THE MYSTERY OF WHIGHAM HALL.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 6089, 22 December 1906, Page 6

THE MYSTERY OF WHIGHAM HALL.

(By May Bateman.)

"So I’m a pauper!” concluded Lady Lindsay gaily. I Jim Tiiorold, looked at her steadily for a moment,, but said nothing. There are men whoso sijont l promises of help are worth more than a written agree* monti. Verbally they commit themselves to nothing, but friend or foe can alike rely upon their unalterable; purposes.

However anxious wo may bo to heal' each other’s’ burdens, there one occasions on which, being paupers’ our* solves! wo arc useless. I spent the next minute in wondering how I could possibly earn another fifty pounds & year at my journalistic work. , < Pearl divined tho thought and ehoolf her head without a word. “You might have taken it from mo,’ 4 I . said reproachfully. . . . “Only I haven’t got it to offer.” The conclusion was lame; we hot!S laughed. Frail though she was, Pearl Lindsay was of the nature which, pro. fers to win through troubles single, handed. The romantic story of her sadden and unexpected accession to it fortune and a;title had electrified tho world only two seasons ago. Ji, was now to hear the extent of her no lose sensational losses. At the moment, t doubt if any other than the solicitors who had advised her so ill, and w 9 two, had any. conception of how mot»r tors stood.

‘•My jewels .will be sold next weeh at Christie’s,” said Pearl, ticking off the items on her fingers. “They should realise enough to clear all my out*.' standing debts. Upstairs I have”—• she considered gravely—“twenty-sis pounds two shillings and fouxpenoa three farthings in solid cash. That’ll something, isn’t itP And then there! are three thousand pounds invested in. Consols at two or two and a hah* per cent.” “From twenty thousand pounds Hi year to about as” many pence is a drop lor even the most courageous," Thorold suggested. . Pearl "knitted her brows. “1 don’t know why it doesn’t upset me more," she admitted frankly.. “It should, 1 suppose. But it’s only a question of doing without, isn’t itP Lkxu’t, poo pin do without every day? And bosidee—' I forget—Cher's Whigham,” , “Whigham Hall, do you meanP” If asted:. “An old Elizabethan manorhouse with a few hundred acres or sji of uncultivated land adjoining. Wasn’t there some tragedy there?” Thorold frowned. “Never mind what Mr Thorold—doesn’t say I” said Pearl. “Toll mo the story. X insist.” “There’s not much to •tell. Mini Monok, the wife of the late owner, was a complete invalid. She .'never, lofti her bed. There was a hospital nurse, in attendance upon her night and day. One day the nurse left her to fetch some . missing article., Mb# Monok was in her customary health. The hour waa twelve midday. As shim crossed tho ■ hall she heard her mistress’s bell ring violently, twice ia succession. She ran up again-- a* quickly as possible. The other aesv vante, terrified by tho prolonged sound of the bell, followed her. V y came to Mrs Mpnok’s room, they found Her lying upon the floor, huddled up and helpless. It looked as'though she had been thrown out of the bod. But there was nobody else on that side of the house. , The clothes wore disor-dered-torn tight away from the foot of the bed—but otherwise the room was undisturbed.; and the window, which was sixty feet from the ground, waa not open.” . ',' - “She.- was dead P' 1 ’ asked Pearl breathlessly. j i ■■ - . "Nearly dead,” , I said slowly. “There was a look of .unaccountable terror on her face hard to explain. The reputation of thd house has been ill since that , time. Queen Elizabeth, once held her Court there, and the villagers boast ol having 'ftt least .one ghost in the neighbourhood. The house was in tho market two years ago, and it was. Said that the owners would lot it go for a song.” , ■■ . ■ “I bought it,” said Pearl quietly. “My lawyer’s . are retting it from mu at the present molnent —at'a nominal rent, naturally. Nobody else oven made mo. an offer.” . Thorold looked Luji. • . . . “Personally I haven’t much faith in the philanthropy of a firm which hag already played, such havoc with ita client’s interests. If it is hot an impertinent question, . may 1 ask what pneo you are getting?” , Pearl flushed. ‘Twenty pounds a year, I think. They only took it out of’kindness, remember.” ■ , /: “Your , kindness!” , Thorold suggested quietly, rising to say “Good-byo.’ 11. To announce'.that* you have lost a. considerable part of your fortune it sensibly to diminish the number of your callera—to lose it all -is almost to decimate your visiting-list.. The world found a difficulty in reconcilifag its memories of the most popular heiress of the year with » penniless giri. Many of Pearl’s ’“friends” proceeded to obliterate her image from the social landscape. • .Lady Lindsay’s good heart saved her from becoming bitter in the _ forthcoming days of disillusion. Not all her whilom acquaintances played her false. Some faced the. problem of her future not merely' with wisdom, but devotion. ■ . -

, Foremost amongst these was Jim Thorold, who suggested that temporarily, at least, Pearl should live ait Whigham; to do so would at onoi aim a death Wow at the ghost myth. ■The twenty pounds, a year which the Hurrams, Pearl’s (solicitors. paid her as a nominal rent would scarcely provide her with.a bed-sitting rJjpm in town; Living -was cheap in Meishire—country life suited her. slip could furnish three of four rooms: in the more modern part of flic hall, and live there with, her dog and her maid in .conn, parative comfort for a minimum of expense.' Her. -lawyers were yearly tenants—thcre .were barely - three months of thoit present tcmilicy to run; they would of course be willing to .meet her half-way under the circumstances, Pearl could fill up'the time by paying •visits. '", V ' " ; r;

But an unexpected element; intervened in the shape of the very force whose existence Thcrold domed—the supernatural. ' About this time the; rumours .about Vvlriilmm Hall bccfimo definite■ iint'i.'.d n>f .tlhwory- Things word'beard, litii-'O’ ir.-r-; 'rifceu. llnmrm vneanv mid a .v, v.vrr uakkru iv-ue- froiiv,, ■the'.vicinity- of the cuwcf-;-'; he acwittcrl wiiig'- cf the Ihrcic. •• Id-jm ' entered % the, irimafe-j. d.Tm-- •mvit’T'y sf She hull•wins'tJio- be . ■ village five; brave ar dr - i.pinas -r.rr- to" .exploit the Park, at nigbi. only, to come hack primed with’ fv.Pi .tales., , Even Mr Jlnrram r;:p!ur, ;w!ik;{: very prcvcnca v.;:s a guarantee of icspacia-

bility and good faith, admitted, when pressed, that things worts reuhy "beyond explanation.”

"I am reluctantly compelled to belio,-. that there are some potent p-rws.uo forces engager 1 ,” In- !i.-,4iin«i jior solemnly. “Wo are men, and may surely put up with some slight inconvenience for such a client's sake. But the idea of your following your Srioncl’o advice, and living at the Hall, fills us with the very gravest apprehension.” “Both members of Iho firm arc equally good to me,” said Pearl, recounting tho incident. “They have even asked mo to stay at Wlngliam—when next their married sister can act as ray chaperon. Then 1 shall bo able to see if 1 really can stand it.” Jim Thorold’s misgivings had impressed rao, and I shook my head. ■When you do make up your mind to go, lot rao como too,” X said. "Mystonce and adventures arc part of my stock-in-trade, as you know, and battles with tho supernatural have not a.'i yet conic in my way.” 111. “L’hommo propose; Diou dispose. I loft Pearl Lindsay at 5.30 p.m. on Thursday evening; at 7 a.in. on the following Saturday morning I stepped out of tho train at Moscow. The "trick of tongues” to winch 1 owe my employment as a journalistic ’‘froelanco” has been tiic cause of many such sudden calls, resulting in more or less interesting—and sometimes rather painful—experiences, sonic of which have, for official reasons, still cu bo kept secret. , , Tho interest in tho missing Prince of tho Farneso had hardly tiled down when attention was transferred to the equally sudden if less notorious disappearance of Miss hairless. She was a young Knglisn governess, singularly friendless and poor, upon whom a stroke of remarkable good luck had fallen. While traveling with her pupils upon tho Continent, sho met a rich and noble Hussiun lady who bribed Miss, Fairless’s former employers hoavily in order that tho girl might enter her service as companion. Miss Painless accepted tho olfcr joyfully, ond tha two ladies travelled largely for three months, when Princess Ozzllitsky siidden.y diet!, leaving her entire fortune, which amounted to some eight hundred thousand pounds of English money, to the girl. While staying in Moscow, Miss FairJess had met the younger Mr Hurram and his clerical uncle, and hearing that Mr Hurram senior was a solicitor, she put her affairs into their hands, tier only surviving relative was a brother—a man suspected by tho Foreign Office of being a spy in llussian employ. ISlic had no friends, and had hardly one bowing acquaintance in London, anti the Xiurrums took her ns much under their wing as was possible under the circumstances, finally installing her at Brown’s Hotel with a maid.

Ono morning in May, three -weeks before liny Russian visa, Miss Fan-less drove clmvu to tho Hurrinu's office to sign some necessary deeds, and mentioned incidentally that slic intended going abroad with a friend for a lew Hays, .or Hurram, Mara of tho i.iintations of her acquaintance, naturaiii asked tho name of her companion; but tho lady did not answer, and even appeared to resent tho question. From tho ollioo in New Square, Miss Fairloss went on to’the bank, where the cashier in attendance upon her noticed her agitation ns ho gave her noted in exchange for her cheque of ItiOO—notes wliicli wore circulated in London (mostly through Cook’s agencies by persons of vary mg descriptions; that same night. From tho bank, Miss Fairlcss drove back to Brown’s. She left the hotel at 11 p.m. with her maid: tho latter Ivas carrying a small black reticule bag, aa usual. From that time to the date of her leaving England neither woman had been seen. Tho manager of Brown’s Hotel; finding that tho two did not return, communicated with Miss Fairlcss s solicitors, as being the lady’s only visitors, and tho firm advertised in tho daily papers and ottered largo sums for news of the missing gin and her maid, with no result. Tho “Daily Speed” always anxious to bo first in the held with its news, ottered to double my usual terms if I would leave England at once and follow up a suspected duo in Russia, giving no hint of my wliereabouts. I went at once,, but with little hope of running my quarry to earth. To foil a Russian on lus .own ground \rgncs a display of resource of which .1 am utterly incapable. But fate played into my bands. , A fragmentary conversation, some inquiries at ono or two hotels wuero Miss Fairless had been staying, started mo off on a fresh scout. A servant's gossip did the rest. X returned post haste to England in hot pursuit of an actor in the FairlessOzzilitsky drama whose talents had been hitherto quite unexpected. IV. I reached London the following Tuesday night. My first act on arriving ut my fiat wao to send a district messenger to Pear. Slight as was the Russian clue, an unconscious word from Pearl might serve to strengthen it. In ray diary I jot down from time lo time rough notes on persons who, for some special cause, interest me. Turning CTie pages <A tho book, I found a record of a certain dinner-party of Pearl's where tho Hurrams had been guests. I give the comments as they stood—unpolished. “Hurram senior.—Tall, strongly built, about sixty. White hair, unctuous manner—restless hands and shifting eyes. Made to be led—probably unreliable.” “Hurram junior. Despicable and dissipated.” “Tho Rev. James Hurram.—Working partner of a firm he has ostensibly no business connection with, I fancy. Haggard face, lantern jaws, very dark. Unusually tall, strong physique, powerful mouth. Salient characteristic, an 'odd impression of being hump-backed for which I can find no physical cause. Ho docs not oven stoop over-much, nor are his shoulders curved. Yet there is an odd, distorted look about ,» figure which, taken in detail. is moulded on unusually powerful lines.” The clock struck eight-thirty. The maid threw open tho door and ushered •In Sarah Hurst, Pearl’s only servant. “Is anything Wrong? Docs her •Lauyship want ms?” 1 f>sk«d quietly. Tha woman smiled. , “It's more my fears for her than Juer fears for herself, miss—not but Ivhat 1 think she. was a bit nervous ut tho last. She isn’t in a fit state to Lattla with anything' extra, so to speak | u t alone ghosts and ghostesses. ‘■ olio as for’ travelling, site’s never even taken a railway ticket for herself before I’It is part of our trade to sift the necessary from the unnecessary in a rambling statement. “She has gone off to Whigham to-day. thciS—and alone?”

"This very day, miss, by the 5.15 train. I think, miss, that her Ladyship would have been glad enough to have mi'---but it was a matter ot expense. 'Wo must be economical even v. lieu v.-e'ro rather frightened, Hurd.,' she said to me—they were her last worm; as she got into the cab; and they've haunted me ever since, miss. ’ "Did any of her friends know she had goue?” “No one, miss. It was arranged by telegram to-day. Mr Hnrram’a married sister bad come up unexpectedly, and they thought it was a good opportunity to invite her Ladyship. ‘Wait for Miss Howard, I took tho liberty ol saying—hut her Ladyship was bent on going, and sho didn’t know whore you were.”

1 took up an “A BC” and looked down tho list of trains. My hat and cloak still lay beside me on the sofa. ‘‘Nine-thirty p.m., Liverpool Street — ton-thirty, Whignam. Due cniud get a trap at tho station, I suppose." X looked at my cash-box —yes, _ 1 had pionty of '.English money. ‘Ti yon tako a hansom homo now, Hurst, you'll iiavc time to throw a few things into a hag and moot mo in time lor the train. We’ll have a look at IV higliam iiall to-night: ami if everything is satisfactory and her Ladyship docs not seem to need us, we U find a lodging somewhere in the village and report oursoivoa to her to-morrow morning. No, X won’t tciegrapn—it's too late, and, on tlio whole, i should prefer our arrival to bo quite unexpected.” VI. Tho mantle of sleep lay heavily upon tho lands. Tlio light of a few pale stars pierced its blackness at intervals. ,1s we wiurkd pas, s,coping pastures and fields, cloudy with the mystery cl iho Unseen, tho terrors of the mgnt crept close and whispered niockmg.y. now the power of the inauimato grips one occasionally! The entirely heaiLiiy-mindeu and normal do not even recogm.se it, but wo Celts respond in every fibre ot our Doings to its finite calls—'calls which make tho desert thrill with the. sound of rushing waters and companion tho solitary watcher of a distant outpost with a million vital memoiics and desires.

Our train was an express, itvory now and then tho scarlet sparks, sweeping swiftly past our window in units, mixed momentarily and merged into a single flame. The shriek of the engine rang in tho stillness of the sleeqiing world like a human cry of warning and of peril.

At /.rciibisiiopslord. Euret recognised a porter friend and took advantage ol tho opportunity of a few minutes conversation. Whe-u she rejoined me, -she looked very- serious. “There’s been terrible doing np (l at tho Hall, miss,” she explained. "Tnat very porter's mother was engaged for a day’s charing on ono occasion. ‘But never no moro if I know it,’ she said altorwards, though the father is paralysed ami she lias to do as beet she can for her young children.” “Why?” “Because of tho awful shrieks, miss. She said no human blood could stand such without turning cold. Shrieks and shrieks again—to vary the monotony, you might say —and always fainter and fainter, as if tho poison who was shrieking gradually lost all hope.'' •’Could she locate tho cries at all?”

“Ma’am? Oh, you mean, cculd she tell where they car.io from? Well, generally from a loft on tho second turn ot tho Tower staircase-—a disused room, if yon choose to call it so, where tho beams are so rotten that no one ever enters it.”

I thought for a moment.. “Did tho porter describe the exact position of the room?” "Uh, ho could find his way there blindfold, miss. The ceiling or tho hall is on a level with tho highest point of the main building. To the extreme right is a spiral staircase. On the first turn of mo staircase a.rc tho rooms where Queen Elizabeth slept. And at tho second turn is the door of the iott, which gives eventually upon the eaves.”

“Tho. beams of the room in the second turn of the staircase arc wormeaten, you sayr “Some workmen who saw it in Mrs Mouckh time say it was quito unsafe, miss. If one of tho rafters gave way, you would fall into tho hall below, a Crop I don’t know how many feet.” "Flitehstead 1 Flitchstead 1”

Sleepy plotters ran to our door—we were tho only passengers alighting. Tho villiago Was a dead-and-alive place with no conveniences. Love and money combined could not produce a trap of any sort. The Hall was four miles distant, we heard—four miles hard, uphill. But a boy would go with us part of tho way as pioneer.

We stood for a moment on the littlo platform looking from ono to tho other. If wo were on a wild-goose chase, how ridiculous our fears would seem' in tho clear light of the morning I But it was too late to turn back nqw. We engaged rooms at the inn, and I left a private message there to say that if we had not returned in three hour’s time, the police were to be called out, and a detachment of helpers sent straight on to tho Han. VII. Nine ten —eleven twelve midnight already, and yvo had only just reached Wigham Hall. During the last half-hour we had scarcely exchanged a word v Bodily X, at least,, was worn out. Every nerve in my body beat like a hammer, at am unexpected sound. Tho mystery of the night itself intensified our inward dread. What lay before us we did not know, but that wq were on our way to a peculiar experience neither doubted. Tho sympathy of a common fear, a common . danger, held our speech in leash.

Ono by ouo I counted up tho links in a chain of evidence all of which pointed surely, certainly to the existence of somo eyil human agency at work in Whigham Hall. Tile clue I had followed in' Russia would have led me infallibly to this spot, whether or no my love lor Pearl had drawn me. So dark it was that wo had to groop our way—often wo stumbled one against the other, and wondered at first if a .stranger had corao between ns. Now and again a night-bird, flying from road to hedge, beat against ns and sent out a stratled cry. In '■ h' still air the cry would carry, _ echoing over fainter and fainter until if mixed with tho innumerable stirs and rustlings of the summsr night. Bailors Us stood a deeper shadow amid the universal darkness*—fin Undipped yow-harge, wud and un-kompt. grown high like a prison wall for want or trimming. I lit a mato,b A tumbled-down lodge was to my right, and before us stretched a wide gravel-patn over-run with feeds, in the Siidst of a tangle' of gross, dank with, moisture.

Wo took two or three stops forward, Tho path—it could scarcely bo called a drive now—doped uphill, coiling like a serpent’s tail past a ribbon of water,

a tiny tributary of tho X Bleak, barren. oesoiato, perched like an eagle’s eyrie upon one of the few hills 111 Merrill ire, Vv higham resisted the four winds of heaven. Some bouses :re almost human in their characters and expeysion. \\ higiiam was sinister. .Seen but partially if filled us with a sense ol chill, of desolation.

There was no light in the house, nor sign of any movement. We skirted it tremblingly. Under its very walls wo could just distinguish the dun shape, of a lower high above us. The stroke of the tower dock clanged menacingly—half past twelve! And then, through the quickened darkness there smote another cry, the cry ot a human being in torture —a cry so terrible,‘so haunting, that I hear it;sometimes now in my dreams, while its memory makes the silence of largo spaces almost unendurable. . . . Tno voice from which it came, changed out of likeness t oitself, yet was horribly fami.iar. We sprang towards it, personal fear overvvnelmed in a nearer dread. Above us, one- on tlio edge of the turret wo saw two white ngurcs struggling, ■lucre was a sickening crash ot s.onowork, another siiducn, suited shriek A light came in a window near —wo saw too reflection of a man’s bent lorm move qu.caiy irom pane to pane. And the next instant, as we stood with outstretched arms in a futile eitort to avert Uio inevitable, two wnumug, twisted bgures, locked in tho embrace, of death, fed heaulong at our feet m tlio tang.ed grass. '

And at auiiost tiio samo moment—thank God! tor what could wo two helpless women have done to help the dying and tno dead in face of invisible enemies ready to overpower us with ail tho implements ol a* terrible ingenuity ready at liana? the merciful clatter ot Horses’ boors rang out upon the gravel, and tho ught of dark lanterns basiling suddenly, disclosed the lull horror oi uio group —a girls form, bathed in blood, clutched even now ill the convulsive pressure of—something that mignt onto have been a woman. iho Flitebstead ponce, owing to a mistake in my message, had forestalled their coming by one hour. VIII. For months Pearl Lindsay’s flickering reason hovered betweep lile and death. Fur months the shadow of that night s experience my upon her, and X doubt if it will bo ever entirely lifted.

But youth and happiness—and a mans unswerving purpose —work wonders. Lome men know how to wait. Tlio told bided Ids time and worked and watc-i.eu, and one day brought hoy pictures of the little villa at Como which was waiting for iier, and told her of tlio sunshine and the love which filled it.

But mng before that time, the mystery of Bingham Hall hud been solved onto anil for all. The price of the Russian journey had not been paid in vain. There are men who arc- bum criminals—others have crime thrust upon them. The Rev. James Hurram belonged to the former type. As a child ho had read littlo but records of crime —amongst his papers were found scrapbooks lull of newspaper cuttings collected since his childhood, and dealing always With undiscovered crimes, or with some strange scientific .discovery, mat he should hr.ro been a clergyman wus tho mere accident of a family living winch poverty drove him to accept. A young cousin paid him a sum down to resign, and induce his beneiactor to hand it over to a worthier member of tho family, and from that time the “Kcv. James” became the “working member” of the firm of Hurram anil Hurram, of New Square. In the unprotected condition of Miss Fairlcss the reverend gentleman saw his chance. For sonic time he had boon carrying on a eocret system of blackmail of such clients as -had entrusted his.brother with affairs of especial delicacy. Tho brothers and nephew played into each others hands, but James was throughout the leader, tho others his tools. For some time tho firm had in view - tho possession of a lonely house, where they, could carry on a moro complicated scheme of terrorism of certain nervous clients. The sale of Whigham Hall—its ghostly reputation—was too good a chance to miss.

Pearl Lindsay’s affairs were on tho brink of ruin when Miss- Fairless put hers into tho hands of the firm. James’s mind at once leapt to the obvious solution of all financial difficulties. Miss Fairlcss and his nephew must marry, and she was to sign r, paper leaving him her fortune. If Miss Fairless objected, sho should bo decoyed to tv liigham—she had already been provided with a maid in Hurram’s pay—where a system of electrical appliances calculated to strike terror into the heart of tho most courageous, would probably bring her to reason. Tho actual abduction was easy enough—a mere question of chloroform in a dark passage—tho maid’s explanation of a fainting woman, and Hurram’s carriage in waiting. The theft of tho notes, too, was easy. But when Miss Fairless came to, and found herself a prisoner, she proved a rebellious subject. Approached- upon the question of her marriage with young Murrain on the morning of her New Square visit, she had firmly declined tho honour, and she was no more amenable st fVhigham. The unearthly sounds, the bells that rang where there were no bolls to be rung, the furniture moved in empty rooms, the candle mysteriously blown out, tho doors whoso keys were taken out mysteriously returned to tho locks, the unseen confederates, the cold currents of air that whistled through the chimneys when there was no wind stirring, tho face at tho window, the raps in the room, tho voices speaking at her bedside—she withstood the whole paraphernalia unmoved, Then force was usedi. She was seized -and bound and concealed in tho lumber-room, where one false step would have sent her to instant death. There, once a day, James Hurram camo to visit her and 'give her her chance of escape—through marriage with his nephew. A special license had been bought—ho was a clergyman, and would marry them. But the girl stood, firm-

When she had become weakened by weeks of agony, worse means were resorted to. Into the diabolical ingenuity of a certain small electric apparatus invented by James Hurram I do not mean to enter. There was no escaping it. AVhat that poor, hunted creature suffered—half starved, with hands bomld, escaping into the furthest corner of that worm-eaten room, yet pursued relentlessly—on» dsres not tn-ink. Her hand*, her nook, her face ittort were burnt with tiny, mi nut® holaa. Meantime Fearl Lmdaay announced that she was determined to live at Vv u.ghaiu.. Thor old backed her steadilv and Thorold’s intentions were _ usually fruitful. James Hurram had just perfected his appliances, and had various projects concerning other ‘•'clients” in, view. To have Whigham at such a moment Would mean tho death-blow to his schemes.

Suddenly he saw a light. Peart must be brought down ana terrorised. Not by the obviously human means—-

sho know too many people. But she was a sensahve girl, and tile snpernmural might succeed where more potent forcer, could not be cmjiloycd. All | l-fiat was wanted in tier case was a dc- ’ ei ;i-:in never again to enter Vthigham. j Tho bells were rung—tho machinery I

set 111 mm ion—enough forces employed to turn a sensitive girls bruin. But Pearl was naturally courageous. And a peculiar note in the shrieks of Miss Fatness, sounding, as they did, lumblv tortured iu the loneliness of tho night, assured her that there was a. tin mail soul in need of help near at hand. She followed tije sounds to their course and unlocked the lumberroom door.

Months passed before we knew for certain what actually happened. How Miss Fairless had, at last, released herself 1 rom her bonds, wo never knew. As Uio door opened, Bearl felt herself seized by terrible arms and drawn across tho shaking piaiiks towards a little gap of light—the tiny window of tho turret." There, and there only, she realised what kind of being held her with the grip of madness. Out on the tottering parapet sho fought wildly lor iife but tlio other dung to her with a. grip that was not human. To the poor, distorted brain it was as though her enemy were at iast delivered into her hands. Tho end camo-T-all too soon. A minute later and Injth might have been saved. Tlio two rolled over the edge locked in each other’s arms, and Miss Fairless herself broke Pearls fall. Bruised and bleeding, the doctor leaning over her found that sljo still lived. But to her companion death had como mercifully as a friend. ill the Asylum at Broadmoor, two brothers and an uncle of tlio same name may bo found. One brother and his son are commonplace enough ‘•'cases”—the other brother is a great scientist! and will talk to you by tho hour of his invention. That is, in intervals of darker moments, when, periodically, he disappears from' tlio everyday life of the asylum,^ The old peculiarity is still his—he lias tho look of a humpbacked man. Or co it seems to me. But when I spoke of it once to tho superintendent o! t.ic asylum, an old friend, he shook his head. "You Celts—or some of you—nave the divining faculty,” ho said. “I my--olf, hare inv own theory on the subject’. And this much is certain. Whore nine men out of ten have tho impression of a man’s physical outline photographed, as it were, upon their retina, the tenth man receives a like impression of the same parson’s moral aspect A warped nature, an abnormal tendency, shows for this tenth man in tlio guise of marked physical dc:oraiitv.”—"Windsor Magazine.”