THE HEROINE OF THE MILL, OR A LANCASHIRE MAN’S REVENGE.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 21, Issue 90, 6 December 1910, Page 7

THE HEROINE OF THE MILL, OR A LANCASHIRE MAN’S REVENGE.

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I ; PART 12. -'-'' . CHAPTER XIV. A. PRINCELY FEAST.— SLIPPERS AND RIOE.— TRAGIC STRUGGLE I . BY THB MOONLIT LAKE. Standing with your face to Bolton Hall the great wing on your left contains two great-apartments. The Srat is the picture gallery, whose Jothic window occupies the whole length of the wing from the ground Jo or upwards. • From the outside that window shows such an abundance of delicate carving in masonry that one cannot help mourning that the age of such work is past. i Mr. Ritchiso'n had chosen this roomi for the wedding breakfast of his daughter, and his choice was a v.lne one, fonno less lofty apartment sould have done justice to the immense silver corner and centre pieces that adorned the tables, which formed three sides of a square, At the extreme ends ofi the tables stood, two uniform silver ornaments, richly embroidered with gold. Each of these formed a candelabrum and spergne and stood over four feet in height. One was surmounted by a figore in gold, representing Commerce, while Agriculture formed the top of :he other.

Every available "coign of vantage" was filled with the richest of hothouse flowers, and the pleasant odours thus procured were enhanced by the sounds of sweet music issuing from an arched doorway, which formed a backing to the centre seat at the table.

The light in the picture gallery was as it should be, mellow and subdued. This made the contrast of the silvery sheen of brilliance that came from beyond that door all the greater. In former days that beautifully-gilded arched chamber had been a chapel, but now it was a billiard-room and private theatre in one. At present the floor on which the tables were fixed had disappeared by an ingenious mechanical contrivance, and another of polished' oak had taken its place.

Here a string band was stationed, and the beautiful strains of music gave a charm that would enrapture the least sympathetic person. We will not endeavour to describe the scene at the banqueting table. To tell you what one gentleman wore would suffice for all; but when you realise that three hundred guests sat down to breakfast you must .conclude that here there were one hundred and fifty ladies, and the admirable blending of colours in the costumes of all the fair ones was only enhanced by the black coats and white ties that divided one dame from the other.

Mrs. Ritchison was one in a thousand. She had the "colour of each lady's dress communicated to her 3ome days before ; and so, when all the gutets were seated as she had arranged, the tout ensemble was simply on artistic triumph.

It is not necessary \o the interest of our story to. enumerate our guests. Suffice it to say that the figures on the candelabra—Commerce and Agriculture—were admirably represented.

| All were happy but Rawdon Ritchison, the giver of the feast. The sword of Damocles was suspended over his devoted head, but none of his guests knew it. Perhaps there was a suspicion of it in Dick's face, ior his laugh was forced and his manner absent.

i The bride's health was proposed, and at a given signal the band struck up Memdelssohn's " Wedding March." When the strains died away Rowley Elliot, the bridegroom replied with emotion—for a lawyer ; and the ladies troop out headed by Mrs. Ritchison whose lace-bordered handkerchief is in constant use. The gentlemen enjoy themselves for a while, until a grand creature in the claret-coloured livery coat of the house, surmounting yellow plush continuations, white silk' stockings and buckled shoes, announces " The carriage 'as come round, sir." Everyone rises and makes for the principal en- 1 trance where the band is now stationed on the lawn.

Marion appears clad in a neat grey travelling dress. Rowley Elliot comes smiling in dust-coat and hat. '< There are more tears and embraces; and at length they enter the travelling carriage as the " Wedding March " again floats sweetly on the gentle breeze.

Pedestrians stop in woiider and admiration on the .highway—,the gardeners at work join the 1 picturesque group of domestics at the wing nearest the servants' hall. Labourers in the far-off fields lean upon their picks and spades and wipe their perspiring brows, and the birds sing paeans of praise to the Power that gave us this beautiful world and the world's chiefest joy—love.

i " God bless you !" from a hundred throats, and the postilion cracks his . whip.

I " Three cheers " from old Simmons and the other servitors ; and amidst a shower of old slippers and rice the~bappy couple drive away to spend their honeymoon beneath the , blue skies of the Mediterranean shore. The guests return to the splendid , entertainment provided for them, and •o the afternoon progresses. The bwakfast began at two and was over at four. Groups of congenial goals seek the dark shadows of the

wood on the far side of the lake. Otherß are sailing across the deep crystal waters, idly dragging their hands in the cool liquid.

Lovers wander away to sheltered, nooks of the spacious, far-reaching grounds, there to utter and listen to sweet nothings and hang upon the words of each other. Two of this kind are Hal Wainwright and Zulieka Bnumenides, and their conversation is not all of love, but of anxiety regarding the anger of the lady's father. She, with Eastern calmness is ready to accept her fate—to utter as her Georgian mother would have done, " Allah, it is well—it is thy will !** The shades of evening at last descend and the wanderers return. A concert is going on. Professional singers of repute are there. No one seems to notice the absence of Wainwright and Zulieka. To-day it is liberty hall.

A carriage drives, up to the door, and M. Enumenides steps out. As he enters the great hall of the front entrance the stalwart porter stops him. " Mr. Ritchison has given strict orders that nobody but specially invited guests are to enter to-day." "Is that message intended for me ?" hissed the Armenian.

" For you, sir, particularly," replied the blunt servitor. " Enough. Your master shall suffer for this insult. Insulted through a servant too. Heavens, now I shall go on., to the bitter end ! Where is my daughter ? I have come for her." " I shall send for the lady," said the porter going into the footman's waiting-room.

An under-footman came out at this moment and said thoughtlessly : " Miss Enumenides sir, is in the grounds on the other side of the lake with Mr. Wainwright." The Eastern swore a terrible oath" and rushed from the house. When the porter returned he.was gone. There were two levels in the Bolton Hall grounds. The lake proper was at least forty feet beneath a miniature lake to the right, which was fed by a tributary of the river in the vicinity. Artictic moss-grown rocks were piled together there hundreds of years before, and over these rocks the water fell from the upper to the lower lake, giving a refreshing sound and forming a fine picture. A rustic bridge crossed those falls, and at the other end a broad flight of steps led to a covered avenue of trees that skirted the whole of that side of the water. Hal Wainwright and Zulieka Enumenides were walking slowly in this lonely direction gazing on the grea;fc trunks of the.trees that grew up from the very edge of the lake. "Zulieka darling, you must not think any more of this dream. You shall live, and live to be my wife." "It is not to be," cried the girl, sorrowfully. "Were I to live, my father would never allow it."

" I'll throw up my interest in the mill," said the ex-sailor, excitedly, " and we'll fly together to America."

" The earth is too small to hide from him who gave me life," replied the fair Armenian.

" Oh, nonsense," said Hal. " Then I'll make friends with him and ask him for you." " He will never consent."

They were so intent upon their own conversation, that their surroundings were unnoticed. Dick Ritchison was too unhappy to"remain indoors, so he repaired to the lakeside for a moonlight walk. He went round by the left side from the house—not by the rustic bridge we have noted, and was consequently close upon the lovers before they knew he was in the grounds. He turned to retire, but something impelled him to linger near.

Not long after he left the house, Kate o* Fulford's came rushing up to the Hall asking for him. They told her he had gone for a walk to the left of the water. We remember that Gommy followed her into the grounds. He went past the house while she went in, and the first object the idiot's eyes fell upon was the figure of Enumenides crossing the rustic bridge, his long beard and scarlet fez looking green in the moon's rays. What made Gommy creep after the foreigner ? Who can tell ?

The situation now is this. Hal Wainwright and Zulieka are beneath the arched avenue of trees directly opposite the illuminated Hall, from the open windows of which came the clear notes of a soprano singer. Near them, hidden on their right, is Dick Ritchison. and coming" in search of him is our excited heroine. On the left of the lovers is the infuriated father approaching, stealthily, followed by Gommy and his dog. "It does not matter," said Hal, sternly. " I am determined that you shall become my wife with or without the consent of your father. I am also determined that he shall never have you in his power again. I believe that he meant what he said when he vowed that he would kill you."

" Ah, you know him not," sighed Zulieka. " Were he here now I dare not disobey him. Besides, it is my duty to do only as he wishes."

" Then I wish," said a stern voice out of the shadows of the avenue, " you to return .with me at once to my bouse, there to receive the punishment that awaits the disobedient." "Oh, my father !" screamed Zulieka. "Let me go, Hal !" she beggedi trying to draw her hand from her lover's grasp.

" Never," cried Hal. " There's murder in the monster's eye ! I will only part from jou in death !" " Then take it from my hand," cried the Armenian drawing his revolver and firing at Waimvright, who fell, shot, on the green border between the trees.

He was then about to seize his daughter, who was kneeling by y the body of her lover, when Dick rushed forward, crying :

'* Murderer ! I have caught you In the act !"

A tremendous struggle now ensued, during which the revolver fell from the grasp of the foreigner. Both were large powerful men. Dick had the advantage of youth, but the other had skill.

Zulieta had kept up shrielring and between every cry she kdssed the pale face of her prostrate lover. Our «hero was at length thrown off some distance, but regained his feet. As he" came rushing up again the Armenian dealt him a blow betwden the eyes that laid him insensible on the green sward.

" Now, slave !" cried Enumenides, turning to his daughter, "come thoii with me."

"Don't be in such a hurry," cried Gommy appearing. " I saw you knock down th' young master, an' I'm for thee, man." " Idiot Giant ! The pistol ! Where is it ?" But before he could regain it he was in the herculean grasp of Gommy. Then another deadly struggle took place, accompanied by a running bark from Scratch. Zulieka had fainted on Hal's breast. f -

They turned and tore, those two men ; but skill did not avail against the witless weaver's great strength. Presently Enumenides endeavoured to free himself. He succeeded in throwing Gommy in**-the direction from which Dick had come. He then quickly retreated and secured his pistol, which he was about to fire, exclaiming :

" Now for your worthless life, madman !" His hand was on the trigger when between him and his intended victim, right in the centre of the moonbeams, rushed Kate o' Fulford's crying :

" Fire, monster and murderer, if you dare !" Enumenides stopped. "In the name of Heaven who are you ?" he cried. "I am the avenger !" cried our heroine, scarce knowing! what she said, i Dick by this time had recovered consciousness.

" Kate, you here ?" he exclaimed. " What has brought you ?" " The evil works of that man," pointing to Enumenides. " The mills are on./ fire and there stands the incendiary." Gravene Enumenides gave one hoarse cry and fled the spot leaving Zulieka lying across the body of her lover.

The bright moon made the waters a sheet of silver and the recesses between the trees became pale green bowers of bliss. The guests rushing from the Hall, alarmed by the shot, came to the lake at the other side, and saw Kate and Dick kneeling beside the prostrate bodies. The witless weaver was standing lik.e a grim giant of stone, Scratch crouching at his feet. CHAPTER XV. THE RUSH TO THE MILL.—THE 1 EXPLOSION. The kindly nature of our heroine, notwithstanding her belief in the news communicated to her relative as to the projected burning of the mills, prompted her first attending to the condition of Zulieka and her lover. She placed the girl on the soft bank and sprinkled the cool water from the lake upon her deathly pale face. She soon had the satisfaction of seeing the colour return and then the first words uttered were : "He whom my soul worships—what of him ?" " Keep quiet. Mr. 'Wainwright is recovering," replied Kate, kindly, and yet with authority. The guests had by this time arrived at the spot. Luckily there was a doctor among the crowd, he examined the ex-lieuteriant, and found that the bullet had taken a piece of flesh and a part of the eyebrow right away. It had grazed the bone thus causing insensibility ; but otherwise.. there was no permanent injury done. In a few words the stalwart young fellow was on his feet and his first care was to support the. girl he loved to the house where Dr. Whitmore bound up his wounds and then he pronounced himself " all taut and ship shape." Every eye was turned upon Kate as Dick inquired anxiously : " What did you say about the mills, Kate—Miss Fulford ?" " For heaven's sake do not loae a minute. They may be destroyed by this time !" cried Kate.

" What is the meaning of this ?" faltered Mr. Ritchison senior, as the gentlemen and ladies crushed around the fine figure of our humbly-clad heroine.

" Gommy overheard something that leads me to believe that some enemies intend firing the mills," replied Kate.

" Ay, an' Gommy's not such a fool as he looks," cried a voice ; " for Gommy's been an' made chap wi' cauliflower head put greys in th' carriage, an' Ted Snaffles put chestnuts in waggronette and we'll be there in no time."

We need not say that this came from the Idiot Giant, who had stolen unheeded into the grand drawingroom.

A short hurry and confusion, and then wheels were heard crunching the gravel in the direction of the front door.

Poor Mrs. Ritchison was dreadfully excited. Her husband tenderly embraced her, saying in a low voice : " Retribution, darling ! It is the hand of heaven !"

, "It is the work of a deadly foe," replied she, " and his evil efforts must be frustrated." Everyone rushed to the door. Kate was about to get upon the box beside the coachman ; but the master of the house took her hand and said: " No. Miss Fulford ; yaux alace is here, beside ma."

And the mill-owner handed her into the carriage. , " Oh, dear," she exclaimed ; "I had quite forgotten. My mother's brougham is at the gate."

" Your mother's brougham," was the general exclamation. And the tone of this was as plainly as possible—" Imagine a mill girl with a mother's carriage !" " There's no time to explain, dad," cried Dick. " It's a most romantic affair. Miss Fulford found her mother by accident this morning. That mother is a lady by birth," he added proudly ; " and that is why I was surprised to see the benefactress of our family here to-night in this garb. I thought it cast aside for ever."

" When I cast this dress aside,** replied Kate, " I cease to be one of the people, and my influence over them dies. Should the danger we trulj fear hang over the mills tonight I may be of some use-in guiding the workers to great efforts." The carriage and the waggonette were soon filled with gentlemen— Dick, Hal Wainwright and two others ran to the lodge and jumped mto Mrs. Marryat's carriage. By-and-bye several of the guests' carriages came round.

Gommy sat beside Ted Snaffle on the waggonette, and Merry Maud Ritchison —sad enough now, poor girl —actually lifted the unwieldly Scratch up to the footboard, much to that quadruped's amazement-and delight. " Eh, Scratch, man," said Gommy, " you're a lucky doggie, you are. I wish I was you, man. Don't you ?" he added, digging his elbow into Snaffle's ribs, to which playful query the driver vouchsafed no reply, but looked sheepish. He of the ribands worshipped his fair mistress from afar off and the idiot had penetrated his secret he thought. At length a whole string of carriages issued from the gates, and many of the inhabitants living in the neighbourhood wondered what this racing meant at such an hour, for racing it was, in more instances than one.

Our taciturn friend, Snaffle, was not going to let the '* old 'un," as he called the family coachman, . "show him the way ": and so he came up to him hand over hand and at last got well away from him much to the ancient servitor's chagrin ; indeed, he shed tears over the affair.

Then Snaffle espied a one-horse conveyance ahead. His pair were not to be beaten by any one-horse trap in the world ; and so Mrs. Marrjat's brougham was passed in fine style. Gommy and the driver were happy.

Every eye was anxiously bent the sky over the city, for every one' expected to see the dreaded red reflection of the flames shoot upwards. All was yet darkness ; and hope rose in the breasts of father and son, and friends began to remark that it was a false alarm.

The gallant horses galloped on until the great mills of Ritchison loomed in sight. The moon smiled peacefully down and doubts of-Gommy's intelligence rose once more in the minds of those who in former cases, had most reason to trust him.

One only—Kate —was steadfast in her faith. The waggonette came up first to the gates. The idiot jumped down and began thundering at the wicket. Hundreds of workmen were already there, thanks to Morgan's scouting, but to no one had the watchman paid any attention. The family carriage next arrived, closely followed by the brougham. Mr Ritchison opened the wicket gate and entered, accompanied by his son", Hal Wainwright, Gommy, Kate and many friends. No sign of anything wrong. " What's up, sir ?" asked the watchman.

"There is something wrong tonight," replied the mill-owner. "When did you go your lasb round ?" " Just returned," was the answer.

" Have you noticed anything that would lead you to believe that any person had landed by the warehouse quay from the direction of the canal ?"

"A mouse couldn't turn . withqut disturbing me," said the official certain of his own infallibility. "Look theer—look theer !" cried Gommy, excitedly. " Where —what ?" came from every side. *

" There's something up, I tell you r ' shouted the idiot. "I see a man's face at that window, just this minit."

" Don't believe that fool," said the guardian of the premises. " He's always thinking there's something wrong and upsetting honest folks. Who could get into th'_ mills without my knowing ? It don't stand to reason, it don't." "Pardon me, sir," said Kate, quietly. " I certainly thought I saw something white-like disappear from that window," and here she pointed to the identical. one at which Mr. Ritchison made the first speech we have recorded. " Why, this is in the outer office of the counting-house. All that department is doubly locked," replied the merchant. " Can I speak to you a moment alone, father ?," said Dick. They retired a few steps. "Have you ever confided the keys of your own office to any one besides Mr. Walton ?" " Never. Why do you ask ?" " Forgive me, father," faltered Dick. " You were so happy to-day that I had not the heart tfe tetl you that " " What ?" cried the fiather, in an agonised whisper. " That when I went this morning to your private drawer in the safe the expired policies were missing." "Good Heavens, boy, the blow will kill your mother ! This is our ruin ! I see it all ! I can imagine the secret hand that strikes me down! ! What .a fool I have been : .and yet

w? late misfortunes have unhinged my mind 3" cried the unhappy father, in broken snatches. "We are ruined, utterly rained," he continued " for the terms, days of grace, and all- of those policies finished last nigfct J" " Let us search every nook ©'. the building," suggested Dick. " Yes," cried the father, quickly clearer of speech and resolute in manner. " Gall Snaffle." The driver advanced from the doorway.

" You know Mr. Walton'* address?" «« Yes, sir." " Drive there and bring him hack with' you. Lose ao time." "All right, air." " Send in some of the men who are waiting outside.'* " Yes, sir." Morgan was among the first to eater.

" Bring me the address-book," the master said.

It was brought frc*» the timekeeper's lodge. After referring to it Mr. Ritchison gave Morgan a few shillings saying : " Drive to No. 42, Wensdale Street and bring Mr. Weston back with you.'* " Yes, sir," said Morgan ; and he disappeared. "Weston is the clerk who locks up the outer he explained to his friends. "Now we will explore the premises." Mr. Ritchison led the way to the door of the counting-house. Jets of gas were lit as the party advanced ; but not a soul could be seen " from garret to basement," and the hearts of the owners began to beat less rapidly. When they returned to the bottom of the grand staircase, which wound its way from the level of the engine department right up to the trapdoor opening upon the roof, our friend Scratch began to growl and snarl .ominously.\

" Yes, man, catch Mm !" cried Gommy. *' Find him. out, Scratch, lad. I know there's aomethin' up." The ponderous boilers and intricate machinery were minutely examined but nothing appeared to greet the inquisitive human eye, yet the soul of Scratch was not to be comforted.

The engine fires were never permitted to go out. A part of the watchman's night duty was to add to the fuel at the furnaces at stated periods during the night. No one heeded the dog, who centred the whole of his attention upon a man-hole in the brickwork—a small square opening—formed as most of our readers know for the purpose of admitting the engineer to examine parts of the boilers otherwise inaccessible. The watchman noticed with a falling of his heart that a great deal of the coals he had lately heaped upon the red-hot embers of the fires had been drawn. ""

He dared not say a word of this, and determined to rectify the matter as soon as the meddling masters had gone away.

At the present state of heat in the furnaces, persons might he concealed in the man-holes for a considerable time without inconvenience ; but the watchman never thought of this, believing as he did, that no one could possibly enter the grounds without his knowledge ; and yet the drawn fires puzzled him. No sooner had the party retired from this quarter of the building, followed very reluctantly by the more gifted Scratch, than the evil face of Nabal Blackley dirty and begrimed, issued from the lower man-hole.

" It's all right," he muttered. "Eh I'm • nearly melted with th' heat. If they pass over what's at chimney foot they'll go home and think nothin' up'."

" The devil take them all," cried Demetri Enumenides, peeping from another hole. " Who could have brought them here ? Some one must have split upon us. By Jupiter, I'll shoot the man dead who plays me false."

" Don't you be in such a hurry," interrupted the "brutal Dawsy Howarth. "Lancashire folk for good or evil, are true as steel. Thou man loot* among thy Frenchies for traitors."

" We shall see," replied the Armenian. " Hide yourselves, sons of dogs. They return this way." Mr. Ritchison and party minutely examined the warehouse, but no trace of an intruder could be found. Everything was in order and completely locked up.

Crossing the great yard from the wharf offices they came upon poor Scratch, grumbling, and tearing the soil from the. foundation of the colossal stack, or chimney, which raised its head to an altitude of 270 ft. above the level of the ground. Ritchison's chimney was a landmark for the entire city. ,

" Come alone/ old* fool !" cried Gommy—" there's notbin' there, man." Little knew the witless weaver or his companions what the poor dog was trying to extract from the hole made in the fabric by the loosening and removal of certain bricks.

A consultation was now held in the yard, and one and all of the princi-, pals agreed that there was no foundation for the scare and that poor Gommy was not to be depended upon. " It's true I tell you," cried the poor being, " I heerd them say it. I followed them a long way. They did not see me, but I seed them—ay, man and heerd too."

At this juncture Mr. Walton arrived, and Mr. Ritchison senior, with Mr. Hal Wainwright and some of the guests who had accompanied them from the Hall, retired to the count-ing-house. Dick stayed behind. Kate stood waiting. " My ' darling," began Dick " you will catch cold if you remain longer out. There is no danger. Poor old Gom. has made a mistake this time." " I should be glad to believe so," replied 'our heroine ; "but he has never yet been mistaken. Therefore I

must ' Mm now." " What then would you advise, Elate ?" asked Dick.

" Let your father return home to comfort your mother and Maud "—* began Elate. " Who speaks my name ?" asked a cheery voice in the semi-darkness ; and the merry golden-haired sister of Kate's lover pressed up to the seemingly ill-assorted couple. " Ah, sis," cried Dick, " it's just like you to come ; but what on earth do you intend to do ?" " It seems the mills are not on fire then ?"

" Not yet; but our little preserver here"—

" Mr. Ritchison !" ; expostulated Kate.

" Nonsense darling," • cried Maud. " Don't open your brown eyes, Kate. I can see with my meaningless blue things as far as most folks and I've made up my mind that I and Dick are to win you—for—him." " You are very kind," said Kate, blushing prettily with just a shade of hauteur in her glance. " Oh, I say, Maud, you haven't heard the particulars about Miss Fulford finding her real mother." " You remind me of my duty," said Kate gravely. "My mother—you know her, MiSB Ritchison—is waiting anxiously for me at my fos-ter-mother's. I must go to her; but first I must know what the gentlemen intend! doing in the presence of the threatened emergency." " Oh, we'll do all right," replied the careless Dick.

" Permit me to remark," said Maud " that I doubt that. My advice would be ifor you, Dick, to take your instructions from the 'Mill Girl* as the darling persists in being called — and then communicate the same to the other members of the firm."

" Why weren't you a man, Maud?" said Dick, "you've got such a head." "No flattery," replied his sister. " Attention —listen to instructions."

" Mj' advice is," said Kate " that notwithstanding the '• gentlemen's doubt of the information brought by poor Gommy, the works ought not to be deserted by the principals, tonight. *» " Meaning dad, self, Wainwfight and Walton ?" inquired Dick. " Just sOj" said Maud. " And pray, how are we to occupy ourselves the live-long night ?" " You must be serious," continued our heroine. "If nothing occurs byand bye your father should take up his quarters for the night at the Queen's Hotel. The Hall is too far away. Should the threatened fire actually occur I am living within four doors of the branch fire-engine station in Pollard Street\ from whence they can summon in a minute the five engines from the central offices. As for Miss Maud " " You miss the Miss and call me Maud," cried the latter.

" Very well, Maud. You must go home and comfort your mother." " How thoughtful you are. I really forgot that Marion had gone away," replied Maud. "But I shall not return yet." " Then send a messenger," said Kate.

"AH right," cried Dick. " I'll despatch the coachman with a note proclaiming a false alarm." " And I'll go to bed with my dar-. ling Kate," cried Maud, " that is af- N ter I've had a pleasant night listening to the most original romance of the present day for that it must prove so I am sure —considering that Mrs. Marryat is by far the most charming and quite-too-awfully sweet being I ever met with. And she is your mother !" the young lady con- ; tinued taking Kate's pretty head be- J tween her fair hands and then kissing I her enthusiastically, greatly to the wonder of Gommy and Scratch. " Don't cock your head like that Scratch, man," said the half-wit. You're like nothin' e lc =o but a parrot when you look like it.at."

Scratch only looked on with more interest. Kate and Maud were escorted to the gate and were soon landed at Mrs. Fulford's door by the coachman of Mrs. Marryat. • / The sound of the wheels brought the newly found mother and Mrs. Fulford to the door. The former caught the mill girl to her breast, while the woman # of the people curtseyed her lowest to Miss Maud. " Oh, Kate, darling, you must not leave me again like this !" cried the mother of our heroine. " My heart has been palpitating in your absence, notwithstanding the pretty stories of your childhood and girlhood told me by my very good friend, your actual training mother, Mrs. Fulford." " It may not seem right, ma'am," said thatl worthy, " but I cannot hold my tongue. I never had a lass of my own that I loved wi' the same love I had for your Kate, an' there's not one of all) my own flock that has repaid me wi' the same kindness as thy lass has done to me." While an outline of the story of our heroine —always concealing, the name of Newman—was being communicated to the highly interested Maud, the gentlemen -had concluded what to do for the night, acting upon the advice given them through young Dick Ritchison. Mr. Weston, the lock-up clerk, Mr. Hal. Wainwright, and young Dick were to be left in the counting-house on guard, while a number of men were detailed to parade the* grounds every half-hour each squad to be relieved every two hours by another batch and so on until the dawn of day. Mr. Ritchison, sen., being exhausted and grieved by the trials of the immediate past, retired with the next senior partner Mr. Walton, to the Queen's Hotel. Snaffle drove them there and brought back refreshments and cigars for the watchers of the night. Gommv and Scratch had gone out

,;ii--.'MV.-w'v 1 »-- of the gate when Kate and Maud retired to the humble home of Mrs. Fulford. The watchman kdndled a fire in the counting-house and when Snaffle re turned with the case of sandwiches, and cigars, the three young gentlemen—Dick Ritchison, Hal. Wainwright and Mr. Weston—prepared tc make themselves comfortable. The green leather-covered sofa frorr Mr. Ritchison's private office was brought out, and the invalid ex-lieu tenant was placed upon it. Bid chose an easy chair, and Mr. Westor found another. Presently the fumes of the wine or the strong cigars or the unwontec heat of the fire began to tell a talf" upon the trio. Whether the exhaustion from thi wound received from the elder LJnumenides was the cause or not cau never be discovered, but certain ii was that the youmg retired seaman, who had kept many a wealry watct at night at sea, was the first to succumb to sleep. As the clock struck eleven oui young friend Dick yawned and said, '"Weston, I'll just have forty winks. Keep a good look-out until I relieve you." " All right, sir," was the clerk's reply. Presently the fire began to danct before the ejes of the faithful penman and then another glass of wine was imbibed ; the three slept—s«ntinels at their posts. In his sleep Weston faintly hearc the heavy footsteps of the watchman commencing to go on his rounds. This official was. annoyed at the whole aspect of affairs, and deeply resented the introduction of the new half-hourly patrols therefore he determined to keep up his own routine and treat the others with contempt. At a little after eleven o'clock, ae he passed in' front of the engine-house two strong men seized him in their arms, a handkerchief was thrown over his stubborn head, a cloth was pushed into his mouth—-and then he felt himself borne along until he was thrown into what he felt to be a small boat. ■■■■' . At the same instant a loud explosion took place, followed by another and another, the light from eachi oi which penetrated, as' lightning will, the bandage covering his eyes. . He then knew that his vigilance had been as nothing, however faithful his watching. To be Continued.'