The Storgteller. THE GOLDEN TRAP.
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS.
MATTEO FALCONE.
(Cuncliukd). The prisoner sat and thought. There was nothing else to do. His position was perilous in the extreme. He was utterly in the power of the Professor, as much so as a fourteenth century captive in the castle of an enemy. He pictured Miss Heath's alarm when she found that nnrning that he had not returned, Would she communicate with the police to-day, or wait till to-morrow ! It matters little, for there was no help from that quarter ; the police could not get the smallest clue. London had swallowed him. After a time hnnger banished all speculation as to escape. He began to wonder how far the awful Professor would go in the threat to starve him into submission. There was a dreadful ring of sincere conviction in words when he said he valued human life at very little above a dog's. As afternoon waned he became so faint from lack of food that he lasped into a serai-unconscious state half weakness, half sleep, He was dreaming, and saw vaguely the vision of a beautiful face close to his, half familiar, and he was wondering when and where he had seen it before, when a delightful yot prosaic smell of hot soup under his nose woke him to full consciousness, and the presence of Grace, was bending over him with a spoon and basin.^ She fed him in silence, the pity and sorrow in her soft grey eyes half irritated him, he kne* not why. Then, revived by the soup, he asked the time. He seemed to have been lying there for days, though the light above him told him it was not yot evening. ' It is nearly seven o'clock. It will soon be dark. The Professor has goae for his walk, he forbade me to bring you anything, but I couldn't bear to think of you lying here any longer, sol stole the soup out of the kitchen.' How far would the girl's pity lead her. He determined to see. ' Doe 3 anyone live in this house besides you two ? Any servants V ' No. Mrs Higgins comes every day and does the housework ; but she goes away every eveaing. • Would Sfie hear me if 1 were to shout.' • Not from the kitchen, and she never comes above the first floor. ' Won't you,' pleaded Herbert, • tell her 1 am here, so that ' •No, no,' she cried piteously, 1 don't ask rue, please don't ask me. I dare not. He bid me not to tell, he made me promise and I cannot break my word. I've disobeyed, as it is, in bringing the soup. Oh. what can I do. What a miserable girl I am.' She broke into a storm of tears, and sobbed as though her heart would break. It would be not only cruel but useless to press her further. ' At any rate,' he said, with a smile, ' I see you have a kind heart and you won't let me die of starvation, let the Professor command what he will.' The girl's sobs ceased, and she answered firmly : ' I won't; I'll bring you some more food to-night, when he's gone to bed. I had better go now.' Herbert was still meditating if it would be possible later to get the girl to release him when the Professor appeared again, and said : 'Well. Mr Pattison will you accept release on my terms !' « I will not,' replied the prisoner, all his hatred against the old man reviving in his presence. ' It is curious,' remarked the latter surveying him dispassionately, like a beetle under a microscope, ' but 1 notice in spite of your big frame and heavy build you are of a nervous and emotional temperament. I should say your disposition is easy-going and weak, but you have now a fit of obstinacy which makes you harder to deal with. You are a blend of weakness and strength, and paradoxically it makes you stronger. Confinement does not suit you, you will worry yourself into an illness, Good-night, and a wiser decision to-morrow.' The professor's diagnosis was correct. Herbert was usually of a weak and easy going nature, and when a weak man in a fit of obstinacy makes up his mind on a certain point he is the hardest of all men to alter. There was something so humiliating, so ridiculous, in yielding, and taking a bride by the professor's coercion, that Herbert felt that death itself were preferable. Moreover, he was sustained by the promise of Grace to bring him food later, and the faint hope of prevailing on her to set him free. The room grew dark, evidently he was not going to be allowed any this night, the darkness got on hy? rves later and he began to trouble. Time crawled and brought no relief; he began to think Grace would not keep her promise, when the welcome gleam of light under the door heralded the approach of someone. It was Grace, not dressed in the magnificent dress that had so dazzled him the previous night, but in n plain serge, and bearing a tray loaded with various dishes and jugs. Herbert rallied at the sight, and egged her to untie Lis wrists so
that he could sit up and feed himself.
• I give you my word of honour I will not touch the other cord,' he said, ' and you can tie me up again when I have finished.'
The girl hesitated, but consented. Herbert's wrists were bound together, and then to the bamboo pole in such a way that his fingers could not touch the knot. She untied it, and the prisoner was able to sit up, loosen his wrists and eat and drink. Comparison being every thing, he felt for the moment quite happy in this temporary relaxation of his bondage. Grace insisted on hi 3 swallowing some port wine and raw egg;. then he ate some meat and ■ drank -some beef tea. The change from darkness, hunger and solitude to the light, the food and the, eompanionship was so violent that his mental depression changed to exuberant gaiety. The girl's spirits rose with his. For a few minutes they chatted, with jests and suppressed laughter, like schoolboy and schoolgirl raiding the pantry and enjoying a midnight feast. Herbert gathered by a few questions put presently that the professor, though eccentric, was not unkind to the girl. He certainly had no affection for her. and exacted ah implicit obadience to his wishes. Sue was well read and intelligent, though absolutely ignorant of the world.
Having established a friendly feeling between them, Herbert ventured to beg for liberty, pointing out that by law the professor had no such power over her as she imagined, but this the girl could not understand. The law was unknown to her, her fear of her guardian very real, and when the prisoner pleaded for liberty, though loth to refuse, she dared not comply. Whether he would have won her over to brave her guardian's wrath will remain unknown, for in the midst of Herbert's arguments the professor broke in upon them with a rattle and a stick. Pattison uttered a bitter oath, for he was almost as powerless as if his hands were tied, and Grace, giving a cry of horror, sank away into a corner. ' Put up your hands and let me re-tie them, said the professor quietly ; «my stick is loaded with lead; one tap will knock you senseless.'
Pattison submitted in sullen silence, and was bound as before, then the professor coldly told Grace to go to her room, and followed her out. Herbert was left <ilone to bemoan bis fate. There was nothing surprising in the girl's meek submission, she had been educated as though living in the Middle Ages instead of the nineteenth century, but with a little more time he would have converted her, now he feared he would see her no more.
This fear was justified, for when the long night had passed, and also some slow hours of daylight, the prisoner, wearied almost to breaking point, heard the professor's step, and summoned all his resolution to brave his foe.
'Your further imprisonment,' he said, 'if you are still obdurate, will not be lightened by the society or material assistance of Grace. I have locked her in her room, and sent the only domestic I employ away for two days.' ' Do you intend to starve her, too,' snarled Pattison. ' No,' said the professor, steadily, ' but as I can no longer trust her she will be safer there out of the way,' ' You devil,' cried Herbert. ' You remorseless devil, but you haven't beaten me yet. I defy you still. My God, if I could only get at you !' But the other did not give him even the luxury of a reply and retired.
The second day of the prisoner's captivity ran its course. Strange to say he slept for some hours during the day, then woke to frightful pain and suffering. Every nerve and fibre of his being was on the rack now. Hunger, thirst and pain tormented him, he could have prayed for death or madness to ease his sufferings, but his brain was clear and he felt that endurance could go no further. He must yield.
As he realised that the bland professor had won, and his two days' torture had been of no avail, a sudden paroxysm took possession of Herbert. He flung himself to and fro heedless of the pain it caused. It was a wild frenzy, the last struggle, in which the remnant of his strength and passion were devoted, the pole swayed, there was a singing in his ears, darkness blinded his vision, the cords seemed cutting through him. Then above his head as he lay writhing sounded a crack of broken wood and he rolled over on his back. Not knowing what had happened he lay still for a moment, then turning his head saw that the upright block was broken from the floor and the head of the bamboo free. Pushing his hands up he was able with some difficulty to slip them over the top. His fingers were at liberty, he untied hi." legs and ankles., and stood up a free man.
He staggered with mingled excitement and weakness, walls, floor and ceiling seemed to dance round him, he leaned against the nearest, wall and passed his hand over his face and looking again saw a welcome sight. It was the tray of food Grace had brought the previous
night and which the professor had not taken away. Eagerly he drank some spirits and felt almost himself again, and even more welcome than food or drink was a dinner-knife, with which he now severed the cord with bound his wrists.
Next he had the curiosity to see how he had got free. The bamboo to which he had been so long bound fitted into two stout, short poles about six inches thick, which came through the floor. Examination now showed a flaw in the centre of the broken piece, which had extended till the sound wood had given way in the fury of his final struggle. The stick had snapped and the bamboo had been released from its resting place. 1 My worthy professor,' murmured Herbest, • you did not allow enough for contingencies. I have a strong temptation to break your head before I go." He ate and drank and then prepared to leave. The door was unlocked, he passed through and stood in a small passage, and now a mystery was revealed which had hitherto puzzled him. How, he had wondered, had the professor got him upstairs when insensible, but a lift which stood before him now explained. Glancing through the landing window he saw he was a good way from the ground. Following the stairs downward he came to the storey below. Passing along a passage a sound caught his ear from behind one of the closed doors. He paused and listened. It was the sound of a girl sobbing and uttering broken words of prayer—the voice of Grace. In the sudden excitement of liberty, not yet five minutes old, he had forgotten her, but now he remembered, and his heart smote him that he had been going away without a word of farewell. He remembered all she had done for him, in fact it was chiefly owing to her that he was now at liberty. He must let her know at once.
He knocked at tho door and whispered, ' Miss Vincent." The sob ceased, and her voice cried with a little gasp, ' Who is there V ' I—Pattison. I have got free,' he answered. Then seeing the key in the lock he remembered that she had been locked in ; he turned the key and entered. Grace had been kneeling "by her bedside, she now confronted him with a look of mingled astonishment and joy. Her hair was tumbled, her lips parted in surprise. 'ls it really you V she gasped timidly. Pattison laughed at her astonishment, as in a few words he told how ho had gained his liberty. As he spoke her tears vanished, her eyes glowed, and the pale cheeks became rosy.
'I am glad,' she said softly. ' I was praying for you. God must have heard me.'
' You have been very good to me, Grace,' he answered, unconsciously pronouncing her Christian name. ' But—'
He broke off, conscious of a new feeling towards her. If he went away, what would be her fate ? Hitherto the longing to escape had wholly occupied him, but it now struck him that he gone, the undaunted professor might again set the golden trap. What way was there of stopping him ? His brain at that moment was not very clear, and he could think of none without publishing his ridiculous captivity to the world.
Now, as his eyes rested on Grace, he telt how impossible it was to leave her under present circumstances. His sentiments were quite changed. It was one thing to be blandly ordered to take a wife as a doctor might order a dose of medicine, but another to leave the poor girl who had done so much to aid him to the fate of having to marry the next man captured as be had been. But how to save her ? There was but one way ; by marrying her himself, and this step he found not wholly unpleasing. In fact, he realised that he was in love with the girl who had been the inuocent cause of all his sufferings.
Nor was this to be wondered at. She had done much to aid him, had dared for the first time in her life to disobey her guardian. Short as had been their acquaintance, her disposition in all its simplicity and tenderness had been laid bare before him. And chief of all reasons in a man's eyes, her beauty drew him. She stood trhere in a simple dress and untidy hair, but nothing could disguise her loveliness. As he stood looking at her, his eyes must have expressed his admiration, for hers fell, and her colour deepened. 'Do you think,' he said at last, ' the professor will go on with this mad scheme V ' I—don't know ; but go now, before he comes back.
' Grace,' he cried, not heeding her words, ' my darling, I can't leave you to such a fate. You shall not be married to any stranger.' With a shy eager look she raised her eyes and made a half step forward towards him as though welcoming his succour. He caught her in his arms and kissed her.
' Grace, do you love me V ' I dou't know,' she whispered softly. ' You see I have not met anyone like you before.' 'Yes, but—you let me kiss you. You don't mind?'
' Well, nobody ever kissed me before,' she said, with an admirable blush.
1 If anybody else does, I'll murder him. 'Darling, I want the monopoly of your kisses, your society, yourself. Grace, now I'm free I know I love you. AVill you be ray wife, and remember if you don't you'll have to marry—' 'No, I wouldn't,' she whispered. ' I'd never have married anybody else, after I met you.' But Herbert received the information that he had sacrificed himself in vain with noble fortitude. And Grace's world had changed all in an instant. It seemed almost too good to be true after the shame and hourly growing humiliation of being forced on an unwilling husband, to be wooed by this man now that he was free, and at liberty to walk out of the house. Her happiness was too deep for words. But there was no time for, lovemaking. The professor was out for a walk and would soon return. Herbert decided tha 1 ; it would be best for him to go home and get some sleep and return on the morrow to see his old foe, and tell him that he had won after all. Grace declared she had not the courage to tell him herself, and begged Herbert to leave her locked in her room and to go away at once, and this he finally did, and bidding a tender farewell, relocked the door and went downstairs. He glanced at himself in a mirror in the hall, above which he found hanging his own hat, which had fallen off when the professor kidnapped him. He put it on, and turning up the coat collar of his light overcoat, concealed the fact that he was in very crumpled evening dress. Opening the front door he was about to quit the house when a man met him on the threshold. At the first glimpse he thought it was the professor returning, but a second look showed it was a policeman. 1 Good afternoon, sir,' said the latter. ' Are you a friend of Professor Metcalf's V Herbert, not inclined at that moment to enter into an explanation of his acquaintace with the professor mendaciously answered in the affirmative. •I'm sorry to have to acquaint you, sir, that the professor has met with an accident.' ' Oh, indeed,' said Herbert, blankly. ' Come in and tell me about it; don't be afraid of frightening me,' he added, dryly, • I can bear it.' The man gave a glance of some astonishment and said-: •As you may be aware, sir, the professor goes for a walk every afternoon. He's a well-known character about here, and here, and has been run over several times owing to his stopping all of a sudden as he walks. I hear he's a literary gent, and does it when ideas come to him. Well, 'alf an hour ago he was crossing Ollive road, just by Wilson's, when he pulls up suddenly. There was a brewer's van coming along at a good pace, and it was on him before the driverjcould pull up. I was the nearest constable, my releif was just due, that's why I can come here now. I picks him up, unconscious only, I thought he was. But a doctor examines him and says that he was dead, an 'orse's 'oof 'aving struck him on the ten-pie.' But if tho professor's ghost is able to revisit the world, he must smile to sco how well, when alive he carried out his promise to his dead friend, for Herbert and Grace were married as soon as the archbishop's special licenso permitted, and what is more, Pattison has freely forgiven him for arbitrary methods of securing a husband for Grace, and they, in spite of their old prenuptial acquaintanceship, find their married life run smoothly and happily.—■ Detroit Free Press.
Inland from Porto Vecchio, in a north-westerly direction, the ground rises rather rapidly, It takes three hours on foot, by winding paths (which are sometimes blocked by massive stones, and sometimes cut across by ravines), to reach the edge of a wide maquis, a? they call a track of brushwood and heather in Corsica. This maquis is the home of the Corsican shepherds, and of all who have got into trouble with the authorities. Matteo Falcone's house was a mile and a half from this maquis. He was well-to-do for that neighbourhood, living like a lord ; that is to say in idleness, upon the produce of his flocks, which the shepherds (who are like homeless Arabs) led out to pasture, now here, now there, upon the mountains. When I saw him, two years after the event that lam about to narrate, I took him, at the outside, for a man of fifty. Imagine a short man, strongly built, with curly, jet-black hair, an aquiline nose, thin lips, large and sparkling eyes, and a skin like untanned leather. He had the name of being an extraordinarly good shot, even in his own country, where there are so many first-rate marksmen. Mateo Falcone enjoyed a great reputation on account of these remarkable accomplishments. His wife, Giuseppa, had borne him, to begin with, three daughters. This made him furious. Afterwards came a son, Fortunato, the hope of the family and heir to the name. The daughters were well married. In case of need, their father could de-
pend upon the poignards and carbines of his sons-in-law. The boy was but ten, yet he was already regarded as a lad of promise. One autumn day Matteo and his wife went out early to see one of his flocks in a clearing in the maquis. He had been some hour.* away, and little Fortunato was lyinsr quietly in the sun watching the blue mountain, and thinking that next Sunday he would dine in town with his uncle, the corporal, when his reflections were suddenly interrupted by the report of a gun. He stood up and turned towards the plain, whence the sound had come. Other shots followed. They were fired at unequal intervals, and came steadily nearer. At last, in the path leading from the house to the lowlands, a man appeared, wearing a peaked cap such as the mountaineers U3e. He had a board, was clothed in rags, and dragged himself along with difficulty, supporting himself on his gun. He had just been shot in the thigh. The man was a bandit— that is to say, an outlaw. He came up to Fortunato, and said, ' You're Matteo Falcone's son V ' Yes.' 'lam Gianetto Sampiero. ( The ' yellow collar's are at my heels.' (The voltigeurs' uuiform was a brown coat with a yellow collar). ' Hide me, my boy, for I can go no farther.' The boy seemed touched. ' What will you give me if I hide you V he asked, coming nearer. The bandit felt in a leather pouch hung from his belt, and pulled out a crown that he had probably meant to spend in powder. The silver coin made Fortunato laugh. He seized it, saying to Gianetto: ' Never fear.' At once he made a hole in the heap of hay that lay against the house. Gianetto sank into it, and the boy covered him up, but left him a breathing hole. Nobody could have guessed that a man lay hidden in the hay. Fortunato thought, moreover, of an ingenious trick, clever enough to be the trick of a savage. He brought a cat and her kittens, and set them in a nest on the hay-heap, to make it seem as if nothing had stirred there for some time back, Then, noticing the spots of blood upon the path near the house, he covered them carefully with dust, and lay down in the sun with the utmost tranquility. A few minutes later six men in orown uniforms with yellow collars, commanded by an adjutant, stood before Matteo's door. The adjutant svas a distant relation of Falcone's. (In Corsica, cousinships arc counted by degress of kinship elsewhere unchought of). His name was Tidoro Gamba an active man much dreaded by the bandits, of whom he had already hunted many to death. 'Good-day, little cousin,' he said, addressing Fortunato. ' How tall you've grown I Did you see a man go by, awhile ago V ' Oh! I'm not so tall as you, cousin,' answered the boy sheepishly. ' All in good time ! But you didn't see a man go by ; did you, now V ' Did I see a man go by V ' Yes ; a man with a black velvet peaked cap and a waistcoat with red and yellow embroidery.' ' A.man with a peaked cap and an embroidered red and yellow waistcoat V 'Yes; answer me, and don't repeat my questions.' 'This morning our parish priest passed by this door.. He was riding bis horse, Piero. He asked me how papa vvas, and I said to him——' ' Ah, you rogue ! You're playing the fool. Quick, now ! Tell me which way Gianetto went —for we're looking for him, and I'm certain he came up this path.' ' Who knows V 'Who knows!' I know very well that you saw him !' ' Can you sec people when you're asleep V 'You were not asleep, you little good-for-nothing ! The shots awoke you.' ' You think, cousin, your guns make a lot of noise ' My father's carbine makes a great deal more.' The adjutant drew a silver watch from his pocket. It must have been worth three or four pounds. Seeing little Fortunato's eyes sparkle at the sight of it, he said, holding the watch by its steel chain—- ' Rascal, you'd be glad enough to have a watch like this one hanging from your neck. You'd saunter up and clown the streets of Porto Vecchio as proud as a peacock ; and they'd be asking you, ' What the hour ? and you'd say ' Have a look at the time by my watch.'' Fortunato, peeping at the watch out of the corner of his eye, !ooked like a cat which is offered a whole chicken. As she feels she is being humbugged, she does not dare to claw at it, and she looks another way from time to time, lest she should succumb to the temptation. She licks her lips every moment, and seems to say to her master, ' What a cruel joke !' The adjutant, however, seemed to be in earnest. Fortunato did not put out his hand, but he said, smiling bitterly, • Why are you laughing afme V The other swore. ' I'm not laughing at you. Only tell me where Gianetto is, and this watch is yours. Fortunato smiled incredulously, and looking straight into the adjutant's eyes tried his best to read in them whether or no he might trust the spoken word,
' May I lose my epaulette,' cried the adjutant, ' if I don't give it you on those conditions. My comrades are witnesses. I can't go baok from my word.' Fortunato raised-his left hand, and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder to the heap of hay towards which his back was turned. The adjutant caught his meaning. He let go tho chain. Fortunato felt that the watch belonged to him alone. He sprang ten paces away from the hay with the agility of a deer, and the voltiguers turned the h-'ap upside down. At once the hay moved, and a bloodstained figure rose out of it, grasping his poignard ; but, as he tried to stand, his wound, which had grown stiff, made him fall back. The adjutant threw himself upon him, and dragged the stiletto out of his grasp. He was immediately pinned down and roped, in spite of his struggles. Gianetto, lying on the ground and bound like a bundle of sticks, turned bis head towards Fortunato who had come near, f Carrion !' he called out with less anger than contempt.
thought the spot suited to his purpose. ' Fortunato, go over to that big stone.' The boy did as he was told, and then knelt down. ' Say your prayers.' • Father, father, don't kill me ! ' Say your prayers,' Matteo repeated, in a terrible tone. Stuttering and sobbing, the child said the Paternoster and the Creed. With a loud voice the father said ' Amen' at the end of each. 'Are those all the prayers you know V ' Father, I know the Ave Maria too, and the Litany my aunt taught me.' ' It's a long Litany. Never mind.' The boy finished it in a failing voice. ' Have you done V ' Oh, father! Have pity ! Forgive mc ! I won't do it again ! I'll beg my uncle, the corporal, so hard for Gianetto that he'll let him off !' He was still speaking when Matteo put his gun on full cock and took aim, saying ' God forgive you !' The child made a desperate effort to jump up and throw himself at his father's knees, but he had not time to do it, Matteo fired, and Fortunato fell stark dead. Without casting a glance at the corpse, Matteo went towards his house to fetch a spade to bury his son. He had not gone far when he met Guiseppa, who hurried to the spot in terror, having heard the shot. ' What have you done V she cried. ' Justice !' * Where is he V 'ln the dell. I'm going to bury him. He died like a Christian. I'll have a Mass said for him. Tell my 6on-in-law, Tiodoro Bianchi, to come and live in our house.'
The boy threw him the coin he had had from him, feeling it was no longer his due, but the outlaw did not appear to notice the movement. He said very calmly to the adjutant: ' My dear Gamba, I can't walk. You'll have to carry me to the town.' While some of the voltiguers were making a kind of stretcher out of chestnut branches, and others were dressing Gianetto's wound, Matteo Falcone and his wife turned the corner of the path, coming from the maquis. Seeing the soldiers, Matteo'e first thought was that they had come to arrest him. ' Wife,' be said to Giuseppa, ' drop your sack and hold yourself in readiness.' She obeyed instantly. He handed her the gun he had been carrying across his shoulder, at it might interfere with his movements. The adjutant in his perplexity took the very courageous course of walking alone towards Matteo to explain matters to him. ' Goodday, brother' (Buon giorno, fratello, is the common greeting in Corsica), said the adjutant, holding out his hand. 'lt is a long time since I last saw you.' ' Good-day, brother.' ' I came to greet you as I was passing—you and my cousin Pepa. We have had a long tramp to-day ; but you need not pity, us if we are tired, for we have had a grand ' take.' We have just caught Gianetto Sanpiero. He killed one of my voltigeurs, and, not satisfied with that, he broke Corporal Chardon's arm. Had it not been for my little cousin, Fortunato, I should never have been able to catch him.' Fortunato had gone into the house when he saw his father, He camp out now with a bowl of milk which he offered to Gianetto. The boy kept his eyes down. ' Away with you !' roared the outlaw, in a voice of thunder. Then turning to one of the voltiguers, he said, ' Comrade, a drop to drink !' The soldier gave him his gourd. The adjutant gave the wor.-l to start ; said good-bye to Matteo, who made no reply ; and the party set out rapidly towards the plain. Nearly ten minutes went by before Matteo opened his mouth. The boy looked anxiously from father to mother. The father, leaning on his gun, eyed him with an expression of concentrated fury. ' A good beginning !' said Matteo at last, in a voice that was calm, but seemed terrible to those who understood the man. 'Father!' cried the boy, coining towards him with tears in his eyes, and seeming as iE he would throw himself at his father's feet. But Matteo shouted, f Away with you !' And the child stood still, sobbing, some paces from his father. Giuseppa came near. She had just noticed the watch chain, of which one end hung out from Fortunato's shirt-front. ' Who gave you that watch 1 ?' she asked harshly. 1 My cousin, the adjutant.' Falcone seized the watch, flung it against a stone, and it broke in a thousand fragments. ' Wife,' he said, ' is tliis a child of mine V Giuseppa's brown cheeks flushed up brick red. ' What are you saying Matteo? And do you remember to whom you are speaking'?' ' This boy, at any rate, is the first of his race that has ever played the traitor.' Fortunato's sebs came thick and fast. Falcone held him with his lynx eye. At last he struck the ground with the butt-end of his gun ; then he flung the weapon over hie shoulder, and started again for the raaqnis, calling to Fortunato to follow. The boy obeyed. Giuseppa ran after Matteo and caught him by the arm. 'Your own son,' she said, in a voice that trembled, while she fixed her black eyes on her husband's, as if she would read his very soul. ' Let me be,' Matteo answered. ' I'm his father.' Giuseppa kissed her child, and went back, crying, into the cottage. She threw herself on her knees before a picture of the Blessed Virgin, and prayed fervently, Meanwhile Falcone had walked a couple of hundred paces along the path, not pausing till he had reached a dell. Into this he went down. He sounded the ground with the butt of his gun, finding it soft and easy to dig, and he
The authorities of a church at Handford, California (says the New York Tribune), have entered into an agreement with their pastor whereby he will he equipped for a two years' sojourn in the Klondike, on condition that if he makes a rich strike he shall pay off the church debt. The congregation will take c.;re of his family during his absence. A notable case of bone-grafting has been reported to the Paris Academy of Medicine by M. Dubar, who performed reseecion of the wrist for tuberculous disease in a*girl aged teu years. With the idea ot giving firmness to the joint, M. Dubar, having removed the diseased bone, filled the gap with fragments taken from the femur of an eight-day puppy, with the result that the wrist is firm, painless, and movable. An X-ray photograph was taken, which showed that some of the transplanted fragments were lying iu the midst of newly-formed fibrous tissue, and others had grown into the remnants of the carpal bone. A singular incident is on record as having occurred on one of the Home railways. While the Euston-Bletcliley train was passing- between Bushey and Watford a small bird flew into the open window, and was almost instantly followed by a large sparrowhawk in close pursuit. The first dashed violently as ainst the opposite window-pane, and fell dead on the floor, whilst the hawk became entangled in the netted cord of one of the racks. After being suspended here a few seconds it flew violently up and down the carriage, and finally disappeared under the seat, from which hidinir place it was afterwards hunted out and killed. The hawk was a remarkable specimen of its species, beautifully marked and with a wide wing measurement. The Emperor of China, now that ho has come in contact with the Mailed Fist, is plainly taking an example of the leniency with which offending editors are treated in the Fatherland. The other day a Chinese editor having omitted, when quoting some dead Celestial emperors, to give them their full titles, was sentenced to be quartered. On reconsidering the matter, and no doubt after reading that his brother of Germany only clapped offending editors for some months into gaol, the Emperor of China commuted the sentence, and Nong tzi, the criminal, will only be beheaded. But in order that so vicious a family should not do any further harm the journalist's children share their father's fate. A teacher of an Indian school in the United States declares that the descendants of the wild red man are gifted with logical minds. " One of my Indian boys," says this teacher, " asked the meaning of ' miss.' " ' To miss,' said I, ' is the same thing as to fail. You shoot at a bird or at a mark, and do not hit it; you miss it. You go to a tailor for a coat, and your coat fits badly ; it is a misfit. You hope to enter the middle class next year, but you cannot pass the examinations, aud so you miss the promotion.' " His face wore a puzzled air, and he shook his head. "'Then,'said I, ' there is another meaning of the word. We call a married lady madam, but, an unmarried lady mis?.' " His face brightened ; he smiled ani nodded. " ' Ah, I fcea,' he said ; ' she has missed her man !' " Mr Balfour expressed his inability the other day to explain the helplessness of China in tho face of aggression. The feeling of national honour, the sense of service owed to the country, are dead amongst the citizens of the Celestial Empire. If in the race for wealth—if in the passionate desire for amusement—we, too, forget that noble character is the foundation of nations! strength, and that wherever and whenever heroic service to the nation has been rendered the names of those who gave it and the emblems and relics of their devotion should be for ever reverenced by their fellows, then, sooner or later, and sooner rather than later, the fate of the Chinese will be ours also, and as a derelict empire we shall drift to a destruction, and a partition, and a spoliation which we shall well have earned.—Navy League Notebook. The Germans have a somewhat remarkable set of laws relating to Sunday observance. As a rule, however, the cases which arise from it are of a humdrum nature, relating to such offences as hunting «"- the Day of Rest. The burgomaster of Schkenditz has, however, recently supplemented the law by an edict requiring the public under his administration to attire themselves on Sunday in a costume "worthy of the majesty of this day consecrated to the Lord." In defiance of this regulation a saddler, nimed Engelnian, took it into his head to walk the streets on Sunday in his working clothes.. The report does not state if he possessed any others. This contumacious person was accordingly brought to justice, fined three marks,
and condemned to a day'B imprisonment as punishment for the public scandal. This decision has been Bet aside on appeal ; but in doing so the Court censured him for " iucorrect and unseemly behaviour."
A case in which a professional hypnotist had been assaulted by a man under his " influence " was before the Birmingham magistrates recently. A young man named Herbert Underwood was charged with assaulting Dr. Walford Bodie, who was (giving a performance at the circus on Friday nighc. The prisoner threw a bottle at the doctor, and it smashed on the stage, a fragment striking him on the leg and iuflictiug a serious wound. Bedie had to be assisted into Court. The prisoner, in defence, said lie was mesmerized and did not know what he was doing. The docior " electrified him and stopped his breath." In consequence of the prisoner's rambling statements, he was remanded for an examination to be made as to his mental condition. Dr. Wolford Bodie had to undergo an operation on Monday. The glass bottle which struck him on the leg has poisoned the wound. His assailant has now been certified as insane, and has been removed to an asylum. A Pekin despatch (says the North China Herald) reports the death, in the prisons of the Board of Puuishments, of another of the generals coufined there on the charge of cowardice during the war with Japan, and awaiting the execution wh : ch never came through the liberal distribution of the never-failing silver sycee. The general whose death is now reported was Huang Shih-lin, who deserted his brigade at the time of the capture of Port Arthur by the Japanese Army, but was eventually captured, disguised as a Buddhist priest, somewhere near Cmton. The general whose death preceded the present one was Chiang Hsi-yi, who abandoned the port of Newchwang to the Japanese without firing a shot iu its defence. The latter's other misdemeanour was that after bringing his brigade safely to Tient-sin he reported to the Viceroy Waug a number of bogus victories and encounters with the enemy which never occurred. This man, like the other generals undergoing imprisonment in the Board of Punishments, was also awaitiug execution when he died a year ago la§"t March. The special correspondent of the Daily News writes :—The fight over, 1 vißited. the Dervish deym. The Bcene waß an unspeakably terrible one, and I will not dwell upon its horrors. But thero were some painfully pathetic sights as well as horrible. In one little rifle-pit, for instance, knelt a black rifleman shot through tho head, while in the act of firing, while beside him, also dead, sat a girl, her lap full of cartridges, and one in her fingers which 6he had ready to hand to her man. In a good many places.too, we found men who had been chained to their places iu the trenches. This was in punishment of some offence, probably a divined intention or a frustrated attempt to desert to us. But perhaps what struck one most—for after we expected to see dead men, and there were over 2000 of them—was the extraordinary number of dead animals—horses (though not many), camels and donkeys. The number of these last was literally prodigious. They were all fastened down in separate pits, both their fore and hind legs being tightly bound up with palm cords, so that they should have no chance of moving. I do not suppose anyone in the world has ever seeu so many dead donkeys before at one time. A young clerk had breathed his last a few hours earlier, after four days' suffering at a temperature of 107 deg., and now they were laying him to rest. A deputation from the steamer attended, and the scene was a striking one, impressive because ot the. curious miDgling of the pathetic and grotesque. Four naked Krooboys were busy baling the water out of a 3-foot trench, while a white trader stood above them, mumbling something from the book held in a shaking hand—and an alcohol-soaked trader stumbling over the solemn words of the last office is not a seemly sight. A rough deal box, such as 'long-Dane ' guns are shipped in, lay sinking in tne ooze, and a few dripping msn stood bareheaded in the rain. Then at a signal, the naked aliens tumbled the case into the trench —and it refused to sink. Clods were flung upon it; but the buoyant deal rose stubbornly to the surface, until two Krooboys stood upon it to hold it down, and the mould shovelled about their knees. Afterwards a cotton-wood log was laid upon the whole, in case it might break through yet ; and as we hurried away a mate expressed the feelings of the rest by soying, ' When my time comes I'll hold on lurd until you can launch me from under the ensign into clean blue water."—From ' Life and Death in the Niger Delta,' in ' Blackwood's Magazine.' In his speech at the Primrose League, Lord Salisbury said : —Then it is said, " Very well, but you have lost pretnge with the Chinese." Prestige is a very powerful missile which anybody can fling in anybody else's face; but generally, when I see foreign newspapers telling us that England has lost her prestige it means that they want us to take some of their chestnuts out of the fire. (Laughter and cheers.) But have we lost our influence with the Chinese ? The proof of the pudding is in the eating. (Hear, hear.) We have gained results from China which we have longed for for years, but have never had a chance of gaining before. We have induced her to open several more ports. We have induced her to promise to us permanently an Englishman at the head of the Maritime Customs, and we have induced her to open all the waterways of the< Empire to English boats and English tr*de. (Cheers.) Three years ago one year ago, such a result would have been held to be impossible, and that we should have been able to obtain this appears to me to be a sufficient, conclusive, , final answer to those who tell us that by recent negotiations wo have lost influence or prestige with the Chinese. (Loud cheers.) Now there is only one thing I wish to say more. Do not imagine that this imbroglio that has taken place in China is exceptional in its character, or that similar things will not recur. If we look simply upon the world as it presents itself to us, if we could mere'y count our colonies and our possessions and our growing enormous trade, we might, indeed, look forward to the future without disquietude. We know that we shall maintain against all comers that which we possess, and we know, in spite of the jargon about isolation, that we arc amply competent to do so. (Cheers) But that will not secure the peace of the world.
Ye athletes, all who bike or run, Or row or bike, or may have done, Know that of all the human ills You're subject most to colds and chills. But both will disappear, be sure, By taking Wooda' Great Peppermint Cure, g A small piece of cheese and an electric wire form the latest rat-trap. The cheese is fixed to the wire, and the instant the rat touches the cheese he receives a shock which kills him. H. H. Howden, Jeweller, Hamilton, an supply splendid Nickle Lever Watches at 35s each ; guaranteed good timekeepers. Forwarded to any address, on receipt.of P.O. Order.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAIGUS18980702.2.42.2
Bibliographic details
Waikato Argus, Volume V, Issue 309, 2 July 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)
Word Count
7,654The Storgteller. THE GOLDEN TRAP. Waikato Argus, Volume V, Issue 309, 2 July 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)
Using This Item
No known copyright (New Zealand)
To the best of the National Library of New Zealand’s knowledge, under New Zealand law, there is no copyright in this item in New Zealand.
You can copy this item, share it, and post it on a blog or website. It can be modified, remixed and built upon. It can be used commercially. If reproducing this item, it is helpful to include the source.
For further information please refer to the Copyright guide.