your story. It is quite
certain that he did not know your brother, for if he
had he would not have attempted to blackmail you
on his account — or, at any rate, not on the ground
that he put forward."

" Yes, there can be no doubt about that," Pauline
assented.

" Then don't you see it has a bearing on the
robbery ? Your theory has been that he committed
the robbery partly, at least, in order to have your

222

brother arrested for it. But as he did not know
your brother by sight that theory will not stand.
If we consider him to have been the thief, his in-
volving your brother in the scrape must have been
merely a coincidence. Your brother happened to
be talking to the lady, and his overcoat pocket hap-
pened to be the one in which the purse could most
conveniently be dropped. If Mrs. Tunstall's hus-
band, instead of your brother, had been in your
brother's place, the evidence, so far as the purse
was concerned, would have pointed at him."

" That is logical — I cannot deny it," said Pauline.
" But it does not show his innocence of the rob-
bery ; it only shows that he had not the motive for
committing it that I supposed he had ; it was not
revenge — it was vulgar pocket-picking ! "

" Well, that is as it may be. But let me refer to
another point in your story. You said that the
name he gave to your husband was Crush — John
Crush?"

" Yes, but of course it was an assumed name."

"No doubt; but it is curious that he should
have assumed that particular name instead of an-
other."

" Why not that as well as any ? "

" Because it is the name of another man — a real
man, that is, a fellow who has been a companion
and intimate of Dupee's for some years past. John
Crush went with Dupee to California, and returned
with him. It was he who pointed you out to Du-
pee in the park, the day you first saw your brother.

JOHR CRUSH. 223

It was he who suggested to Dupee that it might be
a profitable job to blackmail you."

" How did you learn all that, Inspector Byrnes?"
" I might tell you that I learned it by detective
intuition, or some other sort of witchcraft. But
the simple truth is that John Grush told me ! "
" He told you ? He is one of your men, then ?"
" Not at all ! But he has done me good service
on this occasion, nevertheless."

" But ... I don't think I understand ! "
" It is such a thing as happens every day. John
Grush was arrested last night for attempting to
take a man's watch in an elevated train. It is not
the first time we have had dealings with him, and
when he was brought in he realized that he would
probably be sent up for a long term. So he re-
solved to get even with a man who had ' gone back
on him,' as he expressed it. And that man was
Horace Dupee."

" They had quarreled ? "

" Precisely. And the quarrel was about you.
When Grush proposed blackmailing you, Dupee
had pooh-poohed it ; but he did so only in order
to have all the profits to himself. Having got rid
of Grush, as he supposed, he followed you about,
and traced you to your brother's lodgings in Har-
lem. What he did there, you know. But Grush
had distrusted him, and found out the double game
he was playing. He bore him a grudge for it ; and
early this morning he sent word to me that he had
something to communicate. I went downstairs and

224 JOHN CRUSH.

saw him in his cell. He told me of Dupee's bad
faith, and said that I would find that Dupee had
actually received money from you. I acted as if I
placed no credit in his accusation ; and upon that
he went on and declared that Dupee had, a year
ago, committed a robbery for which an innocent
man was arrested. Yes, Mrs. Ketelle, it was the
Tunstall robbery that he mentioned. I asked him
how he knew, and he said that he was intimate with
Dupee at the time, and that when Percy Nolen was
arrested Dupee had laughed and remarked that it
was a good job ; he was glad to have done a Nolen
an ill-turn, and that he hoped Nolen might rot in
gaol while he was spending the money Nolen was
imprisoned for."

" Oh, the villain !" murmured Pauline, with dilat-
ing eyes.

" I told Grush," continued the Inspector, " that I
believed, if Dupee had had anything to do with the
robbery, that Grush had been equally guilty. He
denied it at first, but finally admitted that he had
discovered the fact that Mrs. Tunstall was in the
habit of going about town with large sums of
money in her pocket ; and upon my pushing him
still further he added that he had pointed her out
to Dupee on the morning of the crime, and had
waited outside the jeweler's shop while Dnpee was
doing the work inside. According to his account,
Dupee had not acted squarely with him on this occa-
sion either ; he had refused to give him a fair share
of the plunder ; but Grush had postponed betray-

JOHN CRUSH. 225

ing his dissatisfaction until he could give it some
practical effect. He gave a number of details which
coincided with facts that I had previously ascer-
tained, and convinced me that his story was sub-
stantially true."

" Thank heaven ! " exclaimed Pauline. " Oh,
my dear brother ! "

''Wait a moment!" rejoined the detective.
" We are not quite out of the woods yet ! On
making a review of the evidence at our disposal, I
doubted whether it would he safe to cause Dupee's
arrest on the robbery charge. If we should fail to
hold him we might bid him good-bye ; he would
never be seen here again. But if I could get from
you a confirmation of the blackmail story, and
especially if you could prove actual payment of
money, then our course would be much simpler.
We could arrest and hold him on that ground
without any doubt, and the rest, unless I am
greatly mistaken, will come of itself."

" I can certainly prove the payment," said
Pauline. " My husband and Jhe check are both in
evidence."

" Very good ; and now," said the Inspector,
lowering his voice and leaning forward, " let me
explain to you a little plan I have formed for
bringing this thing to a head."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE SHADOW LIFTED.

BY ten o'clock the next morning all Inspector
Byrne's preparations were complete, down to
the least detail ; and there was nothing left to do
but wait for the fly to walk into the web.

Horace Dupee, after receiving his check, put it
in his pocket with the intention of getting it cashed
at the bank on the morrow. But in order to do
this it would.be necessary that he be identified.
This would not be a particularly easy matter in
any case, and the less so because the name on it
was not his own. At length he decided to get it
cashed through some friend. He was reluctant to
have it known to any one that he had had any
dealings with Judge Ketelle, and it was partly on
this account that he had given Crush's name.
But it was an annoyance and a risk even so, and he
promised himself that he would not be caught with
a check again in a hurry.

Late that night he succeeded in cashing the
check over the bar of an inn in the lower part of
the city, where he was lodging. The landlord of
the inn was a depositor at the bank on which the
check was drawn. This was on Wednesday. The

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 22j

next day, Thursday (the day of Pauline's interview
with the Inspector), the check was sent to the bank
to be turned in with the other receipts. On Thurs-
day evening the check came back, marked N. G.
Dupee was not in the hotel at the time ; but he
entered about eleven o 'clock. The hotel-keeper
called his attention to the dishonored check, and
demanded from him payment of the face amount.
Dupee had by that time spent a good deal of the
eighty dollars ; but rather than have any disturb-
ance he deposited fifty dollars, and promised to go
to the bank the next day and have the thing
straightened out.

But though he carried it off with a composed
face, he was in reality filled with rage and appre-
hension.

What could be the meaning of it ? A check
signed by Judge Ketelle refused at his own bank !
Was it a mistake, an accident, or a deliberate plan ?
A mistake it could hardly be ; there was nothing
ambiguous in the wording of the check, and Dupee
had made sure that the date and all the minor
details had been correctly entered. *The probability,
was greater of its being an accident. Judge Ketelle
might have inadvertently overdrawn his account.
If this were the case, the matter could be easily
rectified. But, on the other hand, the third con-
tingency remained — that the check had been stopped
by special direction. If that were so, it meant
that Mrs. Ketelle had declared war. She had
resolved to defy him. She fancied, perhaps, that

228 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

he would not have the courage to carry out his
threat and reveal her intrigue to her husband.
Well, if that were her idea, she would discover her
mistake. He would reveal her shame, whatever
the consequences to himself. He would blast her
life ; not only her husband, but the whole world
should know what she had done ; and if he suffered
imprisonment for it, at any rate the time would
come when he would again be free, and then he
could seek her out and taunt her with her ignominy.
For time would bring no freedom to her.

This bitterness of malice on his part was partly
characteristic of the nature of the man ; but there
was in it an element of exceptional animosity.
Almost all criminals who have fallen from a higher
social position lay the responsibility of their
degradation at the door of some person or com-
bination of circumstances outside of themselves.
So it was with Dupee, who dated the beginning of
his misfortune from the day when he was arrested
on the charge of murder by the father of Jerrold
Nolen. Pauline and her mother were the only
living representatives (as he believed) of that man.
They should suffer a vicarious punishment. So
strong was his desire to me this punishment inflicted
that he half hoped Mrs. Ketelle had really played
him false. The longer he thought over the matter
however, the less likely did it seem that this could
be the case. Whatever she might think as to the
probability of his failing to carry out his threat, the
possibility that he would carry it out was too serious

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 229

a one to invite. Recognizing this, Dupee prepared
himself for either contingency. He would go to
Judge Ketelle's office and inform him of the
refusal of the check, as if he supposed it to be an
ordinary business error. If the judge redeemed
the check, well and good ; the matter might stop,
for the present at any rate, where it was. If, on
the contrary, resistance should be offered to his
claim, he would know how to defend himself.

It was about eleven o'clock when he mounted
the steps of the judge's office on Pine Street. The
rooms were on the first floor ; there was an outer
office, and two or three inner rooms, opening into
one another. Two or three clerks were writing in
the outer room when Dupee entered. He asked
one of them if Judge Ketelle were within.

" I'll see, sir," replied the clerk, looking up.
" What name shall I say ? "

" Say Mr. Grush wants to see him a moment —
Mr. John Grush."

The clerk went into the inner room, and soon
came back with the request that Mr. Grush would
stop inside. Dupee passed through the door,
which was closed behind him. He found himself
in a handsomely furnished parlor, beside the window
of which Judge Ketelle sat at his desk. The judge
turned in his chair, and asked him to be seated.
"I think you were up at my house, the other
evening," he remarked. " I recognize the name
and the face."

" You are quite right, judge," replied Dupee,

230 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

assuming an easy air, " and it is on a matter
connected with my visit to you on that occasion
that I have ventured to trouble you now. There
was a check, you remember ? "

" Perfectly. A check for the sum of eighty dol-
lars. Well?"

" Well, there seems to have been some difficulty
or misunderstanding — probably the cashier at the
bank made some stupid mistake ; but, anyhow,
the check was returned yesterday, marked ' no
good.' I thought you would wish to know about it."

" Hum ! I am not in the habit of having my checks
returned, certainly," said the judge. " Let me
see ; on what bank was the check drawn ? "

" The Battery Bank," replied Dupee.

" I will tell you how such a mistake might occur,
Mr. Grush," said the judge, after a short
pause. " I keep accounts at several banks. Some-
times one or other of these accounts runs out before
I am aware of it. My wife has a separate account,
which is at the Battery Bank. In writing the
check the other evening I may have inadvertently
used her check-book, my own account being ex-
hausted. The fact that she had money there would
of course not warrant the cashier in paying my
check. I do not assert that this is the explana-
tion ; but it might be."

"To be sure; nothing more likely," rejoined
Dupee. " But, at all events, the check having been
returned, I suppose you will have no objection to
writing another ? "

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 231

" There would be some other considerations in-
volved in that, Mr. Crush," said the judge, bend-
ing an intent look on Dupee. " May I ask
you, in the first place, what this payment was
for ? "

" It was for a purchase made by Mrs. Ketelle,
sir," said Dupee, somewhat confused by this unex-
pected question ; " a purchase at — at our store — I
am a salesman there, and —

" What store is it you speak of ? " demanded the
judge.

" Castellani's, on Broadway," replied Dupee,
giving the first name that occurred to him, and
feeling a little uneasy at the turn of the conversa-
tion.

"Castellani, the jeweller ? " said the judge. " I
know the place well. It was there that the rob-
bery of Mrs. Tunstall's pocket-book took place,
last year."

Dupee bit his lips. But it was necessary to
carry out his part, .and he could not resist the
temptation to aim a blow at the judge. " You are
quite right, judge," he said, " the robbery for
which young Percy Nolen was arrested."

" Yes ; he was arrested for it," returned the
judge, gravely ; " but it has been discovered, Mr.
Crush, that the robbery was the work of another
man. That man," he added, fixing his eyes upon
the other, " is known to the police, and will un-
doubtedly expiate his crime. But to return to this
check. How does it happen that the money was

232 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

payable to you, instead of to the company ? That
seems peculiar."

" Well, you see, I — I have an interest in the busi-
ness, and am authorized to receive payments per-
sonally."

" Ah ! Still, as the matter, from the pecuniary
point of view, concerns the company, and not you,
it can make no difference if I cause inquiries to be
made at Castellani's before writing you another
check. As I have no personal acquaintance with
you, you will perceive the propriety of this precau-
tion."

" I don't regard the matter in that light," an-
swered Dupee, who was beginning to lose his nerve.
" I am not accountable to the firm. I -sold the
goods, and I must request you to pay me the
money."

There was a book lying on the judge's desk, and
at this moment, apparently by accident, a move-
ment of his elbow caused this book to fall heavily
to the floor.

" The affair concerns Mrs. Ketelle more directly
than it does me," he observed. " I will communi-
cate with her ; and if she authorizes the payment
I will make it." At that moment the door into the
outer office opened. " And by the way," contin-
ued the judge, " here is Mrs. Ketelle now. We
can settle this thing here."

It was, in fact, Pauline. Her face was pale and
grave, but her eyes sparkled like stars. Dupee
knew not how to interpret her abrupt appearance.

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 233

The look that she bestowed upon him did not tend
to reassure him. But he summoned all his resolu-
tion, and resolved to fight if brought to bay.

" My dear," said the judge, as his wife came
over to him and stood by his chair. " This person
tells me that the check I gave him, at your request,
has been stopped, and he wants me to write him
another."

' It was stopped by my orders," said Pauline,
turning her eyes again on Dupee. "The money
will not be paid."

" Why won't it be paid ? " retorted Dupee.
" Do you mean to deny that it is due ? "

" I owe you nothing," she replied.

" Oh ! we'll see about that ! Do you wish me to
tell your husband what it was you bought of me,
and paid eighty dollars on account?"

" I owe you nothing and shall pay you nothing,"
was her answer. " You are an impostor and a
thief. Your name is not John Grush, but Horace
Dupee. I have waited for you a long time."

" Never mind what my name is, or what I am !
I know what you are, and what you have done !
And unless you pay me, here and now, not eighty
dollars but eight hundred, your husband shall know
as much as I do ! "

" 'Not, so loud, sir, if you please," interposed the
judge. " I don't think you can tell me any thing
about Mrs. Ketelle that I do not already know.
But if you think otherwise, I am ready to hear you,
and I fancy Mrs. Ketelle will not object."

234 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

Pauline inclined her head contemptuously. " Let
him speak ! " she said.

" Oh, I'm going to speak — don't make any mis-
take about that ! " Dupee exclaimed, beside him-
self with mingled fear and rage ; for he was wholly
unable to account for the security of Pauline's de-
meanor. " I'm going to speak, and what I say
shall he heard not only by your husband, who im-
agines you to be a virtuous and respectable woman,
but by all New York, or wherever else she may go.
I tell you, Judge Ketelle, that the sooner you turn
that woman into the street the better it will be for
your credit and reputation ! She has deceived
you ever since she was married to you ! Let her
deny it if she can ! Let her deny that she visits a
fellow — her lover — in his lodgings in Harlem, and
drives with him in the park ! Let her deny that if
she dares ! She meets him every day ; he is a
younger man than you are, judge, and better look-
ing, and they laugh at you for an old fool when
they are together. And they are together every
day. I say, the sooner you kick her into the street
the better, or you will have all New York laughing
at you ! I've got the facts, and I'll make 'em
known, and prove 'em, too ! "

" Are you prepared to maintain," said the judge,
in a quiet tone, " that there is any thing unseemly
in the relations of the gentleman you speak of and
Mrs. Ketelle?"

Dupee laughed harshly. " Ask him ! " he re-

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 235

turned. " Bring him and her together, and ask
them what their relations are ! "

" I am fortunately able to do that," answered the
judge, "because the gentleman in question happens
to be at hand. I will summon him." And step-
ping to the door of the inner room, he partly opened
it and said, " Come in ! "

The next moment the figure of a tall young man
appeared on the threshold, and advanced into the
apartment. He was the very man whom Dupee
had seen in the park, and afterwards traced to the
Harlem flat. But how came he to be in waiting
here ? What was the meaning of it all ?

" Is this the gentleman you speak of ? " inquired
the judge of Dupee, indicating the new-comer.

" Oh, I suppose they have fooled you with some
clever lie or other," said Dupee with a snarl. " All
the same, what I tell you is the truth ; and the
world will believe it, if you don't ! "

*' You seem to know so much, sir," answered the
judge, " that you probably do not need to be in-
formed that Mrs. Ketelfe was formerly Miss Nolen,
and that she had two brothers. One of them died
from the effects of injuries received mysteriously,
while in the company of one Horace Dupee, sev-
eral years ago. The other brother, Percy by name,
was accused, a year since, of a robbery at Castel-
lani's jewelery store. He left New York and was
reported drowned ; but the report turned out to
have been an error. He returned to New York
about ten days ago ; but his presence was not

236 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

generally made known, owing to the fact that the
true perpetrator of the robbery had not yet been
identified. The identification has now been made,
however, and therefore the necessity of concealing
Mr. Percy Nolen's presence no longer exists."

"Well, and what has all this rigmarole to do
with me?" demanded Dupee defiantly. "What
have I to do with Percy Nolen ?"

"I am Percy^Nolen." said the gentleman in
question, regarding Dupee with a very stern ex-
pression, " and this lady is my sister."

Dupee saw at once that he had been outwitted
and trapped. The check had been stopped in
order to induce him to come to Judge Ketelle's
office -, and it had been previously arranged that
Mrs. Ketelle and Percy were to meet him there and
effect his discomfiture. There was nothing left for
him to do except to retire like the baffled villain in
the melodrama, muttering, " Foiled ! but I will yet
be avenged ! " or words to that effect. Dupee,
however, failed to grasp the dramatic opportunities
of the situation ; but he said, as he moved towards
the door, " You have been known as a pickpocket,
Percy Nolen, and it '11 stick to you ! " With that
he opened the door, and \vould have gone out of
it, had he not been confronted there by a broad-
shouldered, athletic gentleman, with a brown
mustache and piercing eyes, who was accompanied
by a dejected personage wearing the familiar as-
pect of Mr. John Crush, the only true and genuine
proprietor of that name, ,

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 237

The broad-shouldered man, after handing Crush
into the room, followed him and closed the door.
"Good morning, Mrs. Ketelle and gentlemen," he
said, cheerfully. " Well, Horace^ you see I have a
friend of yours here. Jack has been complaining
to me of you. He says you not only stole his
name, but infringed his patent blackmail scheme.
And so, by way of retaliation, he has been telling
very bad tales of you. I'm afraid you are in for
a good deal of trouble, Horace."

" There's no need of making a fuss about this
affair, Inspector," said Dupec, assuming a non-
chalant air. " There's been no blackmail that I
know of. It is true that Judge Ketelle paid me a
worthless check the other day ; but there has been
no pecuniary transaction, properly speaking, and I
don't know what this man," indicating Crush, " is
grumbling about. I know very little of him."

" He has the advantage of you, then," returned
the Inspector, " for he knows a great deal about
you. I have been waiting for you for a year. I
knew you'd be back here, so I didn't bother to dis-
turb you in San Francisco ; but I've got that
thousand-dollar note up at the office ; and Crush
has filled up any little gaps in the chain, though
we could have done very well without him. Hold
out your hands ! "

The last words were spoken in a voice so differ-
ent from the good-natured banter of the fore-
going sentences that Dupee gave a start and
mechanically extended his wrists, and the next

238 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

moment the hand-cuffs were round them. The
moment after that, however, he seemed to take in
the significance of what the Inspector had said.
He turned and cast a very malignant glance ai
Crush.

u You will find evidence against me, will you ! "
he cried, in a grating tone.

" You did that job on the lady in the jewelry
store, and put it off on him," returned Crush,
nodded toward Percy, and speaking with a swag-
ger. " You know it, and I'll take my oath to it any
day. You played a low-down game on me, and
that's what you get for it ? "

"You'll give evidence that I'm a pickpocket,
will you ? " repeated Dupee, staring at the man
with a strange expression, half leer and half scowl.
" Well, you may do it ; or you needn't, just as you
please ; for I did rob the v/oman, and I don't care
who knows it, now ! But yor. gave it away too
quick, Jack Grush ; this is the worst day's work
you ever did ; it would have been worth some-
thing to you to have found out, first, whether I
had any little stories to tell about you ! "

The Inspector, who had been on the point of
putting an abrupt end to their dialogue, seemed to
change his purpose at the last sentence ; and the
others present involuntarily listened for what
might follow.

" You can't tell any thing to hurt me ! " retorted
Grush. " I've got my medicine, and I'm going to
take it. You can't change it."

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 239

" We'll see if I can't. I know something ; I've
known it for years— for years, do you hear, Jack
Grush ! I haven't said any thing about it ; it was
too good a thing to give away — until the time came !
It was a whip I could drive you with anytime, and
I kept it till I should want it. Little you imagined
that I have had the whole thing, pat by heart, ever
since the first month I was out of the prisoner's
dock ! I knew better than to let you suspect it.
But I've waited long enough, and you might as
well have it now as later.58

" Blessed if I know what he's chattering about ! "
said Grush, addressing the company in general
with an air of perplexed innocence. " I suspect
he's gone off his head a little."

" When I left the prisoner's dock, acquitted of
murdering Jerrold Nolen," Dupee went on, with
intense emphasis, " you were one of the first to
make up to me and say that, since society had
kicked me out, I was justified in kicking against
society, and living by my wits. But, all the time,
if I had been convicted, you would have let me
hang, you hound, sooner than say a word to save
me ! and yet you were the scoundrel who crept up
to a drunken man. . . Hold him, Inspector ! "

Grush, in fact, had suddenly made a leap at
Dupee like a wild beast. But the Inspector's hand
was stretched out like a flash and grasped him by
the back of the collar with an iron hold. The
fellow made one tremendous but vain effort to
break loose, and then stood still, shaking all over,

240 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

but dangerous no longer, The Inspector gave a
sharp whistle ; a sergeant entered the room, and at
a nod from his superior had Grush manacled in a
jiffy and stood up against the wall. The Inspector
straightened his shirt-cuff and said, " Come, Horace,
make an end of this business; we can't stay here
all the morning to hear you two scoundrels abuse
each other."

" I say," said Dupee, with a sort of excited
shriek in his voice, "that after I took Jerrold
Nolen to the door of his house, and left him, so
help me God, alive in the stoop there, though so
drunk he didn't know what he was about, that
devil there came up to him and robbed him, and
gave him the blow behind the ear that killed him !
I say it, and I can prove it ! And when he feels
the rope about his neck, let him remember that it
was Horace Dupee put it there ! "

" Take them out, sergeant," said the Inspector,
abruptly ; :* I will be at the office presently.
They're a pair of them, and, to my thinking, hang-
ing is too good for either of them ! "

The little audience which had been involuntary
spectators of this violent and ugly scene drew a
breath of relief when the door closed behind the
two convicts. It was a long time before the night-
mare impression wore off.

" That last turn was unexpected," observed the
Inspector, deprecatingly. " It wasn't on my pro-
gramme. I think Dupee probably told the truth

THE SHADOW LIFTED. 241

about it ; you remember, Miss Nolen, I always
doubted his having committed the greater crime.
But, on the whole, I think we may congratulate
ourselves on having made a very good end of the
affair. You will not have to return to Harlem, Mr.
Nolen, unless you wish to. And, on the other
hand, when you go back to Mexico, I fancy you
will find no difficulty in carrying with you all the
guarantees, social or business, that you want."

"Thanks to you, Inspector," said the young
man with feeling, grasping the officer by the hand.

" Oh, no ; that is where your thanks belong,"
the latter returned, bowing toward Pauline with a
smile. " She deserves most of the credit for the
successful issue of this affair. No sister, I'll make
bold to say, ever stood by a brother so faithfully as
she has by you. I have done little besides back
her up now and then ; and, if I hadn't, I believe
she would have done the whole thing alone by her-
self ! " and evading further thanks and praises, the
chief detective made a comprehensive salute to the
company, and vanished from the room.

" He's what I call a man ! " said Percy.

" And a general ! " added the judge.

Pauline said in a whisper, " God bless him ! "

Judge Ketelle and his beautiful wife continue to
live in New York, and now that the shadow is
lifted from them they are the sunny center of a
charming society. Mrs. Nolen lives with them, in
the enjoyment of a serene old age. Percy returned

242 THE SHADOW LIFTED.

to Mexico, and is still living there, having become
quite wealthy ; and his betrothal is reported to
the daughter of one of the chief men in the govern-
ment. Mrs. Valentine Martin is believed to be in
England, intriguing, without much prospect of
success, for the possession of her late husband's
estates. Dupee is behind the bars ; Crush con-
trived to cheat the gallows. Inspector Byrnes is
hard at work ; but hard work agrees with him.

THE END.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publication*.

Illustrated, JFtne-^rt, att& atlrer ITohtmes.

Abbeys and Churches of England and Wales, The : Descriptive,

Historical, Pictorial, sis.

After London ;or,Wild England. By the late RICHARD JEFFERIES. 35. 6d.
Along Alaska's Great River. By Lieut. SCHWATKA. Illustrated. 123. 6d.
American Penman, An. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. Boards, 2s. ;

cloth, 33. 6d.

American Yachts and Yachting. Illustrated. 6s.
Arabian Nights Entertainments, The (Cassell's Pictorial Edition).

With about 400 Illustrations. IDS. 6d.

Architectural Drawing. By PHENE SPIERS. Illustrated. IDS. 6d.
Art, The Magazine of. Yearly Vol. With 12 Photogravures, Etchings,

&c., and several hundred choice Engravings. i6s.
Behind Time. By GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP. Illustrated. 2s. 6d.
Bimetallism, The Theory of. By D. BARBOUR. 6s.
Bismarck, Prince. By CHARLES LOWE, M.A. Two Vols. IDS. 6d.
Black Arrow, The. A Tale of the Two Roses. By R. L. STEVENSON. 55.
British Ballads. With 275 Original Illustrations. Two Vols. 75. 6d. each.
British Battles on Land and Sea. By the late JAMES GRANT. With

about 600 Illustrations. Three Vols., 4to, £l 73.; Library Edition, £i IDS.
British Battles, Recent. Illustrated. 410, gs. ; Library Edition, IDS.
British Empire, The. By Sir GEORGE CAMPBELL, M.P. 33.
Browning, An Introduction to the Study of. By A. SYMONS. as. 6d.
Butterflies and Moths, European. By W. F. KIRBY. With 61

Coloured Plates. Demy 410, 353.
Canaries and Cage-Birds, The Illustrated Book of. By W. A.

BLAKSTON, W. SWAYSLAND, and A. F. WIENER. With 56 Fac-simile

Coloured Plates, 353. Half-morocco, £2 55.

Cannibals and Convicts. By JULIAN THOMAS (" The Vagabond"). 5s.
Captain Trafalgar. By WESTALL and LAURIE. 53.
Cassell's Family Magazine. Yearly Vol. Illustrated, gs.
Celebrities of the Century : being a Dictionary of Men and

Women of the Nineteenth Century. 2is. ; Roxburgh, 253.
Chess Problem, The. A Text-Book, with Illustrations. 73. 6d.
Children of the Cold, The. By Lieut. SCHWATKA. 2s. 6d.
Choice Poems by H. W. Longfellow. Illustrated. Cloth, 6s.
Choice Dishes at Small Cost. By A. G. PAYNE, is.
Christmas in the Olden Time. By Sir WALTER SCOTT, with Original

Illustrations. 73. 6d.

Cities of the World. Three Vols. Illustrated. 73. 6d. each.
Civil Service, Guide to Employment in the. 33. 6d.
Civil Service. — Guide to Female Employment in Government

Offices, is.
Clinical Manuals tor Practitioners and Students of Medicine. A

List of Volumes forwarded post free on application to the Publishers.
Clothing, The Influence of, on Health. By F. TREVES, F.R.C.S. 2s.
Colonies and India, Our, How we Got Them, and Why we Keep

Them. By Prof. C. RANSOME. is.
Colour. By Prof. A. H. CHURCH. New and Enlarged Edition, with

Coloured Plates. 33. 6d.
Columbus, Christopher, The Life and Voyages of. By WASHINGTON

IRVING. Three Vols. 73. 6d.
Commodore Junk, By G. MANVILLH FENN. gs.
Cookery, Cassell's Dictionary of. Containing about Nine Thousand

Recipes, 73. 6d. ; Roxburgh, zos. 6d.
Co-operators, Working Men: What they have Done, and What

tney are Doing. By A. H. DYKE-ACLAND, M.P., and B. JONES, is.
Cookery, A Year's. By PHYLLIS BROWNE. .33. 6d.

30.7.88

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

Cookery, Cassell's Shilling. The Largest and Best Work on the

Subject ever produced. 384 pages, limp cloth, is.
Cook Book, Catherine Owen's New. 45.
Countries of the World, The. By ROBERT BROWN, M.A., Ph.D., &c.

Complete in Six Vols., with about 750 Illustrations. 4to, 73. 6d. each.
Culmshire Folk. By the Author of " John Orlebar," &c. 33. 6d.
Cyclopaedia, Cassell's Miniature. Containing 30,000 subjects. Cloth,

33. 6d.
Cyclopaedia, Cassell's Concise. With 12,000 subjects, brought down

to the latest date. With about 600 Illustrations, 155. ; Roxburgh, i8s.
Dairy Farming. By Prof. J. P. SHELDON. With 25 Fac-simile Coloured

Plates. Cloth, 2is.

Dead Man's Rock. A Romance. By Q. 55.
Decisive Events in History. By THOMAS ARCHER. With Sixteen

Illustrations. Boards, 35. 6d. ; cloth, 58.
Deserted Village Series, The. Consisting of Editions de luxe of the

most favourite poems of Standard Authors. Illustrated. 2s. 6d. each.
SONGS FROM SHAKESPEARE. ! GOLDSMITH'S DESERTED VILLAGE.
MILTON'S L/ALLEGRO AND IL WORDSWORTH'S ODE ON IMMORTALITY,

PENSEROSO. I AND LINES ON TINTERN ABBEY.

Dickens, Character Sketches from. FIRST, SECOND, and THIRD SERIES.

With Six Original Drawings in each by F. BARNARD. In Portfolio,

21 s. each.
Diary of Two Parliaments. By W. H. LUCY. Vol. I. : The Disraeli

Parliament. Vol. II. : The Gladstone Parliament, izs. each.
Dog Stories and Dog Lore. By Col. THOS. W. KNOX. 6s.
Dog, The. By IDSTONE. Illustrated. 2s. 6d.
Dog, Illustrated Book of the. By VERO SHAW, B.A. With 28 Coloured

Plates. Cloth bevelled, 353. ; half-morocco, 453.
Domestic Dictionary, The. Illustrated. Cloth, 75. 6d.
Dora's Dante's Inferno. Illustrated by GUSTAVE DORE. 2is.
Dora's Dante's Purgatorio and Paradise. Illustrated by GUSTAVE

DORE. Popular Edition. 2is.

Dore''s Fairy Tales Told Again. With Engravings by DORE. 53.
Dore" Gallery, The. With 250 Illustrations by DORE. 410, 423.
Dore's Milton's Paradise Lost. Illustrated by DOR& 4to, 213.
Earth, Our, and its Story. By Dr. ROBERT BROWN, F.L.S. Vol. I.

With Coloured Plates and numerous Wood Engravings, gs.
Edinburgh, Old and New. Three Vols. With 600 Illustrations, qs. each.
Egypt: Descriptive, Historical, and Picturesque. By Prof. G. EBERS.

Translated by CLARA BELL, with Notes by SAMUEL BIRCH, LL.D., &c.

With 800 Original Engravings. Popular Edition. In Two Vols. 423.
"89." A Novel. By EDGAR HENRY. Cloth, 33. 6d.
Electricity in the Service of Man. With nearly 850 Illustrations. 2is.
Electricity, Practical. By Prof. W. E. AYRTON. 73. 6d.
Electricity, Age of, from Amber Soul to Telephone. By PARK

BENJAMIN, Ph.D. 75. 6d.

Encyclopaedic Dictionary, The. A New and Original Work of Refer-
ence to all the Words in the English Language. Complete in Fourteen

Divisional Vols., xos. 6d. each ; or Seven Vols., half-morocco, 2is. each.
England, Cassell's Illustrated History of. With 2,000 Illustrations.

Ten Vols., 410, gs. each. New and Revised Edition. Vols. I. and II.

gs. each.

English History, The Dictionary of. Cloth, 2is. ; Roxburgh, 255.
English Literature, Library of. By Prof. HENRY MORLEY. Five

Vols., 73. 6d. each.

VOL. I. — SHORTER ENGLISH POEMS.
VOL. II. — ILLUSTRATIONS OF ENGLISH RELIGION.
VOL. III. — ENGLISH PLAYS.

VOL. IV. — SHORTER WORKS IN ENGLISH PROSE. [ PROSK.

VOL. V. — SKETCHES OF LONGER WORKS IN ENGLISH VERSF. AND
English Literature, The Story of. By ANNA BUCKLAND. 33. 6d.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

English Literature, Morley's First Sketch of. Revised Edition, 73. 6d.
English Literature, Dictionary of. By W. DAVENPORT ADAMS.

Cheap Edition, 75. 6d. ; Roxburgh, IDS. 6d.
English Writers. By Prof. HENRY MORLEY. Vols. I., II., III., and

IV. Crown 8vo, 55. each.
^sop's Fables. Illustrated throughout by ERNEST GRISET. Cheap

Edition. Cloth, 35. 6d.
Etching. By S. K. KOEHI.ER. With 30 Full-Page Plates by Old and

Modern Etchers. £4 45.

Etiquette of Good Society, is. ; cloth, is. 6d.
Europe, Pocket Guide to, CasselTs. Leather. 6s.
Eye, Ear, and Throat, The Management of the. 35. 6d.
Fair Trade Unmasked. By GEORGE W. MEDLEY. 6d.
Family Physician, The. By Eminent PHYSICIANS and SURGEONS.

New and Revised Edition. Cloth, 2is. ; Roxburgh, 255.
Fenn, G. Manville, Works by. Picture boards, 2s. each ; or cloth,

as. 6d. each.

MY PATIENTS. Being the Notes

of a Navy Surgeon.
DUTCH THE DIVER.

THE PARSON o' DUMFORD.
THE VICAR'S PEOPLE. ) In cloth
SWEET MACE. ) only.

POVERTY CORNER.

Ferns, European. By JAMES BRITTEN, F.L.S. With 30 Fac-simile
Coloured Plates by D. BLAIR, F.L.S. 2is.

Field Naturalist's Handbook, The. By the Rev. J. G. WOOD
and THEODORE WOOD. 53.

Figuier's Popular Scientific Works. With Several Hundred Illustra-
tions in each. 33. 6d. each.

THE HUMAN RACE.

WORLD BEFORE THE DELUGE.

REPTILES AND BIRDS.

THE OCEAN WORLD.
THE VEGETABLE WORLD.
THE INSECT WORLD.

MAMMALIA.

Fine-Art Library, The. Edited by JOHN SPARKES, Principal of the
South Kensington Art Schools. Each Book contains about 100
Illustrations. 53. each.

THE EDUCATION OF THK ARTIST.
By Ernest Chesneau. Translated
by Clara Bell. (Non-illustrated.)
GREEK ARCHAEOLOGY. By Maxime
Collignon. Translated by Dr.

ING. ByE. Chesneau. Translated ^ H- WnSht'

ENGRAVING. By LeVicomte Henri
Delaborde. Translated by R.
A. M. Stevenson.

TAPESTRY. By Eugene Milntz.
Translated by Miss L. J. Davis.

THE ENGLISH SCHOOL OF PAINT-

by L. N. Etherington. With an
Introduction by Prof. Ruskin.
THE FLEMISH SCHOOL OF PAINT-
ING. By A. J. Wauters. Trans-
lated by Mrs. Henry Rossel.

ARTISTICANATOMY. ByProf.Duval.

Translated by F. E. Fenton.
THE DUTCH SCHOOL OF PAINTING.

By Henry Havard. Translated

by G. Powell.

Five Pound Note, The, and other Stories. By G. S. JEALOUS, is.
Flower Painting, Elementary. With Eight Coloured Plates. 35.
Flowers, and How to Paint Them. By MAUD NAFTEL. With

Coloured Plates. 53.
Forging of the Anchor, The. A Poem. By Sir SAMUEL FERGUSON,

LL.D. With 20 Original Illustrations. Gilt edges, 53.
Fossil Reptiles, A History of British. By Sir RICHARD OWEN,

K.C.B., F.R.S., &c. With 268 Plates. In Four Vols., £12 12s.
France as It Is. By ANDR£ LEBON and PAUL PELET. With Three

Maps. Crown 8vo, cloth, 73. 6d.
Franco-German War, Cassell's History of the. Two Vols. With

500 Illustrations, gs. each.
Fresh-water Fishes of Europe, The. By Prof. H. G. SEE-.KY, F.R.S.

Cheap Edition. 73. 6d.
From Gold to Grey. Being Poems and Pictures of Lire and Nature. By

MARY D. BRINE. Illustrated. 73. 6d.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

Garden Flowers, Familiar. By SHIRLEY HIBBERD. With Coloured
Plates by F. E. HULME, F.L.S. Complete in Five Series. I2s. 6d. each.
Gardening, Cassell's Popular. Illustrated. 4 vols., 53. each.
Geometrical Drawing for Army Candidates. By H. T. LILLEY,

Geometry, First Elements of Experimental. By PAUL BERT. is.6d.

Geometry, Practical Solid. By MAJOR Ross. 2s.

Germany, William of. A succinct Biography of William I., German

Emperor and King of Prussia. By ARCHIBALD FORBES. Crown 8vo,

cloth, 33. 6d.

Gladstone, Life of W. E. By G. BARNETT SMITH. With Portrait. 35. 6d.
Gleanings from Popular Authors. Two Vols. With Original Illus-
trations. 410, gs. each. Two Vols. in One, 155.

Great Bank Robbery, The. A Novel. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. Boards, 2s.
Great Industries of Great Britain. Three Vols. With about 400

Illustrations. 410, cloth, 73. 6d. each.
Great Painters of Christendom, The, from Cimabue to Wilkie.

By JOHN FORBES-ROBERTSON. Illustrated throughout. ias. 6d.
Great Northern Railway, The Official Illustrated Guide to the.

is. ; or in cloth, 2s.
Great Western Railway, The Official Illustrated Guide to the.

New and Revised Edition. With Illustrations, is. ; cloth, 2s.
Gulliver's Travels. With 88 Engravings by MORTEN. Cheap Edition.

Cloth, 35. 6d. ; cloth gilt, 55.
Gum Boughs and Wattle Bloom, Gathered on Australian Hills

and Plains. By DONALD MACUONALD. 55.
Gun and its Development, The. By W. W. GREENER. With 500

Illustrations. los. 6d.

Guns, Modern Shot. By W. W. GREENER. Illustrated. 55.
Health, The Book of. By Eminent Physicians and Surgeons. Cloth,

2is. ; Roxburgh, 253.

Health, The Influence of Clothing on. By F. TREVES, F.R.G.S. 28.
Health at School. By CLEMENT DUKES, M.D., B.S. 73. 6d.
Heavens, The Story of the. By Sir ROBERT STAWELL BALL, F.R.S.,

F.R.A.S. With Coloured Plates and Wood Engravings. 313. 6d.
Heroes of Britain in Peace and War. In Two Vols., with 300

Original Illustrations. 53. each ; or One Vol., library binding, los. 6d.
Homes, Our, and How to Make them Healthy. By Eminent

Authorities. Illustrated. 153. ; Roxburgh, i8s.
Horse Keeper, The Practical. By GEORGE FLEMING, LL.D., F.R.C.V.S.

Illustrated. 73. 6d.
Horse, The Book of the. By SAMUEL SIDNEY. With 28 fac-simile

Coloured Plates. Enlarged Edition. Demy 410, 35s.; half-morocco, 455
Horses, The Simple Ailments of. By W. F. Illustrated. 53.
Household Guide, Cassell's. Illustrated. Four Vols., zos.
How Dante Climbed the Mountain. By ROSE EMILY SELFE. With

Eight Full-page Engravings by GUSTAVE DORE. 2s.
How Women may Earn a Living. By MERCY GROGAN. is.
India, Cassell's History of. By JAMES GRANT. With about 400

Illustrations. Library binding. One Vol. 155.

India: the Land and the People. By Sir J. CAIRO, K.C.B. IDS. 6d.
Indoor Amusements, Card Games, and Fireside Fun, Cassell's

Book of. Illustrated. 33. 6d.
Irish Parliament, The ; What it Was and What it Did. By J. G.

SWIFT MACNEILL, M.A., M.P. is.

Irish Parliament, A Miniature History of the. By J. C. HASLAM. 3d.
Irish Union, The ; Before and Alter. By A. K. CONNELL, M.A. 2s. 6d.
John Parmelee's Curse. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 2s. 6d.
Kennel Guide, The Practical. By Dr. GORDON STABLES, is.
Khiva, A Ride to. By Col. FRED. BURNABY. is. 6d.
Kidnapped. By R. L. STEVENSON. Illustrated Edition. 55.
King Solomon's Mines. By H. RIDER HAGGARD. Illustrated Edition. 5*.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

Ladies' Physician, The. A Guide for Women in the Treatment of
their Ailments. By a Physician. 6s.

Lady Biddy Fane. By FRANK BARRETT. Three Vols. Cloth, 318. 6d.

Lady's World, The. An Illustrated Magazine of Fashion and Society,
Yearly Vol. i8s.

Land Question, The. By Prof. J. ELLIOT, M.R.A.C. Including the
Land Scare and Production of Cereals. 33. 6d.

Landscape Painting in Oils, A Course of Lessons in. By A. F.
GRACE. With Nine Reproductions in Colour. Cheap Edition, 253.

Law, About Going to. By A. J. WILLIAMS, M.P. as. 6d.

Legends for Lionel. By WALTER CRANE. Coloured Illustrations. 55.

Letts's Diaries and other Time-saving Publications are now pub-
lished exclusively by CASSF.LL & COMPANY. (A list free on application)

Local Dual Standards. Gold and Silver Currencies. ByJ. H.NORMAN, is.

Local Government in England and Germany. By the Right Hon.
Sir ROBERT MORIER, G.C.B., &c. is.

London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway, The Official Illus-
trated Guide to the. is. ; cloth, zs.

London and North Western Railway, The Official Illustrated
Guide to the. is. ; cloth, as.

London and South Western Railway, The Official Illustrated
Guide to the. is. ; cloth, as.

London, Greater. By EDWARD WALFORD. Two Vols. With about
400 Illustrations, gs. each.

London, Old and New. Six Vols., each containing about 200
Illustrations and Maps. Cloth, gs. each. [Edition, i6s.

Longfellow's Poetical Works. Illustrated throughout, £3 33.; Popular

Luther, Martin: His Life and Times. By PETER BAYNE, LL.D.
Two Vols., demy 8vo, 1,040 pages. Cloth, 345.

Mechanics, The Practical Dictionary of. Containing 15,000 Draw-
ings. Four Vols. ais. each.

Medicine, Manuals for Students of. (A List forwarded post free.}

Midland Railway, Official Illustrated Guide to the. New and Re-
vised Edition, is.; cloth, as.

Modern Europe, A History of. By C. A. FYFFE, M.A. Vol. I.,
from 1792 to 1814. ias. Vol. II., from 1814 to 1848. las.

Music, Illustrated History of. By EMIL NAUMANN. Edited by the
Rev. Sir F. A. GORE OUSELEY, Bart. Illustrated. Two Vols. 315. 6d.

National Library, Cassell's. In Weekly Volumes, each containing
about 192 pages. Paper covers, 3d. ; cloth, 6d. (A List of the Volumes
already issued sent post free on application.)

Natural History, Cassell's Concise. By E. PERCEVAL; WRIGHT,
M.A., M.D., F.L.S. With several Hundred Illustrations. 73. 6d.

Natural History, Cassell's New. Edited by Prof. P. MARTIN
DUNCAN, M.B., F.R.S., F.G.S. Complete in Six Vols. With about
2.000 Illustrations. Cloth, gs. each.

Nimrod in the North ; or, Hunting and Fishing Adventures in the
Arctic Regions. By Lieut. SCHWATKA. Illustrated. 75. 6d.

Nursing for the Home and for the Hospital, A Handbook of.
By CATHERINE J. WOOD. Cheap Edition, is. 6d. ; cloth, as.

Oil Painting, A Manual of. By the Hon. JOHN COLLIER, as. 6d.

Orion the Gold Beater. A Novel. By SYLVANUS COBB, Junr. Cloth, 33. 6d.

Our Own Country. Six Vols. With 1,200 Illustrations. 73. 6d. each.

Out-door Sports and In-door Amusements, Cassell's Book of.
With more than 900 Illustrations. Cheap Edition, 992 pages.
Medium 8vo, cloth, 33. 6d.

Painting, Practical Guides to. With Coloured Plates and full in-
structions : — Marine Painting, 53. — Animal Painting, 55. — China Paint-
ing, 55. — Figure Painting, 75. 6d. — Elementary Flower Painting, 36. —
Flower Painting, 2 Books, £s. each. — Tree Painting, 55. — Water-Colour
Painting, 55. — Neutral Tint, 53. — Sepia, in 2 Vols., 35. each ; or in
One Vol., 53.— Flowers, and How to Paint Them, 58.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

Paris, Cassell's Illustrated Guide to. Cloth, as.
Parliaments, A Diary of Two. By H. W. LUCY. The Disraeli Par-
liament, 1874— 1880. I2S. The Gladstone Parliament, 1881—1886. I2S.
Paxton's Flower Garden. By Sir JOSEPH PAXTON and Prof. LINDLEY.

Three Vols. With 100 Coloured Plates. £i is. each.
Peoples of the World, The. In Six Vols. By Dr. ROBERT BROWN.

Illustrated. 73. 6d. each.

Phantom City, The. By W. WESTALL. Second Edition. 55.
Photography for Amateurs. By T. C. HEPWORTH. Illustrated, is.;

or cloth, is. 6d.
Phrase and Fable, Dictionary of. By the Rev. Dr. BREWER. Cheap

Edition, Enlarged, cloth, 35. 6d. ; or with leather back, 45. 6d.
Picturesque America. Complete in Four Vols., with 48 Exquisite Steel

Plates and about 800 Original Wood Engravings. £2 2s. each.
Picturesque Canada. With 600 Original Illustrations. 2 Vols. £3 33. each.
Picturesque Europe. Complete in Five Vols. Each containing

13 Exquisite Steel Plates, from Original Drawings, and nearly 200

Original Illustrations. £10 los. The POPULAR EDITION is published

in Five Vols., i8s. each.

Pigeon Keeper, The Practical. By LEWIS WRIGHT. Il'ustrated. 33. 6d.
Pigeons, The Book of. By ROBERT FULTON. Edited and Arranged by

L. WRIGHT. With 50 Coloured Plates, 318. 6d. ; half-morocco, £2 2S.
Poets, Cassell's Miniature Library of the : —

BURNS. Two Vols. 2s. 6d.
BYRON. Two Vols. 2s. 6d.
HOOD. Two Vols. 2s. 6d.
LONGFELLOW. Two Vols. 2s. 6d.

MILTON. Two Vols. as. 6d.
SCOTT. Two Vols. 2s. 6d. [as. 6d.
SHERIDAN and GOLDSMITH. 2 Vols.
WORDSWORTH. Two Vols. as. 6d.

SHAKESPEARE. Illustrated. In 12 Vols., in Case, las.
Police Code, and Manual of the Criminal Law. By C. E. HOWARD

VINCENT, M.P. as.
Popular Library, Cassell's. Cloth, is. each.

The Russian Empire.

The Relig.ous Revolution in the

i6th Century.
English Journalism.

The Story of the English Jacobins.
Domestic Folk Lore.
The Rev. Rowland Hill : Preacher
and Wit.

Our Colonial Empire. j Boswell and Johnson : their Corn-

John Wesley. panions and Contemporaries.

The Young Man in the Battle History of the Free-Trade Move-
of Life. ment in England.

Post Office of Fifty Years Ago, The. Containing Reprint of Sir
ROWLAND HILL'S famous Pamphlet proposing Penny Posiage. is.

Poultry Keeper, The Practical. By LEWIS WRIGHT. With Coloured
Plates and Illustrations. 35. 6d.

Poultry, The Illustrated Book of. By LEWIS WRIGHT. With Fifty
Coloured Plates. Cloth, 313. 6d. ; half-morocco, £a as.

Poultry, The Book of. By LEWIS WRIGHT. Popular Edition, ics. 6d.

Pre-Raphaelites, The Italian, in the National Gallery. By COSMO
MONKHOUSE. Illustrated, is.

Printing Machinery and Letterpress Printing, Modern. By J. F.
WILSON and DOUGLAS GREY. Illustrated. 2is.

Queen Victoria, The Life and Times of. By ROBERT WILSON. Com-
plete in Two Vols. With numerous Illustrations, gs. each.

Queer Race, A. By W. WESTALL. 55.

Quiver, The. Yearly Volume. Containing Several Hundred Illustra-
tions. 73. 6d.

Rabbit-Keeper, The Practical. By CUNICULUS. Illustrated. 33. 6d.

Representative Poems of Living Poets American and English.
Selected by the Poets themselves. 153.

Republic of the Future, The. By ANNA BOWMAN DODD. as.

Royal River, The : The Thames from Source to Sea. With Descrip-
tive Text and a Series of beautiful Engravings. £2 as.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

Red Library, Cassell's. Stiff covers, is. each; cloth, as. each
People I have Met.

[•he Pathfinder.
Evelina.
Scott's Poems.
Last of the Barons.
Adventures of Mr. Ledbury.
Ivanhoe.
Oliver Twist.

Selections from Hood's "Works.
Longfellow's Prose "Works.
Sense and Sensibility.
Lytton's Plays. [Harte.

Tales, Poems, and Sketches. Bret
Martin Chuzzlewit (2 Vols.).
The Prince of the House of
Sheridan's Plays. [David.

"Uncle Tom's Cabin.
Deerslayer.
Eugene Aram.

Jack Hintou, the Guardsman.
Home and the Early Christians.

Poe's "Works.
Mortality.

Old
The

_ he Hour and the Man.
Handy Andy.
Scarlet Letter.
Pickwick (2 Vols.)
Last of the Mohicans.
Pride and Prejudice.
Yellowplush Papers.
Tales of the Borders.
Last Days of Palmyra.
"Washington Irving's Sketch-
Book.

The Talisman.
Byienzi.

Old Curiosity Shop.
Heart of Midlothian.
Last Days of Pompeii.
American Humour.
Sketches by Boz.
Macaulay's Lays and Essays.
The Trials of Margaret Lyndsay. Harry Lorrequer.

Russia. By Sir DONALD MACKENZIE WALLACE, M.A. With a new

Autobiographical Chapter. 53.

Russo-Turkish War, Cassell's History of. With about 500 Illus-
trations. Two Vols., gs. each.

Saturday Journal, Cassell's. Yearly Volume, cloth, 73. 6d.
Science for All. Edited by Dr. ROBERT BROWN. Illustrated. Five

Vols. gs. each.
Sea, The: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, and Heroism.

By F. WHYMPER. With 400 Illustrations. Four Vols., 73. 6d. each.
Section 558, or The Fatal Letter. A Novel. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE.

Boards, zs. ; cloth, 33. 6d.

Sent Back by the Angels. And other Ballads. By FREDERICK LANG-
BRIDGE, M.A. Cloth, 43. 6d. Popular Edition, is.
Shaftesbury, The Seventh Earl of, K.G., The Life and Work of.

By EDWIN HODDER. With Portraits. Three Vols., 363. Popular

Edition, in One Vol., 73. 6d.
Shakspere, The International. Edition de Luxe. " King

Henry IV.," Illustrated by Herr EDUARD GRUTZNER, £3 IDS. ;

"As You Like It," Illustrated by Mons. EMILE BAYARD, £3 los. ;

" Romeo and Juliet," Illustrated by FRANK DICKSEE, A.R.A., £5 55.
Shakspere, The Leopold. With 400 Illustrations. Cloth, 6s. ; cloth

gilt, 73. 6d. ; half-morocco, IDS. 6d. Cheap Edition. 35. 6d.
Shakspere, The Royal. With Steel Plates and Wood Engravings.

Three Vols. 155. each.
Shakespeare, Cassell's Quarto Edition. Edited by CHARLES and

MARY COWDEN CLARKE, and containing about 600 Illustrations by

H. C. SELOUS. Complete in Three Vols., cloth gilt, £3 33.
Shakespeare, Miniature. Illustrated. In Twelve Vols., in box, ias. ;

or in Red Paste Grain (box to match), with lock and key, 2is.
Shakespearean Scenes and Characters. With 30 Steel Plates and 10

Wood Engravings. The Text written by AUSTIN BRERKTON. zis.
Ships, Sailors, and the Sea. By R. J. CORNEWALL- JONES. Illustrated. 55.
Short Studies from Nature. Illustrated. Cheap Edition. 2s. 6d.
Sketching from Nature in Water Colours. By AARON PENLEY.

With Illustrations in Chromo- Lithography. 155.

Skin and Hair, The Management of the. By M. MORRIS, F.R.C.S. zs.
Sonnets and Quatorzains. By CHRYS, M.A. Oxon. 55.
Steam Engine, The Theory and Action of the : for Practical Men.

By W. H. NORTHCOTT, C.E. 33. 6d.

Stock Exchange Year- Book, The. By THOMAS SKINNER. 123. 6d.
Summer Tide. "Little Folks " Holiday Number. J»

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

Sunlight and Shade. With numerous Exquisite Engravings. 75. 6d.
Surgery, Memorials of the Craft of, in England. With an Intro-
duction by Sir JAMES PAGET. sis.
Technical Education. By F. C. MONTAGUE. 6d.

Thackeray, Character Sketches from. Six New and Original Draw-
ings by FREDERICK BARNARD, reproduced in Photogravure. 2is.
Town Holdings, is.
Tragedy of Brinkwater. The. A Novel. By MARTHA L. MOODEY

Boards, as. ; cloth, 35. 6d.

Tragic Mystery, A. A Novel. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. Boards, as.
Treasure Island. By R. L. STEVENSON. Illustrated. 53.
Treatment, The Year-Book of. 53.
Trees, Familiar. By G. S. BOULGER, F.L.S. Two Series. With 40

full-page Coloured Plates, from Original Paintings by W. H. J. BOOT.

I2S. 6d. each.
Twenty Photogravures of Pictures in the Salon of 1885, by the

leading French Artists.
"Unicode": the Universal Telegraphic Phrase Book. Desk and

Pocket Editions. 2s. 6d. each.
United States, Cassell's History of the. By the late EDMUND

OLLIER. With 600 Illustrations. Three Vols. gs. each.
United States, The Youth's History of the. By EDWARD S. ELLIS.

Illustrated. Four Volumes. 363.

Universal History, Cassell's Illustrated. Four Vols. gs. each.
Vaccination Vindicated. By JOHN McVAiL, M.D., D.P.H. Camb. 5s.
Veiled Beyond, The. A Novel. By S. B. ALEXANDER. Cloth, 35. 6d.
Vicar of Wakefield and other Works by OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

Illustrated. 33. 6d. ; cloth, gilt edges, 53.
What Girls Can Do. By PHYLLIS BROWNE. 2s. 6d.
Who is John Noman ? A Novel. By CHARLES HENRY BECKETT.

Boards, 2s. ; cloth, 35. 6d.
Wild Birds, Familiar. By W. SWAYSLAND. Four Series. With 40

Coloured Plates in each. 123. 6d. each.
Wild Flowers, Familiar. By F. E. HULME, F.L.S., F.S.A. Five

Series. With 40 Coloured Plates in each. I2s. 6d. each.
Wise Woman, The. By GEORGE MACDONALD. 2s. 6d.
Woman's World, The. Yearly Volume. i8s.
World of Wit and Humour, The. With 400 Illustrations. Cloth,

75. 6d. ; cloth gilt, gilt edges, IDS. 6d.

World of Wonders. Two Vols. With 400 Illustrations. 73. 6d. each.
Yoke of the Thorah, The. A Novel. By SIDNEY LUSKA. Boards,

2s. ; cloth, 33, 6d.
Yule Tide. Cassell's Christmas Annual, is.

ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINES.
The Quiver. ENLARGED SERIES. Monthly, 6d.
Cassell's Family Magazine. Monthly. ?d.
"Little Folks"' Magazine. Monthly, 6d.
The Magazine of Art. Monthly, is.
The Woman's World. Monthly, is.
Cassell's Saturday tTortrnal. Weekly, id. ; Monthly, 6d.

Catalogues of CASSELL & COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS, which may be had at all
Booksellers', or will be sent post free on application to the Publishers : —

CASSELL'S COMPLETE CATALOGUE, containing particulars of upwards of

One Thousand Volumes.
CASSELL'S CLASSIFIED CATALOGUE, in which their Works are arranged

according to price, from Threepence to Twenty-five Guineas.
CASSELL'S EDUCATIONAL CATALOGUE, containing particulars of CASSELL
& COMPANY'S Educational Works and Students' Manuals.

CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, Ludgate Hill, London.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

atttr

Bible, The Crown Illustrated. With about 1,000 Original Illustrations.
With References, &c. 1,248 pages, crown 410, cloth, 73. 6d.

Bible, Cassell's Illustrated Family. With 900 Illustrations. Leather,

gilt edges, £2 los.
Bible Dictionary, Cassell's. With nearly 600 Illustrations. 75. 6d.

Bible Educator, The. Edited by the Very Rev. Dean PLUMPTRE, D.D.,
Wells. With Illustrations, Maps, &c. Four Vols., cloth, 6s. each.

Bible Work at Home and Abroad. Volume. Illustrated. 33.
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress (Cassell's Illustrated). 410. 75. 6d.
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. With Illustrations. Cloth, 33. 6d.
Child's Life of Christ, The. With 200 Illustrations. 2is'.
Child's Bible, The. With 200 Illustrations. 143^ Thousand. 73. 6d.

Dore Bible. With 238 Illustrations by GUSTAVE DOR£. Small folio,

cloth, £8.

Early Days of Christianity, The. By the Ven. Archdeacon FARRAR,
D.D., F.R.S.

LIBRARY EDITION. Two Vols., 243. ; morocco, £2 2s.
POPULAR EDITION. Complete in One Volume, cloth, 6s. ; cloth, gilt
edges, 73. 6d. ; Persian morocco, los. 6d. ; tree-calf, 153.

Family Prayer-Book, The. Edited by Rev. Canon GARBETT, M.A.,

and Rev. S. MARTIN. Extra crown 410, cloth, 53. ; morocco, 183.
Geikie, Cunningham, D.D., 'Works by: —

THE HOLY LAND AND THE BIBLE. A Book of Scripture Illustrations

gathered in Palestine. Two Vols., demy 8vo, with Map. 243.
HOURS WITH THE BIBLE. Six Vols., 6s. each.
ENTERING ON LIFE. 33. 6d.
THE PRECIOUS PROMISES. 2s. 6d.
THE ENGLISH REFORMATION. 53.
OLD TESTAMENT CHARACTERS. 6s.

THE LIFE AND WORDS OF CHRIST. Illustrated Edition — Two Vols.,
303. ; Library Edition— Two Vols., 305. ; Students' Edition—
Two Vols., 163. ; Cheap Edition— One. Vol., 73. 6d.

Glories of the Man of Sorrows, The. Sermons preached at St. James's,
Piccadilly. By Rev. H. G. BONAVIA HUNT, Mus.D., F.R.S., Ed. 2s. 6d.

Gospel of Grace, The. By a LINDESIE. Cloth, 33. 6d.

" Heart Chords." A Series of Works by Eminent Divines. Bound in
cloth, red edges, One Shilling each.

My Father.
My Bible.
My Work for God.
My Object in Life.

My Aspirations.

My Emotional Life.

My Body.

My Soul.

My Growth in Divine Lite.

My Hereafter.
My Walk with God.
My Aids to the Divine Life.
My Sources of Strength.

Helps to Belief. A Series of Helpful Manuals on the Religious
Difficulties of the Day. Edited by the Rev. TEIGNMOUTH SHORE, M.A.,
Chaplain-in-Ordinary to the Queen. Cloth, is. each.

CREATION. By the Lord Bishop of
Carlisle.

THE DIVINITY OF OUR LORD. By
the Lord Bishop of Derry.

THE MORALITY OF THE OLD TESTA-
MENT. By the Rev Newman
Smyth, D.D.

MIRACLES. By the Rev. Brownlow
Maitland, M.A.

PRAYER. By the Rev. T. Teignmouth
Shore, M.A.

THE ATONEMENT. By he Lord Bishop

of Peterborough.

3 B. 7.88

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

I Must. Short Missionary Bible Readings. By SOPHIA M. NUGENT.
Enamelled covers, 6d. ; cloth, gilt edges, is.

Life of Christ, The. -By the Yen. Archdeacon FARRAR, D.D., F.R.S.
ILLUSTRATED EDITION, with about 300 Original Illustrations.

Extra crown 410, cloth, gilt edges, 2is. ; morocco antique, 423.
LIBRARY EDITION. Two Vols. Cloth, 243. ; morocco, 425.
POPULAR EDITION, in One Vol. 8vo, cloth, 6s. ; cloth, gilt edges,

73. 6d. ; Persian morocco, gilt edges, los. 6d. ; tree-calf, 153.

Luther, Martin : His Life and Times. By PETER BAYNE, LL.D.
Two Vols., demy 8vo, 1,040 pages. Cloth, 243.

Marriage Ring, The. By WILLIAM LANDELS, D.D. Bound in white

leatherette, gilt edges, in box, 6s. ; French morocco, 8s. 6d.
Moses and peology ; or, The Harmony of the Bible with Science.

By the Rev. SAMUEL KINNS, Ph.D., F.R.A.S. Illustrated. Cheap

Edition, 6s.
New Testament Commentary for English Readers, The. Edited

by the Rt. Rev. C. J. ELLICOTT,. D.D., Lord Bishop of Gloucester

and Bristol. In Three Volumes, 2is. each.

Vol. I.— The Four Gospels.

Vol. II. — The Acts, Romans, Corinthians, Galatians.

Vol. III. — The remaining Books of the New Testament.

Old Testament Commentary for English Readers, The. Edited
by the Right Rev. C. J. ELLICOTT, D.D., Lord Bishop of Gloucester
and Bristol. Complete in 5 Vols., 2is. each.

Vol. I. — Genesis to Numbers.
Vol. II. — Deuteronomy to
Samuel II.

Vol. III.— Kings I. to Esther.

Vol. IV.-Job to Isaiah.

Vol. V. —Jeremiah to Malachi.

Protestantism, The History of. By the Rev. J. A. WYLIE, LL.D.
Containing upwards of 600 Original Illustrations Three Vols. , gs. each.

Quiver Yearly Volume, The. 250 high-class Illustrations. 73. 6d.

Religion, The Dictionary of. By the Rev. W. BENHAM, B.D. 2is. ;
Roxburgh, 253.

St. George for England ; and other Sermons preached to Children. By

the Rev. T. TEIGNMOUTH SHORE, M.A. 55.

St. Paul, The Life and Work of. By the Ven. Archdeacon FARRAR,
D.D., F.R.S., Chaplain-in-Ordinary to the Queen.

LIBRARY EDITION. Two Vols., cloth, 243. ; calf, 423.
ILLUSTRATED EDITION, complete in One Volume, with about 300

Illustrations, £i is. ; morocco, £2 2s.
POPULAR EDITION. One Volume, 8vo, cloth, 6s. ; cloth, gilt edges,

75. 6d. ; Persian morocco, los. 6d. ; tree-calf, 158.

Secular Life, The Gospel of the. Sermons preached at Oxford. By
the Hon. W. H. FREMANTLE, Canon of Canterbury. 55.

Shall We Know One Another? By the Rt. Rev. J. C RYLE, D.D.,
Bishop of Liverpool. New and Enlarged Edition. Cloth limp, is.

Twilight of Life, The. Words of Counsel and Comfort for the
Aged. By the Rev. JOHN ELLERTON, M.A. is. 6d.

Voice of Time, The. By JOHN STROUD. Cloth gilt, is.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

(Btmcatiottal Works atttr Jltu&ettts' Iftamtals.

Alphabet, Cassell's Pictorial. 35. 6d.

Arithmetics, The Modern School. By GEORGE RICKS, B.Sc. Lond.
With Test Cards. (List on application.')

Book-Keeping. By THEODORE JONES. For Schools, as. ; cloth, 35.
For the Million, 2s. ; cloth, 33. Books for Jones's System, as.

Chemistry, The Public School. By J. H. ANDERSON, M.A. as. 6d.

Commentary, The New Testament. Edited by the Lord Bishop of
GLOUCESTER and BRISTOL. Handy Volume Edition.
St. Matthew, 35. 6d. St. Mark, 33. St. Luke, 33. 6d. St. John,
33. 6d. The Acts of the Apostles, 33. 6d. Romans, as. 6d. Corinthians
I. and II. ,33. Galatians, Ephesians, and Philippians, 33. Colossians,
Thessalonians, and Timothy, 33. Titus, Philemon, Hebrews, and
James, 33. Peter, Jude, and John, 33. The Revelation, 33. An
Introduction to the New Testament, 3S. 6d.

Commentary, Old Testament. Edited by Bishop ELLICOTT. Handy
Volume Edition. Genesis, 35. 6d. Exodus, 3S. Leviticus, 33.
Numbers, as. 6d. Deuteronomy, as. 6d.

Copy-Books, Cassell's Graduated. Eighteen Books, ad. each.

Copy-Books, The Modern School. Twelve Books, ad. each.

Drawing Copies, Cassell's " New Standard." Fourteen Books.
Books A to F for Standards I. to IV., ad. each. Books G, H, K, L,
M, O, for Standards V. to VII., 3d. each. Books N and P, 4d. each.

Drawing Copies, Cassell's Modern School Freehand. First Grade,
is. ; Second Grade, as.

Electricity, Practical. By Prof. W. E. AYRTON. ys. 6d.

Energy and Motion: A Text-Book of Elementary Mechanics.
By WILLIAM PAICE, M.A. Illustrated, is. 6d.

English Literature, First Sketch of, New and Enlarged Edition.
By Prof. MORLEY. 73. 6d.

English Literature, The Story of. By ANNA BUCKLAND. Cloth
boards, 33. 6d.

Euclid, Cassell's. Edited by Prof. WALLACE, M.A.' is.

Euclid, The First Four Books of. In paper, 6d. ; cloth, gd.

Experimental Geometry, Elements of. By PAUL BERT. Fully Illus-
trated, is. 6d.

French Reader, Cassell's Public School. By GUILLAUME S.
CONRAD, as. 6d.

French, Cassell's Lessons in. New and Re-vised Edition. Parts I.
and II., each as. 6d. ; complete, 43. 6d. Key, is. 6d.

French-English and English-French Dictionary. Entirely New
and Enlarged Edition. 1,150 pages, 8vo, cloth, 33. 6d.

Galbraith and Haughton's Scientific Manuals. By the Rev. Prof.
GALBRAITH, M.A., and the Rev. Prof. HAUGHTON, M.D., D.C.L.
Arithmetic, 33. 6d. — Plane Trigonometry, as. 6d. — Euclid, Books I.,
II., III., as. 6d.TBooks IV., V., VI., as. 6d.— Mathematical Tables,
33. 6d. — Mechanics, 35. 6d.— Natural Philosophy, 35. 6d. — Optics,
as. 6d. — Hydrostatics, 33. 6d. — Astronomy, 53.— Steam Engine, 33. 6d.
—Algebra, Part I., cloth, as. 6d. ; Complete, 73. 6d.— Tides and Tidal
Currents, with Tidal Cards, 33.

German-English and English-German Dictionary. 35. 6d.

German Reading, First Lessons in. By A. JAGST. Illustrated, is.

German of To-Day . By Dr. HEINEMANN. is. 6d.

Handbook of New Code of Regulations. By JOHN F. Moss. is.

Historical Cartoons, Cassell's Coloured. Size 45 in. x 35 in., as.
each. Mounted on canvas and varnished, with rollers, 53. each.

Historical Course for Schools, Cassell's. Illustrated throughout.
I.— Stories from English History, is. II.— The Simple Outline of
English History, is. 3d. III.— The Class History of England, as. 6<L

Selections from Cassell $ Compan^s Publications.

Latin-English Dictionary, Cassell's. By J. R. V. MARCHANT, M.A.
35. 6d.

Latin-English and English-Latin Dictionary. By J. R. BEARD,
D.D., and C. BEARD, B.A. Crown 8vo, 914 pp., 3s. 6d.

Latin Primer, The New. By Prof. J. P. POSTGATE. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.

Laws of Every-Day Life. By H. O. ARNOLD-FORSTER. is. 6d.

Little Folks' History of England. By ISA CRAIG-KNOX. Illustrated.
is. 6d.

Making of the Home, The : A Book of Domestic Economy for School
and Home Use. By Mrs. SAMUEL A. BARNETT. is. 6d.

Marlborough Books :— Arithmetic Examples, 33. Arithmetic Rules,
is. 6d. French Exercises, 33. 6d. French Grammar, 2s. 6d. German
Grammar, 33. 6d.

Mechanics and Machine Design, Numerical Examples in Practical.
By R. G. ELAINE, M.E. With Diagrams. Cloth, zs. 6d.

Music, An Elementary Manual of. By HENRY LESLIE, is.

Popular Educator, Cassell's. Complete in Six Vols., 55. each.

Readers, Cassell's "Higher Class." "The World's Lumber-room.'
Illustrated. 2s. 6d.—" Short Studies from Nature." Illustrated. 2S. 6d.
— " The World in Pictures." Ten in Series. Cloth, 23. each.

Readers, Cassell's Readable. Carefully graduated, extremely in-
teresting, and illustrated throughout. (List on application.)

Readers, Cassell's Historical. Illustrated throughout, printed on
superior paper, and strongly bound in cloth. (List on application.)

Readers for Intant Schools, Coloured. Three Books. Each con-
taining 48 pages, including 8 pages in colours. 4d. each.

Reader, The Citizen. By H. O. ARNOI.D-FORSTER. Illustrated, is. 6d.

Readers, The " Modern School " Geographical. (List on application.)

Readers, The " Modern School." Illustrated. (List on application.)

Reading and Spelling Book, Cassell's Illustrated, is.

School Bank Manual. By AGNES LAMBERT. Price 6d.

Shakspere's Plays for School Use. 5 Books. Illustrated, 6d. each.

Shakspere Reading Book, The. By H. COURTHOPE BOWEN, M.A.
Illustrated. 33. 6d. Also issued in Three Books, is. each.

Slojd : as a Means of Teaching the Essential Elements of Education. By
EMILY LORD. 6d.

Spelling, A Complete Manual of. By J. D. MORELL, LL.D. is.

Technical Manuals, Cassell's. Illustrated throughout : —

Handrailing and Staircasing, 33. 6d. — Bricklayers, Drawing for, 33. —
Building Construction, 2s. — Cabinet-Makers, Drawing for, 33. — Car-
penters and Joiners, Drawing for, 33. 6d. — Gothic Stonework, 33.
— Linear Drawing and Practical Geometry, 2s. — Linear Drawing and
Projection. The Two Vols. in One, 33. 6d. — Machinists and Engineers,
Drawing for, 43. 6d. — Metal-Plate Workers, Drawing for, 33. — Model
Drawing, 33. — Orthographical and Isometrical Projection, 2s. — Practical
Persp, ' ~ ~ ' ' ' " ' " ' '

by Sir

Technical Educator, Cassell's. New Edition, in Four Vols., 55

Technology, Manuals of. Edited by Prof. AYRTON, F.R.S., and
RICHARD WORMELL, D.Sc., M.A. Illustrated throughout : —
The Dyeing of Textile Fabrics, by Prof. Hummel, 55.— Watch and
Clock Making, by D. Glasgow, 43. 6d.— Steel and Iron, by Prof. W. H.
Greenwood, F.C.S., M.I.C.E., &c., 53.— Spinning Woollen and
Worsted, by W. S. B. McLaren, M.P., 43. 6d.— Design in Textile
Fabrics, by T. R. Ashenhurst, 48. 6d. — Practical Mechanics, by Prof.
Perry, M.E., 33. 6d. — Cutting Tools Worked by Hand and Machine,
by Prof. Smith, 33. 6d. A Prospectus on application.

Test Cards, " Modern School," Cassell's. In Sets, for each Stan
dard. is. each. With Mental Arithmetic on reverse side.

Test Cards, Cassell's Combination. In sets, is. each.

CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, Ludgate Hill, London.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publications.

j!00ks for

"Little Folks" Half-Yearly Volume. Containing 432 4to pages

with about 200 Illustrations, and Pictures in Colour. Boaftis, 33. 6d. ;

or cloth gilt, 55.
Bo-Peep. A Book for the Little Ones. With Original Stories and Verses.

Illustrated throughout. Yearly Volume. Boards, 2s. 6d. ; cloth

gilt, 33. 6d.

Legends for Lionel. New Picture Book by WALTER CRANE. 53.
Flora's Feast. A Masque of Flowers. Penned and Pictured by WALTER

CRANE. With 40 Pages in Colours. 53.

Every-day Heroes. By LAURA LANE. Illustrated. Cloth, as. 6d.
The New Children's Album. Fcap. 410, 320 pages. Illustrated

throughout. 33. 6d.
The Tales of the Sixty Mandarins. By P. V. RAMASWAMI RAJU.

With an Introduction by Prof. HENRY MORLEY. Illustrated. 53.
The World's Lumber Room. By SELINA GAVE. as. 6d.
Books for Young People. Illustrated. Cloth gilt, 53. each.

The Palace Beautiful. By L. T.

Meade.
The King's Command : A Story

for Girls. By Maggie Symington.
For Fortune and Glory : A Story

of the Soudan War. By Lewis

Hough.
" Follow My Leader ;" or, The

Boys of Templeton.

Talbot Baines Keed.

By

Under Bayard's Banner. By Henry

Frith.
The Romance of Invention. By

James Burnley.
The Champion of Odin ; or. Viking

Life in the Days of Old. By j!

Fred. Hodgetts.
Bound by a Spell ; or, The Hunted

"Witch of the Forest. By the

Hon. Mrs. Greene.

Books for Young People. Illustrated. Price 35. 6d. each.

The Cost of a Mistake. By Sarah
Pitt.

A World of Girls : The Story of
a School. By L. T. Meade.

Lost among "White Africans:
A Boy's Adventures on the
Upper Congo. By David Ker.

Freedom's Sword : A Story of
the Days of Wallace and
Bruce. By Annie S. Swan.

The "Cross and Crown" Series.

incidents which occurred durin

Days. With Illustrations in eac
Strong to Suffer: A Story of

the Jews. By E. Wynne.
Heroes of the Indian Empire:

or, Stories of Valour and

Victory. ByErnest Foster.
In Letters of Flame : A Story

of the Waldenses. By C. L,

Mateaux.
Through Trial to Triumph. By

On Board the "Esmeralda;" or,

Martin Leigh's Log. By John C.

Hutcheson.
In Quest of Gold; or, Under the

Whanga Falls. By Alfred St.

Johnston.
For Queen and King; or.The Loyal

'Prentice. By Henry Frith.
Perils Afloat and Brigands Ashore.

By Alired Elwes.

Consisting of Stories founded on

g Religious Persecutions of Past
:h Book. 2s. 6d. each.

By Fire and Sword: A Story of
the Huguenots. By Thomas
Archer.

Adam Hepburn's Vow: A Tale of
Kirk and Covenant. By Annie
S. Swan.

No. XIII.; or. The Story of the
Lost Vestal. A Tale of Early
Christian Days. By Emma Mar-
shall.

"Golden Mottoes" Series, The. Each Book containing 208 pages, with

Four full-page Origin.il Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 2s. each.

" Nil Desperandum." By tl

Rev. F. Langbridge, M.A.

"Bear and Forbear." By Sarah

Pitt.
"Foremost if I Can." By Helen

Atteridge.

The "Log Cabin" Series. By EDWARD S.ELLIS. With Four Full-

page Illustrations in each. Crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d. each.
The Lost Trail. | Camp-Fire and Wigwam. | Footprints in the Forest.

" Honour is my Guide." By Jeanie

Hering (Mrs. Adams-Acton).
"Aim at a Sure End." By Emily

Searchfield.
" He Conquers who Endures." By

the Author of " May Cunningham's

Trial, "&c.

Selections from Cassell $ Company's Publication*.

Cassell's Picture Story Books. Each containing Sixty Pages of
Pictures and Stories, &c. 6d. each.

Little Talks.
Bright Stars.
Nursery Toys.
Pet's Posy.
Tiny Tales.

Daisy's Story Book.
Dot's Story Book.
A Nest of Stories.
Good-Night Stories.
Chats for Small Chatterers.

Auntie's Stories.
Birdie's Story Book.
Little Chimes.
A Sheaf of Tales.
Dewdrop Stories.

Cassell's Sixpenny Story Books. All Illustrated, and containing
Interesting Stories by well-known writers.

The Smuggler's Cave.

Little Lizzie.

Little Bird, Life and Adven-

tures of.
Luke Barnicott.

The Boat Club.
Little Pickles.
The Elchester College Boys
My First Cruise.
The Little Peacemaker.
The Delft Jug.

Surly Bob.

The Giant's Cradle.

3hag and Doll.

iunt

Cassell's Shilling Story Books. All Illustrated, and containing Interest-
ing Stories.
Bunty and the Boys.
The Heir of Elmdale.
The Mystery at Shoncliff

School.
Claimed at Last, and Boy's

Reward.

Thorns and Tangles.
The Cuckoo in the Robin's Nest.
John's Mistake.
The History of Five Little

Pitchers.
Diamonds in the Sand.

Aunt Lucia's Locket.
The Magic Mirror.
The Cost of Revenge.
Clever Frank.
Among the Redskins.
The Ferryman of Brill.
Harry Maxwell.
A Banished Monarch.
Seventeen Cats.

Illustrated Books for the Little Ones. Containing interesting Stories.
All Illustrated, is. each.

Dp and Down the Garden.
AH Sorts of Adventures.
Our Sunday Stories.
Our Holiday Hours.
Indoors and Out.
Some Farm Friends.

The World's Workers. A Ser
With Portraits printed on a ti

The Earl of Shaftesbury. By

Henry Frith.
Sarah Robinson, Agnes Wes-

ton, and Mrs. Meredith. By

E. M. Tomkinson.

Thomas A. Edison and Samuel

F. B. Morse. By Dr. Denslow
and J. Marsh Parker.

Mrs. Somerville and Mary Car-
penter. By Phyllis Browne.

General Gordon. By the Rev.
S. A. Swaine.

Charles Dickens. By his Eldest
Daughter.

Sir Titus Salt and George
Moore. By J.Burnley.

Florence Nightingale, Cather-
ine Marsh, Frances Ridley j
Havergal, Mrs. Ranyard
("L.N.R."). By Lizzie Alldridge. •

Those Golden Sands.

Little Mothers & their Children.

Our Prett.v Pets.

Our Schoolday Hours.

Creatures Tame.

Creatures "Wild.

es of New and Original Volumes,
it as Frontispiece, is. each.

Dr. Guthrie, Father Mat hew,

Elihu Burritt, George Livesey.

Py the Rev. J. W. Kirton.
David Livingstone. By Robert

Smiles.
Sir Henry Havelock and Colin

Campbell, Lord Clyde. By E. C.

Phillips.

Abraham Lincoln. By Ernest Foster.
George Miiller and Andrew Reed.

By E. R. Pitman.

Richard Cobden. By R. Cowing.
Benjamin Franklin. By E. M.

Tomkinson.

Handel. By Eliza Clarke.
Turner the Artist. By the Rev. S. A.

Swaine.
George and Robert Stephenson.

By C. L. Mateaux.

Library of Wonders. Illustrated Gift-books for Boys. Paper, is. ;

cloth, is. 6d.
Wonders of Acoustics.
Wonderful Adventures.
Wonders of Animal Instinct.
Wonders of Architecture.
Wonderful Balloon Ascents.

Wonders of Bodily Strength

and Skill.

Wonderful Escapes.
Wonders of Water.

Selections from Cassell <f- Company's Publications.

The " Proverbs " Series. Original Stones by Popular Authors, founded
on and illustrating well-known Proverbs. With Four Illustrations
in each Book, printed on a tint. is. 6d. each.

Fritters. By Sarah Pitt.

Trixy. By Maggie Symington.

The Two Havdcastles. By Made-
line Bonavia Hunt.

Major Monk's Motto. By the
Rev. F. Langbridge.

Tim Thomson's Trial. By Georg-

Weatherly.
Ursula's Stumbling-Block. By Julia

Goddard.
Ruth's Life-Work. By the Rev.

Joseph Johnson.

Books for Children. In Illuminated boards, fully Illustrated.

I Cheerful Clatter. 3s. 6d.

A Dozen and One. 5s.
I Bible Talks. 5s.

Happy Go Lucky. 2s.
Daisy Blue Eyes. 2s.
Twilight Fancies. 2s. 6d.

Cassell's Eighteenpenny Story Books. Illustrated.

Wee Willie Winkie.

Ups and Downs of a Donkey's

Life.

Three Wee Ulster Lassies.
Up the Ladder.

Dick's Hero; and other Stories.
The Chip Boy.
Raggles, Baggies, and the

Emperor.
Roses from Thorns.

Sunday School Reward Books.
Original Illustrations in each.

Seeking a City.

Rhoda's Reward; or, "If

Wishes were Horses."
Jack Marston's Anchor.
Frank's Life-Battle ; or, The

Three Friends.

Faith's Father.

By Land and Sea.

The Young Berringtons.

Jeff and Leff.

Tom Morris's Error.

Worth more than Gold.

"Through Flood— Through Fire;

and other Stories.
The Girl with the Golden Locks.
Stories of the Olden Time.

By Popular Authors. With Four
Cloth gilt, is. 6d. each.

Rags and Rainbows: A Story of

Thanksgiving.
Uncle William's Charges ; or, The

Broken Trust.
Pretty Pink's Purpose; or,
Little Street Merchants.

The

Cassell's Two-Shilling Story Books. Illustrated.

Stories of the Tower.

Mr. Burke's Nieces.

May Cunningham's Trial.

The Top of the Ladder: How to

Little Flotsam. [Reach it.

Madge and Her Friends.

The Children of the Court.

A Moonbeam Tangle.

Maid Marjory.

Peggy, and other Tales.

School

The Four Cats of the Tippertons.
Marion's Two Homes.
Little Folks' Sunday Book.
Two Fourpenny Bits.
Poor Nelly.
Tom Heriot.

Through Peril to Fortune.
Aunt Tabitha's Waifs.
In Mischief Again.
The Magio Flower Pot.
Girls.

The "Great River" Series (uniform with the "Log Cabin" Series).
By EDWARD S. ELLIS. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, cloth, bevelled
boards, 25. 6d. each.

Down the Mississippi. | Lost in the Wilds.

Up the Tapajos ; or, Adventures in Brazil.

The " Boy Pioneer" Series. By EDWARD S. ELLIS. With Four Full-
page Illustrations in each Book. Crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d. each.

A Tale of Indian

Ned on the River-
River Warfare.

Ned in the Woods. A Tale of I
Early Days in the West. |

Ned in the Block House. A Story of Pioneer Life in Kentucky.

The "World in Pictures.'

A Ramble Round France.
All the Russias.
Chats about Germany.
The Land of the Pyramids
(Egyptj.

Illustrated throughout. 2s. 6d. each.

The Eastern Wonderland (Japan).
Glimpses of South America.
Hound Alrica.

The Land of Temples (India).
The Isles of the Pacific.

Peeps into China.

Selections from Cassell & Company's Publications

Half-Crown Story Books.
Little Hinges.
Margaret's Enemy.
Pen's Perplexities.
Notable Shipwrecks.
Golden Days.

Wonders of Common Things.
Truth will Out.
At the South tole.

Soldier and Patriot (George "Wash-
ington).
Picture of School Life and Boy-

The Young Man in the Battle of
Life. By the Rev. Dr. Landels.

The True Glory of Woman. By the
Rev. Dr. Landels.

Three and Sixpenny Library of Standard Tales, &c. All Illus-
trated and bound in cloth gilt. Crown 8vo. 3S. 6d. each.
The Half Sisters.
Peggy Oglivie's Inheritance.
The Family Honour.
Esther West.
Working to Win.
Krilof and his Fables. By W. R. S.

Jane Austen and her Works.
Mission Life in Greece and

Palestine.

The Romance of Trade.
The Three Homes.
Deepdale Vicarage.
In Duty Bound.

Ralston, M.A.
Fairy Tales. By Prof. Morley.

The Home Chat Series. All Illustrated throughout. Feap. 410.

Boards, 35. 6d. each. Cloth, gilt edges, 58. each.
Half-Hours with Early Ex- I Paws and Claws.

plorers. Home Chat.

Decisive Events in History. | Peeps Abroad for Folks at Home.

Around and About Old England.
Books for the Little Ones.

The Merry-go-Round. Poems for

Children. Illustrated. 5s.
Rhymes for the Young Folk.
> By William Allingham. Beautifully

Illustrated. 3s. 6d.
The Little Doings of some

Little Folks. By Chatty Cheer-
ful. Illustrated. 5s.
The Sunday Scrap Book. With

One Thousand Scripture Pictures.

Boards, 5s.; cloth, 7s. 6d.
Daisy Dimple's Scrap Book.

Containing about i.ooo Pictures.

Boards, 5s.; cloth gilt, 7s. 6d.
The History Scrap Book: With

nearly 1,000 Engravings; 5s.;

cloth, 7s. 6d.
Little Folks' Picture Album.

With 168 Large Pictures. 5s.
Little Folks' Picture Gallery.

With 150 Illustrations. 5s.
Books for Boys.

The Black Arrow. A Tale of

the Two Roses. By R. L.

Stevenson. 5s.
Commodore Junk. By G. Man-

villeFenn. 5s.
A Queer Race. By W. Westall.

Dead Man's Rock. A Romance.
ByQ. 5s.

The Phantom City. By W. Wes-
tall. 5s.

Captain Trafalgar : A Story of the
Mexican Gulf. By Westall and
Laurie. Illustrated. 5s.

Kidnapped. By R. L. Stevenson.
Illustrated. 5s.

The Old Fairy Tales. With Original

Illustrations. Boards, Is.; cloth,

Is. 6d.
My Diary. With 12 Coloured Plates

and 366 Woodcuts. Is.
Sandford and Merton: In Words of

One Syllable. Illustrated. 2s. 6d.
The Story of Robin Hood. With

Coloured Illustrations. 2s. 6d.
The Pilgrim's Progress. With

Coloured Illustrations. 2s. 6d.
Wee Little Rhymes. Is. 6d.
Little One's Welcome. Is. 6d.
Little Gossips. Is. 6d.
Ding Dong Bell. Is. 6d.
Good Times. Is. 6d.
Jolly Little Stories. Is. 6d.
Daisy Dell's Stories. Is. 6d.
Our Little Friends. Is. 6d.
Little Toddlers. Is. 6d.

King Solomon's Mines. By H. Rider
Haggard. Illustrated. 5s.

Treasure Island. By R. L. Ste-
venson. Illustrated. 5s.

Ships, Sailors, and the Sea. By
R. J. Cornewall-Jones. Illustrated. 5s.

Modern Explorers. By Thomas Frost.
Illustrated. 5s.

Famous Sailors of Former Times.
By Clements Markham. Illustrated.

Wild'Adventures in Wild Places.
By Dr. Gordon Stables, R.N. Illus-
trated. 5s.

Jungle, Peak, and Plain. By Dr.
Gordon Stables, R.N. Illustrated. 5s.

Cassell & Company's Complete Catalogue will be sent post

free on application to
CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, Ludgatc Hill. London.

7