"ALMA."

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2079, 10 June 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

"ALMA."

Am Original Australian Sjoky, IT HAROLD STEPHEN Esq,, M.P. OF SEW SOUTH WALKS. I All Riqhts Reserved.! CHAPTER LVH.-(CosTixutD.) He premed tbe knob as)he spoke, and immediately e piece of the moulding flew open, end e shallow reoese wee disclosed to view.

Harry immediately ineerted his band, and drew forth e wig I A common bald wig, such as is in nee amongst actors for “ old men ” parts. “By George I Tbe old villain most have been masquerading ! I wonder wbat is to follow I A domino perhaps, lei’s see.” Tbe next dive into tbe recess produced a small tin box, which, on being opened, disclosed to view e set of pigments for colouring the (aoe, a hare's-foot, some'gum shellac and some bail made op into thick grey eyebrows.

Harry applied himself once more to the nates, and was rewarded this time by a small handle of letters.

“ Now,” said he, “am I justified in reading thaw letters? Doubtless they are merely one tide of some amatory correspondence in which our worthy uncle has been engaged, and, if so, they would be amusing, always provided they are within comprehension. Yes, I see they are from England, and therefore presumably in English. Shall 1 1 It is a dirty, nngentlemanly trick, Mr. Harry Laseelies, and ntteily unworthy of yaar father's son. But, on tbe other hand, we are at war with our uncle, and, in warfare, I have never beard that it is wrong to read the enemy’s correspondence. I’ll just open one —take a peep at it—and, if I find it does not concern onr affair I'll stop. The temptation to discover the secrets of the prisonhonaa is altogether tog much for me; and, aayway.il is Alma's fault, fur, if she bad not left me, I should not bare luen here—*o here goes I” One minute later a new expression came acroes Mr. Htrry Lasoelles’ (aca, and he deliberately set to work to read through the bundle. When he had concluded, ha indulged in a long-drawn whistle of astonishment.

“ The old villain ! The audacious scoundrel I" he muttered. “(Jaloraform his dying father! Pacw! This just beats all I’ve ever beard or read, ev. n in the tnriiliag romances of the great G.W. V. f’. ynoida ! Shall 1 tell Alma / Better not, perhaps—the poor child has still a sue iking regard (or that old villain, and I don't want to make her unhappy in her honeymoon. But we most get to London at on o'! The trial was to begin some day this week, and. even now, we may arrive too lue. I eup-iose I must soia some lie to account for mil hurried departure—a telegram from the old governor will do—she will never suspect me, or ask to see it. Oh, my nchle Professor, this just adds another count to the indie; mcntTve get against yon ! Spoilt ray honeymoon, yon have, most certainly ; but 1 guess yon 11 have to pay (or it I”

Alma felt amazed and grieved at the proposed curtailment of their honeymoon, but Harry had judged rightly, she relied uj on him implicitly, and hurried away to pack op without even alluding to the suppositions telegram.

Sre many hoars had elapsed, they were oaae more et sea, haring been fortunate ewoogfa to eatcb the steamer lot London et Hamburg.

CHAPTEB LVIII. IMS VriICBT OF IHu mix. Aa Harry Luoeiles entered the witness, box, the Professor and his solicitor each felt 0 pong of Tagne alarm—they knew not mat was to come, but inspected that their oaao would suffer more from the evidence of this witneaa than from any that had gone baiOie. “Tour name is Henry Lasceilea?’’ began Ms. Curtis. " Yst,” replied Harry. “ What are yon, and where do you Knr " I lira near Bathurst, in Mew Booth Wales, and 1 am a squatter." “A what?" asked the Lord Chief. JnatM.

“ A squatter, my lord," explained Mr. Curtis. “It is the local name for a grazier on • Urge aaale. You were,” be continued, ■ddr—ring Harry, “recently married to Kiel Alma Tredegar, niece of the plaintiff?” “ I waa.” “ And yon want to spend your honeymoon In Orabenthal, in the house where the plaintiff had resided lor many yean ?" “ I did.” “Be good enongh now to tell the court what yon found there.” “ I cannot see the use of wasting time in enquiring how Mr. Lasceilea spent bis ho—ymcion,” exclaimed Mr. Bumptious, in his jocular manner, “rsahapa you cannot, bat we can,” re* tinted Mr. Curtis. “Go on,sir 1" This to Bony, who was just thinking bow very o*—h ho would enjoy a private interview with Ur. Bnmptious in some selected spot ■hot time was plenty ol room and nobody tihtirioi with them.

Bus ha w:>3 rcallcd to the business on hand. agj proceeded to relate the finding of the thirds bs recounted in the last chapter. Whiht he was speaking the Professor felt as if he were about to faint, and Thistlsthwailo. fearing a scene, led him out of the court without ariract’ng much attention, as all eyes wore beat upon the witness. 11 What is the matter ? Wnat has he discovered ?■’ naked the solicitor, as soon as they reached the i.bby.

"Ail is loM," murmured tho Pro f esscr, wil l- 1 : great toads of perspiration rolled down hi? face. "By some cursed chance I I f-irgot t) des-ray your letters, and they h&vs fallen into young Lundies’ hands, together with the wig cud make-up box 1 bought, you know when." ‘Pool!” hissed Thistle thwaite. “You have probably ruined ns! But we must btr.ren it out. We will swear they are forgeries—l must see Bumptious at once. Don't you come into court again until you are able to look less guilty. Paii I I might have known you'd spoil everything by some infernal folly !" Meanwhile the examination went on. ‘ You found a wig such as is used by actors to dismiss themselves as old men?" asked Mr. Curtis. "1 did," replied Harry. "Here it

Mr. Bumptious here made another effort to interfere, being incited thereto by Thifitlethwaite. who had just crept back tu his side, and who hoped, against conviction, that eo'.neihing might be done to prevent the impending disastrous disclosures. But the effort was in vain, and, after a brief wrangle, Mr, Curtis was permitted to proceed.

“ You also found a box containing paints and a poir of false Eyebrows, together with some shellac which is used to stick them on the (ace V

“ Yes/’ replied Harry, handing over the box which, together with the wig was passed to the judge, and from him to the jury. "You also found some letters? These letters, in fact, which I hold in my hand ?”

After a brief inspection of the letters, Harry acquiesced, and they were then formally put in evidence by Mr. Curtis, and read oat by the judge’s associate. The first of these letters was that ono from Thistlethwaite to the Professor, apprising the latter of his father’s dangerous illness, and urging him to come to England without delay. Two others, from the same to the same, served only, by their tone, to show that very intimate relations subsisted between tbe two parties, but the last is sufficiently important to be given in extenso. It ran as follows ‘My dear Professor.

“We shall lick them yet.* Sumner is nowhere to be found, but, before he disappeared from his accustomed haunts, be managed to earn for himself a character which leads me to feel certain that he will be amenable to reason, if we cau only lay hold of him. Don’t waste any more time in Germany, but come over at once. 1 had many a hearty laugh over that will business. By Jove, you are a genius and no mistake. It is not every man who would think of chloroforming his own father, and then personating him in bis own bouse. Such a stroke deserves success, even if it doee not command it. Come without losing another moment. “ Faithfully Yours “ Jcsiaii Tuistlethwaite/' * [lt will be seen that this letter must have been written after the reading of the will,and during the Professor’s final visit to Grabenthal.] An immense sensation was created in court by tbe reading of this epistle, and all eye a were turned upon Thistlethwaite, who, be it said to his credit as a lawyer, managed to preserve a look of astonishment as child-like and bland as if he had been Bret Hart’s Heathen Chinee.

Harry was now handed over to the tender mercies of Mr. Bumptious, who bullied and insulted him for over an hour,, but without, of course, in the slightest degree shaking bis evidence, or even damaging his character in the eyes of the jury. The case (or the defence closed here, and rebutting evidence was then taken on behalf of the plaintiff. Thistlethwaite being recalled, swore that he did not write the letter last read to the court; might have written the others, but that certainly was a moat impudent forgery. Believed that Mr. Laseelles bad found the letters, as be had sworn, but that he, or someone else in the interest of the defendant, bad withdrawn from the envelope an innocent epistle which it contained, and substituted for it the forgery, having previously obtained some of his note-paper. Admitted that the imitation of bis writing and signature was so good that be himself might have been deoieved by it. Under cross-examination, Mr. Tbiatlethwaite behaved beautifully, his air of injured innocence being so admirably assumed that it evidently made an impression on the jury.

Then followed one two of the house-ser-vants of the late Jamee Tredegar, who swore that they had seen, and recognised, their master as he eat up in bed, just prior to the signing of the will, and who also said that on re-entering his room, alter the lawyer and hie clerk had left, they had not detected any odor of chloroform.

"The room smelt of medicine, of course,” asked Mr. Curtis, of each of them. They admitted that it did, but not more (ban had been the case since their master first fell sick.

Mr. Curtis did, however, succeed in throwing aome donbt upon the credibility of these witnesses, by eliding the fact that they were directly interested in the suit, as, if the plaintiff gained the day, they would inherit legacies under the will in question. The medical attendant of the late James Tredegar was also re called, and swore that nothing in the appearance of the deceased gentleman led .him to believe that chloroform bad been administered in the way suggested. “ It is, however, quite possible that Mr. Tredegar might have* been subjected to the influence of chloroform without your suspecting it?' 1 asked Mr, Curtis, in cross-examina-tion.

*• Scarcely, I think,” was the reply, given with some hesitation. ” The deceased was in such a weak state that chloroform would probably have killed him at once; and, in any case, there would have been unmistakable evidence of the shock to the system.” . “ When you saw him, prior to this willsigning businestqhe was able to converse with you, was he not ?” Yes."

'■ And afterwards he could not speak, but remained speechless until he died 1 Surely that was sufficient evidence that he had been subjected to some shook?”

At this distance of time it is impossible lot me to remember whether Mr. Tredegar was speechless or not when I saw him alter the will was signed,” said the doctor, with some irritation. “ I only know that he died that night, and that he was spcSSness lor tome hoars previous to his death." “ Are you also an expectant legatee if the plaintiff gains this suit ?” asked Mr. Curtis, who began to lose his temper ae the difficulties accumulated.

The doctor flashed scarlet. "Amlto be insulted in this fashion, my lord ?” he asked, Inning to the Lord Obicf Justice.

11 The question is perfectly legitimate, sir,” replied the Chief Justice, 11 It has been addressed to other witnesses for the plaintiff, and I seo no reason why you should claim an exemption.' 1

“ Now, sir, you have heard his lordship," said Mr, Curtis. “ Be good enough to answer my question: are you an expectant legatee under the will?" Since you have the will before you, you know ss well as Ido that I am. But, if you insinuate that any hope of personal advantage would—” “ That will do, sir—wo do not went any heroics—it is enough for us that yon admit you are interested in the suit.” The hour being now fete, the court was adjourned until tho following morning. “ Our prospects brighten,” said Thistlethwaite to the Professor,as they walked away with Mr. Bumptious and Mr, Walton. “ That jewel of a doctor floored Curtis beautifully 1”

■‘ We shall win,” said Mr. Bumptious, confidently, I am certain that the court is with us, and the jury too. Sumner’s evidence will just fix the matter up beyond a doubt.” In the opposite camp there was no such cortidence expressed or felt. Mr. Freeman, who was naturally of a far from hopeful temperament, took but a gloomy view ol their prospects, and was, to a certain extent supoorted by Sergeant Jekyll, who, however, based bis doubts upon the assumption that, there was some damaging evidence yet forthcoming ; but added that, if nothing fresh transpired, they had a very good case wherewith to go to the jury. Nevertheless, when the sergeant was alone with Mr. Curtis, bo. shrugged his shoulders, took a pinch of snuff, and declared be did not know what to make of it. " What do you think?” asked Mr. Curtis.

“ I don’t know what to think. Our people are the roost honorable, but the ease for tho other side is by fat the most probable. If you ask me what I believe, I tell you frankly that I believe we are telling the truth, and Thistlethwaite and Stephen Tredegar are a pair of clever swindlers—but I very much doubt cur ability to bring the jury to that view of the affair.”

11 If they should produce this missing witness, Sumner, and he disowns his signature, we are lost past redemption,” said Mr. Curtis, with a sigh. “ Just so. If they do we might ks well throw up our briefs, for all the good we can do, and retire gracefully.”

CHAPTER LIX. A SURPRISE. In a small, quiet, public-house, situated at the corner of a narrow street near Hungerlord market, Thomas Sumner, alias Johnson, alias Vanderdeoken, had taken up his quarters. But dew meetings had taken place between him and the Professor, and Thistlethwaite had only visited him onoe for the purpose of coaching him in his evidence,

He was to appear in court on tbe morrow, and the prospect was not without its terrors to him. Apart from the question of the perjury he was prepared to commit —and, sooth to say, he had little apprehension on that score—there was the terrible fact that he would be placed in a position where it was just possible he might be recognised; for he knew well that Bertie Leraoorte was, or had recently been, in England, and he could not satisfy himself but that he might be identified as the pirate Vanderdeoken. It is true that his appearance was much changed since the day when they had met. Ho was then attired in semi-nautical rig, and was clean shaven ; whereas now he had a full, bushy beard, and his costume approached as nearly as possible to the clerical, as he had assumed black cloth and a white necktie—but still the chance rsmaimed, and ha felt that the risk was enormous. To drown thought, and nerve himself for the task, ha bad invited his landlord to the parlor he occupied, and the two were sitting there, drinking whisky and water, and playing oribbage, when Thistlethwaite and the Professor entered the room. " Hullo !” exclaimed Sumner. “ It’s yo u is it 1 Just in time for a game—we'll make it four-handed. Come, sit down, and oaU for your grog. What’ll you have ?”

“ Business first and pleasure afterwards,” replied Thistlethwaite. " That’s my motto, and it's worth sticking to. Let us have out talk first—and a glass of whisky if you like—and then we’ll see about the cribbage.” The landlord took the bint, and retired, having previously supplied the newcomers with grog, and then the Professor began. •‘We came to sea how yon feel. You know what you have got to say, and how to say it. Are you sure you will be right in the morning ?”

“ That’s exactly what I’m not sure at all,” was the unexpected reply. “ I tell you I don’t think it’s worth while to show up . t all.”

11 Just leave us alone for a bit, mate,” be said to the landlord, as he took a seat at the table. “Me and this gentleman has got some business to talk over, so perhaps you’ll excuse us." The voice seemed strangely familiar to Sumner, but he was not long left iu doubt, for, as soon as the door closed behind the landlord, the stranger stept forward and turned the key, and then, stripping off his false beard, stood confessed as Bertie Leracorte I

“ What the devil do you mean?” ihouted the Professor angrily. “Gently, my good sir,” said Thistlethwaite— “ gently! Allow me to ask Mr. Sumner lor an explanation of his most extraordinary statement.” " 1 mean what I say,” said Sumner, doggedly. “ And I'm not going to be drove to commit perj—”

“ You herel” cried Sumner, in an agony of fear.

“ Hush 1” cried (he lawyer, hastily. “Don’t make any statements—never commit yourself to statements—and don’t use ugly words. Tell ns now what ia your objection to giving evidence 7” “ Simply that it don’t pay.” “ Hot pay; yet, if I understood my friend Professor Tredegar aright, he owes you ten thousand pounds, which will be worth so many farthings if he looses the suit.” “ I don’t want the money. Got enough of my own as it is," said Sumner, obstinately. “ 1 fear you ate mistaken,” replied Thistletbwaite, “ Yon had some money, certainly, but you are not likely to get it again in a burry.”

“ I'm glad you recognise me,” said Bertie. “ Yes, Mr, Sumner, alias Johnson, aliat Vanderdeoken, I am here, and 1 think it is time you threw up the sponge!" Sumner bent forward, and hid his face between his hands—the blow was so crushing that he could not even relieve himeejf by swearing 1 Bertie continued

“ I have followed you many a mile, and found you at last. Kow 1 know all about you —all about your intended perjury, and I came to save you." Sumner looked up. Was there any hope, then?

“ 1 have coma to tell yon what you will do; You will go into the witness-box tomorrow as a witness for the plaintiff, leaving Thistlethwaite and his associate to believe that you are about to forswear yourself. You will tell only tbe truth, and, in return, I will not denounce you to the police. Moreover, 1 have in my possession your circular notes and bills of exchange—"

“ You have them 1” “ Yes— and after I have deducted the plunder you took from the Pride *o( tbe Ocean, there will still remain a handsome balance with which yon can begin a new life in America. Do you consent 7"

Public interest in the great trial was so great that the court was crowded to excess on the last day of bearing. When Mr. Curtis called “Thomas Sumner I” a groan broke from Mr. Freeman, and he faintly murmured : “ It’s all up J” “Note bit of it!” a cheery voice whispered in bis ear, and, turning, he beheld Bertie Leraoorte, who, in a few words, put him in possession of the facts of the case, and the surprise that was in store for the enemy. “ Your name is Thomas Sumner 7” asked Mr. Curtis, when the witness bad been sworn, “ It is.”

“ Why ? What makes you say so ?” asked Sumner, eagerly. “Because Lhappen to know that suspicions are entertained that you did not come by that money fairly, and you will not be allowed to touch it until you have given very good evidence that it is lawfully yours.”

(To In ’ run/iininl.) A Judicial Crime*

“ Perdition 1” exclaimed Snmner. “ Just so, or ruin, which is a great deal worse. Now, look here—do your duty by us, and you will be able to do without that other money, should yon find it awkward to answer the questions that will be put to you.” It is not necessary to pursue this conversation any further, suffice it to say that, by dint of alternately bullying and cajoling, Thistlethwaite succeeded in bringing the recalcitrant witness into a proper frame ol mind, and he finally promised to accompany the lawyer to court at ten o’clock on the following morning.

Bl Wilkie jOqllinb. Just prior to the American revolution, a Bristol trader arrived in the harbor of Boston, having one passenger on board. This person was a young English woman named Esther Calvert, a daughter of a shop-keeper at Cheltenham and niece of the captain of the ship. Some years before her departure from England Esther had suffered an afflictionassociated with a deplorable public event—which had shaken her attachment to her native land. Free, at a later period, to choose for herself, she resolved on leaving England as soon as employment could be found for her in another country. After a weary interval of expectation, the sea-captain had obtained a situation tor his niece as housekeeper in the family of a Mrs. Anderkid, a widow lady living in Boston, Esther had been well practiced in domestic duties during the long illness liter mother. Intelligent, modest, and sweet-tempered, ehe soon became a favourite with Mre. Anderkin and the members of her young family. The children found but one fault with the new housekeeper—she dressed invariably in dismal black, and it was impossible to prevail upon her to give the cause. It was known that she was an orphan, and she had acknowledged that no relations of hers had recently died, and yet she persisted in wearing mourning. Some great grief had evidently overshadowed thr life of the gentle English housekeeper. in her intervals of leisure, she soon became the chosen friend of Mrs. Anderkin's children; always ready to teach them new games, clever at dressing the girl’s dolls and at mending the boys’ toys. Esther was in one respect only, not in sympathy with her young friends —she never laughed. One day, they boldly put the question to her; “ When we are all laughing, why don’t you laugh too?” Esther only replied in these words; “ 1 shall think it kind of you it you won’t ask me that question again.” The young people deserved hex confidence in them; they never mentioned the subject from that day forth.

But there was another member of the family, whose desire to know something of the housekeeper’s history was, from motives of delicacy, concealed from Esther herself. This was the governess—Mrs, Anderkin’s well-loved friend, as well as the teacher of her children.

One day before be sailed on his homeward voyage, the sea«Oßptain called to take leave of bis nieoe—and then asked it he could also pay bis respects to Mrs. Anderkin. He was informed that the lady of the house bad gone out, but that the governess would be happy to recive him. At the interview which followed, they talked of Esther, and agreed so well in their good opinion of her, that the captain paid a long visit. The governess had persuaded him to tell the story of his niece's wasted life. But he insisted on one condition. “If wc had been in England,” be said, “ 1 should have kept the matter secret, for the sake of the family. Here, in America, Esther is a stranger—here she will stay—and no slut will be cast on the family name at home. But mind one thing; I trust to your honor to take no one into your confidence—excepting only the mistress of the house.” This was Esther's sad story;

In the year 1762, a young man named John Jennings, employed as a waiter at a Yorkshire inn, astonished his master by announcing that he was engaged to be married, and that be purposed retiring from his service on next quarter day. Further inquiry showed that the young woman’s name was Esther Calvert, and that Jennings was greatly her inferior in social rank. Her father’s consent to the marriage depended on her lover’s success in rising in the world. Friends with money were inclined to trust Jennings, and to help him to start a business of his own, if Miss Calvert's father would do something for the young people on his side. He made no objection, and the marriage engagement was sanctioned accordingly. One evening, when the last days of Jennings’s service were drawing to an end, a gentleman on horseback stopped at the inn. In a state of great agitation, he informed the landlady that ho was on his way to Hull, but that he had been so frightened as tomake it impossible for him to continue his journey. A highwayman had robbed him of a purse containing twenty guineas. The thief’s face (as usual in those days) was concealed by a mask, and there was but one ohanoe of bringing him to* justice. It was the traveller’s custom to place a private mark on every gold piece that he carried with him on a journey, and the stolen guineas might possibly be traced in that way. The landlord (one Mr. Brunnei!) attended on his guest at supper. His wife bad only at that moment told him of the robbery; and he had a circumstance to mention which might lead to the discovery of the thief. In the first place, however, he wished to ask at what time the crime had bden committed. The traveller answered that he had been robbed late in the evening, just as it was beginning

Hssiuting Sumner's entreaties that they would “ make up a four-handed game of eribbage," the Professor and his solicitor left, but hardly had the door closed behind them, than it was re opened by the landlord to admit another visitor.

There entered a tall, bulky man, with a huge red beard, which concealed all but bis yes and the tip ol his nose.

(o get dark. On bearing this, Mr. Brannell locked very much distressed. ■' I have got a waiter here named Jennings," te said, "a man superior to hie station in life --good manners and lair education —in fact, a general favorite. But, for some time past, I have observed that he has been rather free with his money in betting, and that habits of drinking have grown on him. _ I am afraid be is not worthy of the good opinion entertained of him by myself and by other persons. This evening I sent him oat to get some small silver for me, giving him a guinea to change. He came back intoxicated, telling me that change was not to be bad. I ordered him to bed, and then happened to look at the guinea wbioh he bad brought back. Unfortunately, I bad not at that time heard of the robbery, and I paid the guinea away with some other money, in settlement of a tradesman’s account. But this 1 am sure of, there was a mark on the guinea which Jennings gave back to me. It is, of courses possible that there might have been a mark (which escaped my notice) on the guinea which I took out of my purse when I sent for change.”^ 11 Or,” the traveller suggested," it may have been one of my stolen guineas, given back by mistake, by this drunken waiter of yours, instead of the guinea handed to him by yourself. Do you think he is asleep 7” " Sure to be asleep, sir—in his condition.” ”Do you object, Mr. Brunnell, after what you have told me, to setting this matter at rest by searching the man’s clothes 7" The landlord hesitated. “ It seems hard on Jennings,” he said, “ il we prove to have been suspicious of him without a cause. Can you speak poeitively, sir, to the mark wbioh you put on the money 7” The traveller declared that he could (wear to his mark. Mr. Brunnel yielded. The two went up together to the waiter's room.’ Jennings was fast asleep. At the very outset of the search, they found the stolen bag of money in his pooket. The guineas—nineteen in number—had a mark on each one of them and that mark the traveller identified. After this discovery, there was but one course to take. The waiter’s protestations of innocence when they woke him and accused him of the robbery, were words flatly contradicted by foots. He was charged before a magistrate with the theft of the money, and, as a matter of coarse was committed lor trial. The circumstances were so strongly against him that his own frienda recommended Jennings to plead guilty, and appeal to the mercy of the court. He refused to follow iheir advice, and be was bravely encouraged io persist in that decision by the poor girl, cho believed in his innocence with her whole heart. At that dreadful crisis in her life she secured the best legal assistance, and took from her little dowry the money that paid the expenses. At the next assises the ease was tried. The proceeding before the judge was a repetition (at great length and with more solemnity) of the proceedings before the magistrate. No skill in cross-examination could shake the direct statements of the witnesses. The evidence was made absolutely complete, by the appearance of the tradesman to whom Mr. Brunnel bad paid the marked guinea. The coin (so marked) was a curiosity; the man had kept it, apd he now produced it in court.

The judge summed up, finding literally nothing that he could say, as an honest man, in favor of the prisoner. The jury returned a verdict of guilty, after a consultation whioh was a mere matter of form. Clearer oironmstanlial evidence of guilt had never been produced, in the opinion of every person—but 0Qe —who was present at the trial. The sentence on Jennings for highway robbary was, by the law of those days, death on the scaffold. Friends were found to keep Esther in the last effort that the faithful oreatnre could now make—the attempt to obtain a commutation of the sentence. She was admitted to an interview with the Home Secretary, and her petition was presented to the king. Here, again, the indisputable evidence forbade the exercise of mercy. Esther’s betrothed husband was banged at Hull. His last words declared his innocence—with a rope around hie neck. Before a year bad passed, the one poor consolation that she could hope for, in this world, found Esther in her misery. The proof that Jennings had died a martyr to the fallibility of human justice was made public by the confession of the guilty man. Another criminal trial took place at the assizes. The landlord of an inn was found guilty dt having stolen the property of a person staying in bis bouse. It was stated in evidence that this was not his first offence. He had been habitually a robber on the highway, and bis name was Brunnell. The wretch confessed* that he was the masked highwayman who had stolen the bag of guineas. Biding, by a nearer way than was known to the traveller, be had reached the inn first. There he found a person in trade waiting by appointment for the settlement of a bill. Hot having enough money of bis own about him to pay the whole amount, Brunnell had made use of one of the stolen guineas, and had only heard the, traveller declare that bis money was marked after the tradesman bad left the house. To ask for the return of the fatal guinea was more than he dared to attempt. But one other alternative presented itself. The merciless villain insured his own safety by the sacrifice of an innocent man. >

After the time when the sea-captain bad paid bis visit at Mrs. Andetkin’s house, Esther’s position became subject to certain changes. One little domestic privilege followed so gradually and so modestly that the housekeeper found herself a loved and honored member of the family, without being able to trace by what succession of events she bad risen to the new place that she occupied. The secret confided to the two ladies had been strictly preserved; Esther never even suspected that they knew the deplorable story of her lover’s death. Her life, after what she had suffered, was not prolonged to a great age. Bbe died—peacefully unconscious of the terrors of death. Her last words were spoken with a smile. She looked at the loving friends assembled round her bed, and said to them: “My dear one is waiting for me. Good-bye.” “Ml Never Tell.” DV WM. BXRUTHERS, I'll never tell I Though, girls, you’ve teased with zest, The truth from me you never shall compel. Though other girls such matters have confessed, I’ll never tell 1 What he said not? Oh, yea 1 that, Nell and Bell, I'm ready to declare at your request I What he did say 7 No, no, sly Bell and Noll I Still he talked not at what you'd call his beat— Yet seemed his words like drops from Beauty's - well I But what they were —that, girls, I do attest, I'll never tell.

Sir John Lubbock says that ants have a means of recognizing each other not easily explained. The recognition is immediate and complete, even after an absence of a year from the nest.” The recognition in human families is not quite so immediate. For instance, when an aunt—a poor aunt—from the country visits a city nest occupi*d by*rich relatives, after an absence of only aix months she is not, recognized so suddenly and impulsively as to make tier feel other than k unwelcome stranger,