CAPTAIN TOM.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue XIII, 28 March 1896, Page 358

CAPTAIN TOM.

A NOVEL.

BY

ST. GEORGE RATH BORNE.

Author of * Doctor Jack,’ ‘ Doctor Jack’s Wife,’ etc. CHAPTER VI. (Continued). The girl suddenly starts and listens. * I hear voices—they come ! An revoi/\ Monsieur Tom, .and remember I may be near when least, you expect it. You will see strange things. The good Father above protect you and save poor, unhappy France !’ She is gone as suddenly as she appeared ; these words have been breathed into the ears of the American rather than spoken, and he is left there alone. Not for long ; already has he caught the sounds that frightened away his good angel and it is evident that the speakers approach, so he once more lies in his chair as though bereft of his senses, his head resting on his left shoulder. They enter the room. A man’s voice sounds among the others, and its full, rich tones arouse a warm feeling in the heart of the American. It is Mickey McCray. The latter is a man of considerable education, and as smart as he is witty. He has looked up to Captain Tom as his saviour, and would lay down his life if need be for the American. Like his employer, Mickey is a rolling stone, a soldier of fortune, ready to float with the wind, but when once set in his way, impossible to move. The manner of their meeting was singular, and may be briefly mentioned. Strange things occur in Paris every day, and none may wonder that an impulsive Irishman like Mickey McCray usually found himself in a scrape with each revolving twenty-four hours. Months before, when the siege was only talked about a?- a mere possibility. Captain Tom found himself one of a crowd ot thousands pressing around the Tour de St. Jacques in the Rue de Rivoli, and gazing upward. From mouth to mouth word went that a ciazy man had gone to the top of the tower to leap oil as the result of a foolish bet. The excitable French temperamerit showed itself, and there was as great a commotion in the neighbourhood as though the ghost of Bonaparte had appeared. Then a man was seen on top of the tower. It was from this place history tells us the signal for the massacre of the Huguenots was given nearly three hundred years before. This figure advanced to the edge above and then seemed appalled at, the sea of faces below. A thousand tongues shouted out to him, arms were waved to keep him from his mad purpose. Then several gendarmes made their appearance on the high tower of St. Jacques, and the madman was in custody.

Captain Tom, urged by curiosity, fought a way in to see the prisoner, as he suspected he was a foreigner, an Irishman, and when he heard Mickey McCray’s story he was tempted to laugh, on'y that the poor fellow looked so downcast in the hands of the officers.

It was only a wager. A companion had made a bet that he could have two thous and persons gathered around the tower in the time it took Mickey to mount the stairs, giving five seconds to a step. He had circulated this staitling report, and won the wager, but afraid of the fury of the crowd, he had fled, leaving the victim of his practical joke in the toils. Captain Tom took to the Irishman on sight.

He recognised a kindred spirit, and following to the police headquarters hud interceded for the now alarmed Mickey. By some secret power the American got him oil with only a warning never to attempt such a feat again, for the authorities seemed determined to believe that his wager was really to make a jump from the Tour de St. Jacques, trusting to the good luck that hovers over fools and Irishmen to save his life.

From that hour Mickey McCray had been the devoted friend of the American. There is nothing under the sun he would not attempt it Captain Tom expressed a wish. Why he is in the service of the fair Alsatian. the spy of Von Moltke, the reader can doubt'ess guess with little trouble. It has not been done without a deep purpose, and the American now seems in a fair way to reap the full benefit of his strategy.

Three persons enter the apartment. They are Linda, the Irishman, and a nun. Ah tho German spy has -o great an influence over the Lady Superior, the lay sifters and nuns are ready to obey her slightest request : • You see,’ says the fair Alsatian, 4 it is as I told you. He appears to be dead, but in l ruth he only sleeps.’

Mickey takes up one of the American’s arms and lets it drop : it falls heavily. * Begorra, it's precious little life there is in his body. It I could gabber French like a parrot I’d be after giving ye my opinion of this business, bad luck —murder.’dancing like a dervish in a Constantinople mosque. • What ails you ♦’ demar ds Linda, eyeing the man suspiciously, as though she fears that he may have taken leave of his senses ‘Sure it’s my belief a rat bit me toe, or else 1 stepped on a darned tack,’ roars McCray, all the while perfectly aware of the fact that it rias been the foot of Captain Tom that has so suddenly descended upon his own with a grinding emphasis. The effect is gained. Stopped in the middle of his tirade, Mickey does not again attempt to free his mind, and the disclo-

sure of his own relations with the American is for the time being at least rendered obscure. The nun has not a word to say ; perhaps she is under a vow of eternal silence, and though ready to hear and do whatever those in a position to order may command, she mu«t never again allow her voice to be heard. She is as large and strong as Mickey himself, and i* apparently used to lifting burdens, which would explain why Linda has brought her to this place. At a word from the Alsatian, whose stay in Paris is limited to 24 hours, unless she wishes to die, these two raise up the seemingly senseless form of Captain Tom. Linda leads the way, light in hand, her sombre garments causing her to look like some strange priestess. The lamp-light

falls upon her handsome face, and a close observer would notice the various emotions that play by turns there. Evidently she has deeper interests in this game than any one suspects. Even as they wend their way along there comes a crash that makes the solid walls quiver, a shell has struck the convent, its tower of grey stone has been hurled down a wreck, but the voices from the cloister instead of ceasing in deadly fear appear to grow louder. Linda Dubois smiles grimly. These shells cannot fall too often or work deadly destraction upon fair Paris too rapidly to suit her humour. She hates the city, hates all in it, but one, and he is now seemingly helpless and in her power. Under the orders of the imperious woman, Mickey and the nun deposit their burden on the stones. Then they raise a large flag in the corner of the cellar, which act reveals a flight of steep steps. In going down Mickey carries the burden alone, and is not surprised to have a whisper wafted in at his ear : ‘Say little, but notice everything. Above all, stand by to aid me.’ He presses the arm of Captain Tom to prove that he understand®, then with the help of the nun the American is carried along a corridor cut in the rocks, until Linda Anally gives the word, and he is laid down. Watching his chance, Captain Tom takes a glimpse above. What he sees is well calculated to make a less venturesome man shiver. The walls of the cavern are covered with thousands of skulls and bones from the arms and legs of human beings. An inscription is over all. He read- even with that one glance what many travellers have seen.—* Tombeau de la Revolution. 1

CHAPTER VII. THE CONSPIRACY OF THE CATACOMBS. They have brought him to the Catacombs of Paris, in whose great caverns it is calculated the bones of some three million human beings have accumulated. At periods like the Revolution deaths occurred with such alarming frequency, a thousand or two a day, that even the churchyards were full, and some wise statesman conceived the idea of emptying them and removing the burial grounds outside the city. So the bones of the hundreds of thousands were collected and carried on funeral cars amid religious ceremonies to the great caverns which had once been stone quarries, but were henceforth to become the Parisian catacombs. These underlie about a tenth of the city, and in some places houses have been known to sink into the caverns. At all times they are esteemed gloomy places, and have been the refuge of more than one desperate gang of thieves, whose ultimate destiny must be the galleys at Toulon. Captain Tom recognises the place. He has been in the Tombs of the Revolution before. It does not surprise him very much to learn that the secret cabal of foreign spies have their rendezvous here ; really, a more Atting place could hardly be selected. There is one main entrance to the catacombs, with some 80 odd steps, but a score or two minor entrances afford ingress. At time® these have, for various reasons, been closed up by the police authorities, and thus far during the siege the people have been kept out of the caverns. Should the Prussian shells continue to fall as they have been doing this night in the Latin Quartier the distracted populace will demand that the catacombs be opened, in order that they may seek refuge there from the storm of iron hail rattling about them. When they have deposited Captain Tom upon the cold rock they stand there listeningZ

Sounds from above are but faintly heard in this underground place—even the heavy discharges of cannon a few miles away se m to be but a vibration of the earth, very delicate.

They are out alone in this city of the dead. Another light flashes into view, persons advance towards them. Linda holds the lamp, and eagerly she makes signals. They are returned. The fair Alsatian breathes a sigh of relief, and then, as if seized by a singular impulse, she bends down and looks in the face of the man lying there. Captain Tom’s nerves are wrought upto a high pitch by the exciting events that have already occurred, and those impending, but he has proved himself a cool customer, and does not flinch under her close observation, even with the Jamp held near his eyes. Men advance, and the American hears the deep guttural Herman. It would be fatal to a person to speak it upon the boulevards or in the pensions and cafes chantants of Paris at this time, when everything German is hated so bitterly, because the guns of Von Moltke are knocking at the gates of the proud capital. They come up, and although Captain Tom knows the risk he takes he cannot resist partly opening his eyes and peeping at

them, these daring spies who have risked their lives in Paris in order to send word daily to their countrymen. He has expected to see (Germans, and the shock is thetefore all the more severe. Not one of them would be taken for a Teuton upon the streets. Thov are apparently Frenchmen, but the manner in which the Northern tongue is spoken proclaims their true nationality. Captain Tom sees much in that one look. The man upon whom his startled eyes fall first of all is a prominent officer connected with the defence of the city, one of Trochu’s right hand men, and upon whom suspicion ha" never once fallen. One of the others the American also recognises, while two are total strangers. He believes he would know them again, though. Strange greetings pass between them. The nun has vanished, perhaps retiring through the dark corridors to the convent, her mission done. Mickey McCray stands there with a blank look upon his face. It is astonishing how foolish the Irishman can appear when he desires. The men watch him suspiciously, but Linda sets all fears at rest by declaring that Mickey cannot speak or understand more than a word or two of the German language, so that his presence would not interfere with their consultation. With that they launch forth, plans are discussed, comments made upon the defences and weak points in the French lines, and confidences exchanged concerning the positive end that now seems so near at hand.

Little do they suspect that a pair of ears are drinking in every word eagerly. Captain Tom has allowed himself to be brought here for this very purpose. He is French in heart, though an American by birth, and in this bitter war between Gaul and Teuton all his sympathies are with the race of Lafayette, his grandfather’s personal friend.

What he hears may cause these four men to be shot some fine morning at the city gates, or under the French ports. The chassepots of the National Guaid have sent more than one spy to his long account since the siege of Faris began. Presently the ts'G ' personal. The officer in authority de nands to know how the American comes here, and what are hie

relations with the government. His tone intimates that he would also like to understand what concern Linda has in his welfare.

She tells much of the story—at least they know that Captain Tom is a secret agent of the French.

This seems to be enough. Captain Tom hears a peculiar click-click. It sets his teeth on edge, knowing that this means the drawing back of a revolver's hammer. * It is onlv a question of expediency/ says the confidant of Governor Trochu, for it is he who has drawn the weapon.

In a moment it will touch the ear of the American—a pressure of the finger and his doom is sealed. Still he moves not; his grit is simply astounding, since almost any man must have sprung into life at such a menacing peril. Captain Tom is ready to take the risk. He banks upon a human emotion, and that is love. Nor has he made a mistake.

Mickey McCray has drawn a long breath, and is just on the point of hurling himself upon the general in his impulsive, Irish way. when his quick eye notes something. A small, white hand has clutched the weapon of th© officer, and with the firmness of iron turned it aside.

• Whab would you do, madman?’ asks Linda, looking into the man’s face. He mutters an exclamation.

•Rid the world of a dangerous man—one who has given our people much trouble I am sure. Come, Linda, release my weapon. It is but the fate of a spy at any rate.’ • You forget, general, he is my prisoner, not yours. I choose to spare his life.’

‘ I believe you are in love with him.’ cries the other, with some show of passion, • You are at liberty to believe anything you like. This man saved my life. I shall not see him injured by you.' Her manner is superb. Captain Tom never came so near being in love with her as he does at this moment, when she keeps the eager revolver of the traitor general from ending him.

• Do you know what I’ve a great notion to do?’ rates the man, grinding his teeth. ‘ Let us hear, general.’ ‘To tear my hand away from your clasp and finish him where he lies.’ • You will not do it, general. I will tell you why. It is because you are a coward,

and you know that I would avenge such an act on the s|tot.’ He shivers unde* the look of this woman, for she has spoken words of truth. Although daring much in his capacity of a spy in the councils of the French leaders, he dares not arouse Linda Dubois to do her worst.

•Would you shoot me?’ he asks, reproachfully. • Try me and see.’ With that she casts his hand from her. and at the same time draws a small revolver from her bosom.

The man looks into her face, sees something there that tells him to beware, and puts away his own weapon. •As a favour to you, ma belle t I spare the American’s life, but if he lives let him beware how he crosses my path.’ Her lip curls in dtrision, tor Linda has a very poor opinion of this man, by whose side she has worked in the interests ot her king.

‘ Depend upon it, Captain Tom is able to take his part, as you will find to your cost if ever you run across him,’ she replies. 4 But why have you brought him here?' he continues, watching her suspiciously. ‘I have my reasons. Listen, and I will tell you as much as 1 choose. In the first place I wished you all to recognise my zeal in behalf of our cause, for, although I will not allow you to murder this brave man in cold blood before my eyes, it is, nevertheless, my intention that he shall no longer be of service to the enemy.’ ‘ By making him your husband, Linda, you might take him into camp/ suggests the general, with a sneer.

She ignores his presence, or at any rate pays no heed to his words. • I have brought hitn here for another reason. If our plans hold good, in two days more the German engineers will have succeeded in reaching the catacombs in their underground operations; then, while the darkness of night hangs over all, whole brigades will pass through to appear with the rising sun in the centre of Paris, whose doom will then be sealed. 4 For reasons of my own, I desire that this man, my prisoner, general, should be secreted in this tomb at that hour.’

4 You do not say what your reasons are ; perhaps I can guess them.’ 4 You are at liberty to do as you please,’

she replies, coldly. *As for myself, 1 have been warned to leave Parts inside ot twenty four hours ; when the gates shut tomorrow night at seven my fate is sealed if I am found.' • And they know you to be a spy ? This is singular toibearance, Ah, I see, you owe it to him.' ‘That is why I save his life. I have some sense of gra*itude if 1 am Linda Dubois.' 4 What favour do you wish to ask of me ?’ 4 You are quick to guess that I desire anything ! Still it is true. Can you spare a couple of your men ? Francois at least will no longer dare to show himself upon the streets.’ 4 I see you have heard of his narrow escape. He has become alarmed. The rope was very near him a few hours ago. Jacques also is a marked man. Both are at your service.’ 4 A thousand thanks. I wish to leave them with my man to watch over the American. They are faithful ?’ • As true as the magnet to the pole/ declares the general, while to himself he adds. ‘so far as my personal interests are concerned.’ ‘Then I accept your offer, general. Give them orders to obey me, while I speak to M ickey.’ The officer took his men aside ; by accident they are close to the form upon the rock, so that Captain Tom hears every word that is spoken, and it may be set down as certain that he listens with the deepest attention, since the conversation so closely concerns his interests. ‘ Listen, Francois, Jacques. I will leave you to guard this American. See to it that by morning he is a dead man/ • How shall it be done?’ asks the fellow called Francois, who hetes Captain Tom on his own account, since he bas recognised in him the man who turned the fury of the populace from Myra upon himself in the streets of Paris. He has hardly recovered as yet from that terrible peril, and will never forget his fright. •It will be easily accomplished. Pretend that ho is trying to escape, fall upon him, and give him the knife.’ ‘And if the Irish devil interferes—’ The general shrugs his shoulders :

• Parbbau'. there are two of you ; what mors do you want?* The men nod grimly. •One word more, general — the pay?’ • Twenty gold Napoleons to each if you succeed. Failure may mean your death, for 1 chance (o know something about this man. He is a hard figh'er when aroused,' giving the form of pour Captain Tom a touch with hie boot. • Consider it done,' says Francois, • and I only wish the time was at hand now.' • Patience, mun. Revenge is all the sweeter for being delayed. Here comes the fair Linda. All is arranged,' he said to her ; ‘ my men are transferred to your service. Order them as you will. As for myself, with An oine 1 will accompany you to your hiding place, and there look over the latent maps Then we can signal the news from the old quay. The police may tee the rocket- ascend, but when they rush to the scene the place will be deserted.* • That is satisfactory, general. I see you are determined we shall be friends fur the benefit of the flag under which we fight,’ taking out a minute German banner and kissing it. • We will forget everything eave that we belong to the Fatherland, and are sworn to the service of our king, Wilhelm. I have something to show you, sent by Bismarck himself. Come.’ She turns and gives Mickey one look. • Remember !’ Then she moves away. CHAPTER VIII. CAPTAIN TOM ON DECK. XX hen Linda is gone the tomb seems to have lapsed back to its original darkness, for her presence has brightened it. The heaps of skulls, the cryptogram formed of human bones upon the walls, whose meaning few can decipher —these things stand out with hideous distinctness under the blaze of the lamp which has been fastened to a bracket in the wail. Captain Tom is satisfied. He has been amply repaid for what he has endured, and although his eyes have seen little, his ears have been open. In one thing he is disappointed ; he has not yet been able to fathom the secret of Linda ' übois and Myra. He remembers the latter exclaiming, • 1 am blind I’ and yet her eyes have at another time dazzled him with their brilliancy—strange eyes, indeed, they must be to change their nature at the will of their owner. This in a personal mat ter ; it will do to ponder over at some future time, but just at present other things demand attention. His own situation is precarious, since his

guards have received instructions to make away with him as soon as possible ; but Captain Tom worries little on that account.

Cautiously he opens his eyes and surveys the scene. The two guards are whispering together near the pile of skulls, while Mickey w'atches them suspiciously. The American moves his foot a trifle and taps the Irishman’s toes. In an instant the latter bends over him.

• They mean to murder me. Take care of one when the time comes, and leave the other to me,’ whispers Tom. Already the guards have seen Mickey's move. ‘Get up there. We understand — you would gothrough his garments That shall be our pleasure after’—and a suggestive nod completes the sentence, spoken in French.

Mickev obeys orders without a word, but he is on his guard, and when these fiends of (he tomb attempt to carry out their plan of murder they will be apt to believe they have run up against an Irish buzz saw. The general’s orders were explicit. Ho desires that as little delay as possible may occur, and hence it is expected that in a short time Francois and his companion will get to work.

Inch by inch Captain Tom is pushing his arm down. The movement is so slow that it does not attract attention, but all the while it draws nearer his pocket where lies the faithful weapon which in more than one desperate encounter has never failed him.

Once he gets that in the firm grasp of his hand, and he dares defy double the number of foes that now confront him. All he asks is a fair show. A brave man needs no more to prove hie courage. By this time Francois and his colleague have determined to earn the forty Napoleons without any further delay. They ex change a glance that means volumes.

Jacques places himself between the Irish man and Captain Tom, but as soon as Mickey sees that the decisive moment i«* at hand he jumps at the burly spy with the fury of a stag hound. It i- a circus to watch Mickey fight. He uses every muscle in his body, and although he has an antagonist much larger than himself, hie agility amazes the enemy, who finds it hard to understand whether Mickey means to stand upon his head or climb on his back.

At any rate, Jacques is wholly taken up here, and cannot offer any assistance should his companion require it. On his part Francois has leaped towaid the pro-trate form of the American, ami as he thus advances he gives vent to the cry : ‘ He recovers ! he wou’.d escape ! Death to the American spy ’ Francois' alarm is ah moonshine, of course, for as yet Captain Tom has not moved at all, but it serves the purpose of (he man from Alsace, who desires to make it ap pear that he is about to le«p upon a <‘e operate enemy endeavouring to e.-cape, and not a helpless man lying there senseless and still.

There is enough French blood in him to give the desire for dramatic show. W hen he utters his cry of alarm he is not a dozen feet from he prostrate Amen cm. and advancing at such a pace that ti e latter will have no more than sufficient time to sit up ere his enemy is upon him. The man is in deadly earnest, for he has drawn a cruel looking knife shaped much like a Malay creese, and with this he doubtless intends to earn the Napoleons that are dancing before his eyes in such mad glee.

At this critical instant from out the gloom beyond the range of the lamp-light a figure flashes. It crosses the intervening space with the speed of a spirit of the air. Francois sees and ho recoils. • Myra !’ falls from his lips. •Coward I poltroon ! you are only brave enough to stab a helpless man. Stand back ’. you shall not lay a finger on him !' Captain Tom is sitting up now, but no one pays any heed to him. Francois glares at the girl, who, like a spirit of light, has intervened between himself and his intended prey.

Once he has professed to love this girl, but have caused him to change his mind, and he hates her mo-t cordially. We have already seen how, in 1 he blackness of t his fury, he attempted to set the mob on her, under the pretence that she was what he really turned out to be — a Gorman spy, and how a bomb from the Krupp gun at;-.Chatillon was the only thing from the fury of the enraged populace. Now he looks as though he could tear her to pieces. She stands between hi-* vengeance and Captain Tom, as if her small figure could defend the American. ‘ Out of the way, viper !’ hisses the man. He brushes past her. She clings to his arm with loud cries of alarm. • Captain Tom, awaken ! arouse yourself ! The saints preserve you, or all is lost! Awaken I* Her voice resounds through that weird place where the bones of the victims of the Revolution lie. Francois, so enraged that he knows not and cares not what he does, gives his arm a

desperate swing. Unable to maintain her hold, Myra is thrown to the rocky floor The brute has conquered the weak girl, but his triumph is »hort lived. One more step forward. Hushed with his recent exertion, and he comes face to face with—a man.

Captain Tom, as he >ees Myra swung around so roughly and cast to the flour, feels every muscle and nerve in his whole

athletic frame ewell with renewed animation, eager to avenge the injury. As though made of steel springs he bounds to his feet To the astounded Francois he seem* just eight feet in height. The coward 1-hakes as though he has the a*ue. It is one thing to slay Captain Tom in his sleep and quite another to meet him face to face with that black look upon his lace. He walks directly up to Francois, his eye pieicing in its intensity, burning into the other’s ve»y brain True, the German spy hoi Is a terrib.e weapon in his hand, but his arm must have foigutten its cunning—at any rate he does not make the slightest movement toward using the weapon upon his enemy. Captain Tom’s bearing awes his craven soul ; he acts like a man magnetised. His master deliberately plucks the knife from that murderous hand, and tosses it over among the grinning skulls, where it falls with a ghastly clatter. In so doing the American has one glimpse of Myra rising to her feet and pressing a cubweb of a kerchief to her cheek. It is only a scratch, to be sure, but her precious blood has been shed by this miscreant. The thought adds to Captain Tom’s fury. His hand seizes Francois by the throat with a grip that threatens to crush the bones. He shakes him as a terrier might a rat, and each time the terrified wretch's teeth str.ke together like Spanish castanets. Between the shakes the American athlete growls out words something like these : • Strike a lady, you miserable whelp ! Try to turn the Amazons of the faubourgs upon her, will you ? I would shake the last breath from your carcass only that I have a better fate in store for you. Do you hear, you coward ? I am going to hand you over to Trochu, who has longed to make an example of every known German spy in Paris. He will soon have you fit food for the fishes of the Seine That shall be your doom, you insul'er of women, you valiant jackal, bold enough to put a knife in tht back of a sleeping man. Why don’t you shriek a oud for mercy ? Are your lips palsied, or do you scorn to ask a favour of me ?’

He gives h’s victim one last shake, and then looks into the man’s face, to discover that it is growing black under his terrible grip. This causes Captain Tom to remember that all of his power has been thrown into this effort, since the indignation aroused by the cowardly act of Francois has nerved his arm. He tosses the wretched man aside as one might a cast-off glove, and theft turns around, to discover that Myra has vanished again, while the Irishman is dancing a hornpipe or a jig near the body of his fa len foe.

Mickey has almost killed the fellow, but when his antagonist humane y desists, seeing the wretch helpless at his feet, the min has an opportunity to recover his breath.

As he desires to make prisoners of them both. Captain Tom draws some stout cord from his pocket and fastens their arms. The men have become sullen. It is poeeib e that the treatment to which they were subjected had something to do with the matter. Ac any rate, they look ugly, as though realising what their doom will undoubtedly be.

The American pities them not; they knew the risks they were taking when they accepted the hazardous dutj of serving as spies upon the movements of the Parisians, and now that fate has come upon them, the beet they can do is to meet it with as much fortitude as they possess. Captain Tom does not care to remain longer in the dismal catacombs. It one of these prisoners can be influenced to confess everything in order to save his life, which i« very likely. Governor Trochu and his generals are ikely to hear some very interesting facts concerning the effort of the shrewd German engineers to bore under the hills a passage that shall connect their camo with the underground city of the dead.

Even as it is enough has been learned of the plan to defeat it, although it has already become patent to the American that the doom of fair Paris is near at hand, since the anaconda toils of the besieging armies have been so constructed that they are now able to throw shells into the city on one side of the Seine, and must speedily convert it into the most gigantic ruin of the century, unless the obstinate spirit of the half starved inhabitants is crushed, and a white flag sent out asking for terms from the Prussian field marshal or the king’sson, F rederick.

Mickey McCray, under orders from the o’her, speedily arranges the two prisoners. They are fastened together, for Francois has recovered now, with not one word to say. Then the Irishman drives them before him like a yoke of oxen.

It suits his humour to amuse himself from time to time at theexpenseof the wretches, and even Captain Tom has to smile at some of the witty fellow’s sallies. They leave the Tombeau de Revolution, and by a passage reach other similar

caverns where the bones of the victims are piled high, until one stands aghast at the multitude of relics, and comes to the con* elusion that Paris has more dead to the square acre than any other city extant, not even excepting Rome. In this way they gain the corner of the triangle ; from this point their course changes, and in making for the main entrance they keep going farther away from the hills.

* Halt !’ exclaims Captain Tom, and as the strange procession brings up he place* his ear close against the wall of rock. Strange sounds are borne to him—the pick pick pick of determined woikersin the bowels of the earth. Have some of the old convicts who were once upon a time wont to labour in these quarries returned to the scene of their life work ? He knows t hat these sounds proceed from the German engineers, who have already bored a way under the city walls. In two days, he remembers, the plot must culminate, but it may be sooner ; no time is to be lost.

They move on. At length the entrance is gained, which to them must be an exit’ Here they find a strong guard, and questions are asked, but Captain Tom answers them all. The officer begs them to proceed to headquarters, and escorted by several soldiers they leave the darkness of the catacombs behind, and in the early dawn of that January day once more walk the streets of beleaguered Paris. CHAPTER IX. A LITTLE AFFAIR UNDER THE WALLS OF PARIS. General Trochu, in command of the de* tence of Paris, can seldom be found at the house where be has made his headquarters during the earlier part of the siege, having of late betaken himself to the forts on Mont Valerian. Perhaps he has a deep reason for this. The story of repulse has become so obi by this time that doubtless even the patience of a Parisian mob must be worn threadbare. Once the people of the faubourgs cheered Trochu whenever he appeared, for in their eyes he was the hero who was to teach the impudent vandals how not to take Paris. Now, months of this business, with scanty food that grows less day by day, and a consciousness that partiality is shown to the rich in the distribution—these things put the people into an ugly state of mind. Paris is getting in fit condition for the horrors of the Commune. At any hour it may raise its hydra head, and the first object of its hatred will be the chief of the army. Doubtless Trochu knows this, and being a wise as well as a brave man, he feels safer at this desperate period among his Franc-tireurs in the forts than upon the boulevards. On this occasion, however, they are fortunate in finding the general at headquar ters, where he has come to secure certain papers. The great man looks wearied, but greets Captain Tom with warmth ; he has great respect for rhe American who proves his friendship for France at the peril of his life. An audience is granted, and the t*tory, so far as it relate- to matters in which General Trochu can have an interest, is soon told. A fierce light shows upon the governor’s face. It it is impossible to dislodge the determined enemy who has settled down around the gay capital, he can at least find some satisfaction in dealing him an occasional severe blow. A success once in a while will keep up the spirits of the people, and make them have confidence in him. For months the daily talk ba« been of an army from the provinces that would come up in the rear of the German forces, give them a dreadful blow, and raise the seige, but since the bombardment began this hope has dwindled away to a mere nothing. The General thanks Captain Tom in the extravagant style that is so natural to a Frenchman, and reveals enough of his hastily formed plans to give him an idea as to what he means to do. Then the two culprits are taken to prison, from which they will come out later and see a file of soldiers accompanying them to the Bois de Boulogne, or somewhere outside the city gates—a few brief orders, a double roll of musketiy, and Paris will be rid of two men who have long been secret foes.

Captain Tom seeks rest. The bombardment about ceases with the coming of morning, but in the evening the iron spheres will again begin to fall upon the half of the beleaguered city nearer Chatillon, to be kept up with great regularity all nightlong

At a certain hour Captain Tom awakes and refreshes himself with cold water, of which, thank Heaven, these greedv Germans have not yet been able to cut off the supply.

Then he proceeds to a restaurant near by, and partakes of a frugal meal. Few persons can afford to pal ronise such places now and many of the eating houses have closed, but along the Champs Elyseea there are a

number that still keep (open and make a brave show with a scanty larder and slender patronage. When he has satisfied the inner man as thoroughly as can be done in a city which has been consuming itself for the last few months. Captain Tom hails a fiacre. Few of these are to be seen on the streets ; the reason is very plain, since horses are in demand for food. Funerals, even of the

rich, are limited to one vehicle. Thus he picks up Mickey McCray at a certain place, and together they seek the mouth of the catacombs. All is quiet here, but ever and anon, a company of Franc-tireurs, or one, perhaps, belonging to the National Guard, passes down the step. Having the pass-word, our two friends find no difficulty in entering, and when they reach a certain point witness the

preparations that have been made to re pulse this shrewd game on the part of the Germans. Trochu is not personally present, but he han his representative in a smart young officer. Soldiers are massed in waiting and eager to pounce upon the luckless engineers who have done such wonderful work. The utmost silence is imposed. They can hear the throbbing blows that indicate the near approach of the enemy. At any time now it may be expected that the German engineers will break through the wall and enter the cavern. An order passes along. AU lights are put out, and the French soldiers wait like restless hounds held in the leash while the game is near. It is not for long. The indomitable power of perseverance that has carried the Germans thus far in their tunnelling operations brings about the final act in the drama. There is a sudden burst of light and a rattling sound, as of fragments of stone falling. Then low exclamations of delight in the deep voices of Germans are heard.

Not a man among the French soldiers

move* or make? a single sound. If they were formed of the solid rock they could not remain more silent.

Captain Tom watches the thin wall being battered down ; he sees a dozen <jermaoa in the glare of their lanterns ; but these men do not as yet suspect their danger. Just back of them can be noticed a company of Uhlans, brought into thia place for an emergency, as they are esteemed the most determined fighters among the host that surrounds Paris.

It is a strange spectacle, especially when one considers that this thing actually occurs at a joint inside the walls of the French metropolis.

Captain Tom is close be?ide the officer who has been ie tin charge He knows that the other is a dashing soldier, and has his orders, hence this silence does not surprise the American. Colonel Duprez awaits the moment when the German engineers have knocked away enough of the wall to widen the breach and a'low the passage of several men at the same time.

When this has been done he gives the signal—it is one single word : • Now !’

The Franc-tireurs, those tigers of the battle, who know not the meaning of the word fear, leap forward, a* if shot from a cannon.

They spring through the opening ; they are upon the astounded engineers before the stolid Germans can imagine what i« the matter ; some shots are tired, then the French soldiers rush down upon their inveterate foes, the Uhlans. Now comes the tug of war. A volley stretches a number of the Franc tireurs low, but over their bodies sweep nt hers; on they rush, coming in contact with the Uhlans. There is a distinct concussion, tierce yells, shots, and all the awful sounds of a terrible battle.

How strange it seems, such a desperate engagement under ground, -and in the catacombs at that, living men engaged in deadly work here in rhe tomb of millions. The Uhlans fight like brave men, but one by one they are cut down. Their leader is a large, handsome nan. Captain Tom believes he has seen him before somewhere, for surely his face is fami iar. When all seems hopeless this man is noticed to give some signal — perhaps a soldier is waiting back in the darkness to carry it on.

An instant later the Uhlan captain goe= down with half a dozen Franc tireurs at his throat. If the«e fierce fighters allow’ him to live it will only be becau-e they respect bravery even in a hated enemy. These free fighters take few prisoners in battle, for with them it is death.

• Forward shrieks the little colonel, who fancies he has a chance ahead to achieve immortal renown.

If his men can rush along this tunnel, perhaps they may create consternation at Chatillon, providing it extends so far. Who knows but what it may be the turning point in the whole siege, and looking back men will speak with pride of the valiant Jules Duprez, colonel of the Franctireurs, who by a bold stroke brought consternation into the ranks of the foe. and drove the first nail into the German cotfin.

He leads his men on through the rude tunnel which these unlucky German engineers have spent long weeks in boring. Lights are carried by many, others stumble along as best they can, but all are animated by the one mad desire to burst into the enemy's works and strike a blow that must create consternation, perhaps by spiking the great Krupp siege guns that nightly ■■end their iron hail into the devoted city. They make tine progress, and each soldiers heart burns with the desire to create havoc in the midst of the foe.

Without any warning the lights are all suddenly extinguished, and each man is thrown do*n by a strange concussion of ail—a great wave seems to rush through the tunnel, accompanied by a frightful roaring sound. It is as if the earth were groaning.

Can it be one of those terrible convulsions of nature —<n earthquake ? All is still, then the voice of the little colonel is heard in the loud command ; • Lights !’

Men pick themselves up, seme more or leas bruised by the fall ; matches are produced, and one after another the lanterns, such us remain whole, are once more made illumi noting agents.

The colonel has already guessed the truth, for his keen sense of smell detects burned powder in the tunnel. • Comrades, we have lost the game ; they have exploded a mine — our passage is blocked. Neverthele***. we will go on and ascertain the worst. Forward !’

It is just a* he supposed —an explosion has taken place, and the tunnel rendered a ruin- Soon their passage is blocked by masses of lock* ; tbe powder smoke almost stitles them There is nothing for it but to turn back. They are terrib y di-appoin’ed, but at any rate break even with their Geiman foes—indeed, the advantage would appear to be on their side, since they have not only frustrated the crafty design of the

enemy, but taken prisoner the engineers and those of the Uhlans left alive.

Captain Tom is with them, deairing to witness and participate in the a Hair. He was thrown down with the rest, but has received no injury.

When he come* out of the catacombs he has an idta in his head, which he desires to put into practice. His first in jutry is for the Uhlan captain—is he dead or alive ?

To his satisfaction, he learns that the brave man has not been killed. With other prisoners. he was at once dispatched to the prison known as La Roquette. Some ambulances had been in waiting, which bore the wounded to a hotel, now used as a hospital. As one was left over ihe captured Prussians, as far as possib'e, were stowed away in it and driven to prison.

Accompanied by the faithful Mickey McCray, he saunters along, noting here and there ihe damage already done by the bombardment. France has lost much of her gay humour of late ; upon the faces of her citizens can be seen an ominous expression. as though they are worried over the outcome. From a matter of pr.de it has now grown to be a serious business, and many haggard faces attest this fact.

Crowds there are upon the streets, for your true Parisian is nothing if nut in jui-i--tive, and wherever a shell has done damage scores of people gather to |»oint out each derail, secure mementoes, ta'k of the si gc and air their opinions.

Some keep up bravely. Lidies are even seen walking along clad in their seal skins, viewing the sights as calmly as though this weie a gala day instead of Paris in her death-throe- 1 .

Sad scenes gr et tbe eyes aleo, and Captain Tom inwardly groan-* when he notes how many small coffins aie being carried in the direction of the cemetery, whither his feet lead him. It i- hard on the children of Pari* ; deprived of milk and the nourishing food which their j-ysteina require, they are stricken down by hundreds.

Horses being so scarce, a- a general thing the little coffins are carried by hand.

Cap’ain Tom mounts the Boulevard de Charonne. and enters the cemetery. •:esir ing to get a view from the summit of the hill Charonne, oo whose slope the famous Pere la Chaise is laid out.

Reaching the mortuary chapel on the crown, he sweeps the scene with interes-r. Far away can be noticed the points where the Prussian batterie- are po.-ted ; occasionally a wreath of smoke is seen, after a certain time comes the distant hollow boom. Perhaps Issy or Valerien will rep'y. but no general engagement i« on. A bell is tolling mournfully. Below a number of men are digging a long trench and at the other end therein coffins are being piled three deep, to be covered by the cold earth. Snow lies around. It is the most di?mal period of the year at ordinary times in Paris. Fancy the darkness that has fallen uj>on the great city after months of siege, with her lines gradually contracting, and her food supply reaching the starvation point. The end is not far away, and even gallant Frenchmen must rea’ise that there can be but one result, and that fuither resistance against fate is folly. Captain Tom borrows a telescope and scans the distant hills, looks down upon Belleville, where the poor inhabitants are daily put to great tribulations in order to keep from freezing, and have cut down every tree on the boulevard ; then he calls Mickey, and the two walk down the hili io the exit that will bring them to the gloomy Prison of La Roquette. in front «»f which stands the terrible guillotine, soon to do its work at the hands of the Commune. It seems appropriate that the condemned in La Roquette should look from their cells upon the slope of he cemetery ; perhaps it has been more through design than accident that this building has been placed next the grave-yard. At any rate, it saves time—prison, guillotine, grave, in quick rotation. Captain Tom shrugs hi* shoulders as he passes the instrument of death and moan’s the prison steps. CHAPTER X. THE PRISONER UF LA RuqUETTE. The prison looms up before him, its cold walls grim and remoneles*. Over the door might well be written, * He who enters here leaves hope behind,’ for many have passed in never to emerge until the day of their execution arrives. It is now under mili'ary rule, as is nearly everthing in poor- Paris, even the bakeshops having a guard to see thar the daily rations of so many ounces of black bread arc doled out to the hungry people as their t ames are called.

Cap’ain Tom salutes the guard and de mandat osee the officer in charge. O. dinar ily the t-oldier might ignore »uch a request, but there i- 4 something about the American that impresses him. Besides, he mentions the name of General Trochu, the governor of the city.

He calle to a companion, who glances at Tom, and moves off. In a few minutes an officer makes hie appearance, with whom tbe American enters into conversation.

A little note which he carries on his person, signed by the general, gives him the entree he desires, and the officer begs to know bow he can serve the friend of Trochu. * There were some Uhlan prisoner* brought here a short time agn?’ says Tom. • We have received all sorts and conditions of men.’ • But these were captured in the catacombs under the walla of Paris. I my-elf had the good fortune to learn that German engineers had run a tunnel under the walls, meaning to turn the horde of vandals into the midst of the city; we surprised them, a number were slain, and some prisoners taken.’ ‘ Oh, yes, 1 remember now. Tbe thanks of all Paris are due you tor your noble work. We might have been surprised and the city taken had their plan been carried out.’ ‘ The Uhlans were brought here ?’ persists the Yankee soldier of fortune, paying little attention to the officer’s suave flattery. * That ie so, monsieur.’ ‘ The officer in charge was a large, tinelooking man—am I right ?’ ‘ His name ie Captain Johann Strauss. I had met him before.’ 'lndeed !’ Captain Tom believes he is in a way to pick up whit information he desires before seeking the presence of the Prussian, with whern he has determined to ha\e an interview.

• Captain Strauss has been in La Roquette before — only last evening he was exchanged. Behold ! with the coming of noon he is once more a prisoner!’ • Brave men must be scarce in their ranks it they have to u-e one soldier so frequently. It is my desire to have a private interview with this Uhlan giant. Can I be acc m mod a ted?’

The officer twirls the piece of paper in his hand, and shrugs his padded shoulders. Thin he twists each end uf his waxed moustache and bows. * With this document we can refuse monsieur nothing in tbe line of reason. Be pleased to fo low me.’ With that he leads the way along the corridor. Their boot-heels cause a peculiar clanking sound in that grim place, where a;l is so silent. Here and there sentries pace up and down, carrying each a cha-.-e--pot at the shoulder. Every soldier salutes the officer in turn.

At length they pause before a cumber some door.

• When monsieur is ready to come out, knock iwice on the door. You hear, guard ?’ The soldier salutes. The heavy door is thrown open. Captain Tom strides in, and from tbe click nt his back he knowr he is locked in the cell.

Coming from the glare of the sur. upon the snow without, his eyes are at first unable to distinguish anything save the fact that the cell is of good size and lighted by a single small window, across which run iron bars.

Gradually his eyes grow accustomed to the semi-gloom, and he discovers the tall form of the prisoner standing there .-urveving him.

The Pru-sian looks like a caged tiger. He has been overcome and made a prisoner when he endeavoured to fight to the death. His appearance is that of a desj>erate man, who cares little what becomes of him.

Captain Tom, while he stands there, makes up his mind that something besides threats will be necessary in order to make this man talk if he takes a notion to remain silent.

• I beg your pardon,’ he says, in excellent German, • but the sunlight on the snow has almost blinded me. You will excuse my rudeness.’

The other shows surprise, and when he speaks it is in a deep, musical voice.

•You speak German; you are not a Frenchman, then?’ is what he says. ‘I am a countryman of brave General Phil Sheridan, who rides with your leaders co see war as it is conducted in Europe.’ ‘ An American ?’

‘ Yes. Y’ou are Captain Johann Strauss ?’ ‘ Such is my name.

‘ Recently exchanged ?’ * Even that it* so.’ ‘You must like La Roquette, to come back so soon, captain.’

The Uhlan giant laughs good-naturedly now

* It is the fortune of war, that is all. At any rate it will only be for a short time.’

His meaning is significant. Paris is doomed, and when King William's army takes possession tbe doors of every dungeon that holds a Prussian or Bavarian prisoner must tiy open as if by magic. • You passed through the streets when captured before. I saw you, tbe peop'e ru-bed to stare like so many spectators at a show ; they marvelled at your size, for Frenchmen are not generally large. I heard many remarks made complimentary to your brave manner. ami. Captain Johann, I saw you turn red with anger, shake loose the hold upon your right arm, point your finger to a beautiful lady near by. and call out in German, denouncing her for proving a traitress to her country. The Uhlan giant is strangely affected ; he presses hts hand against h>«< head, and his look is one that even a brave man might dislike to see upon the countenance of an adversary. • That lady was Linda Dubois, a native of Alsace Lorraine, whose mother was a German. 1 am interested in her past. I have come here to exchange confidences with you, Johann Strauss. I can tell you something that will. 1 believe, give you much joy, but I desire, in return, to have the vei lifted from ceitain mysteries, if you are able to do it.'

His earnest manner holds the attention of rhe giant who bend.- down to look in his face, an express:on of puzzled wonder mark ing his own countenance.

‘ 'ou love Linda Duboie?’ says Tom, bcldly. The other nods his leonine head eagerly. ‘ I would die for her. 1 mad;y adore her. She has been the one bright star of my life. When I di&covered her in Paris, and realised that she had deserted the country of her mother, my heart turned to tiie. I cared not then how s; on death found m 3 out. You see my state, t>erhap-you have come here to mock me, buf. by heavens, you shall not go hence to tell chat traitress, who luves you, it may be, that Johann Straues writhes because a tickle woman twi-ts his heart as 1 twi?L your accursed neck !’

He advances a step ; bis demeanour is terrible, and C aptain Tom knows that in a perr>unal encounter he would have his hands full to keep this mad giant from fulfilling his threat. Still he does not snatch out his revolver : he has not come to that point when he dares not face a sing'e unarmed man, no matter whether he be athlete or giant.

* Hear me, C aptain Strauss ’ If, when I am done speaking, you still have the desire to twist my neck, I’ 1 give you an opportunity to do it. if you can. Meanwhiie let us be men, and reason together. I see no cause why we should be mortal enemies, nay, rather our circumstances should make us friend?.’ The giant calms down, though he still glowers upon C aptain Tom. ‘ One thing,’ he soars, ‘ are you her lover?’ Captain Tom dares not hint that Linda ha* become infatuated with him. It would throw the German in a paroxysm of rage, and utterly spoil any chance of asking him questions. He can truthfully reply in the negative. * I have known the Ma’m selie Linda for some time We have been good friends ; I respect her for her good qualities, nothing more. She is brave, and devoted to the cause she loves, as was her mother.’ ‘ Bah I why, then, came she to Paris, where our enemies are? Those women who love the Fatherland are over the Rhine,’ cries tbe prisoner. ‘ Listen, Herr Straus®. That is the secret. Will you promise to answer any question I may ask, provided that I remove your suspicions?’ ‘I promise—if it does not concern the army.’ ‘lt is a mere personal matter. You shall see. As to Linda Dubois, if you went to Bismarck and told him she was a traitress, he would laugh in your face. Hear me, madman ! That beauaful girl loves her country’s cause so well that for many weeks she has risked her life in Paris a? a secret agent of Von Moltka.’ * A spy?’ gasps Johann Strauss, eagerly. ‘That is the plain American of it. To my knowledge, she has sent many messages beyond the walls to the besiegers, and when it was no longer possible to write

Linda has made signal* with coloured tires On a dark night red. white, and blue balls would rhe from some lonely hili Ude, soldiers rush t iither, but they would rind nothing, for Linda or her agent had Mown. Thus »he has kept ’be enemy informed in one way or another a* to how we j»oor devils inside the walla were getting on. 1 tell you all this. Johann Strau**, because you iove her. ‘ And you, are you a German in heart f asked the Uhlan, quickly. >That cut* no figure in the game, mvnherr. 1 am. as 1 said, an American. 1 had influence with the governor, and he agreed to spare the life of thia beautiful woman if she would leave Pari* by the hour of seven to-night. I have given her this warning—if Linda Dubois is found inside the walls after the gates close there is no power under heaven that can save her from the common fate of a spy.’ The big Uhlan shiver* at thia- his heart has had new life given to it by the intelligence that the woman be loves has not been false to the country he fights for, and now tiiis strange American, who seems to know so much and yet so little, coolly tells him that she must die unless she flies from Paris within a few hour*.

•Can 1 do anything to save her*’ he asks, thinking he reads a peculiar look upon the face of hi* visitor. ‘ Perhaps—l will carry a note to her from you. begging her to fly, on condition that y »i answer my questions ’ • I have already promised.’

He seize* the paper and pencil Captain Tom handshim, and sitting down, hurriedly writes for several minutes. Then he hands a rmte to the American.

• Read it if you like, monsieur.’ •It is none of my business. 1 shall en deavour to place this in her hands at once. Now, my good friend, pay attention.’ • I am ready.’

He await* the questions of the American with the some cool inditlerence that would probably characterise him should he be holding a jioinc that was a coign of vantage in a n.ilitaiy way, holding it with twenty men, and a thousand devils of Franc tireurs rushing up on all sides of the hill to annihilate them. ‘ You have known Linda a long time ?* ‘Since childhood.’ * And loved her, too ?' ‘ Always. We roamed the woods together I fought for her a* a boy. lam ready to do it as a man. Heaven made us for each other, and the man who takes her from me—it I live, I will tear his heart out at her feet ! Linda is mine I’ ‘ I simply a?ked that to make sure that you knew her and her family well. ‘ I think I can say no one knows them better.' ‘Then you must be aware of the fact that there is a mystery connected with Linda Dubois ?’ The big Uhlan is silent. Captain Tom knows he has struck the right nail on the head, and with quick, strong blows he proceeds to drive it home, after the vigorous manner that is a part of his nature. ‘ Linda Dubois left her home before you went to the front—she wa* known to be in Berlin, to have apartments in a fine house on that famoue street Unterden Linden, a little more than a stone’s throw from the palace. There was much that was strange in her actions while there. She camo and went at all hours, messengers brought her letters; in the light of present revelations we can understand that she was in communi cation with Bismarck, preparing to act as hie spy in Paris, to feel the public pulse here and keep him posted. * But this is not all. Linda Dubois was at the same time engaged in another business, which more intimately concerns me. because it ia connected with one I love.’ ‘ Ah ! you, too, love?’ cries the Uhlan, a* if delighted to discover this fact. * Yes, and it is on this account I am here. I desire to know the secret of Linda’s power over the young girl Myra.’ Johann Strauss show* signs of uneasiness. ‘ls it Myra you love, monsieur ? lam sorry to hear it. You havo heard of the fatal upa* tree—so your love may prove fatal to that child.’

CHAPTER XL PLAYING WITH FIRE. Captain Tom hears these words with the utmost astonishment, and not a little con sternaiion creeps into his heart. Are they prophetic? Can this Uhlan giant raise the veil of the future and see what is about to happen ? It ia absurd. •Johann Strauss has the appearance of an ordinary man, and would never be taken for a seer. Perhaps ho means something else ; the American's face turns red, and then pale. • You do not intimate, Herr Straus*, that I would injure that young girl ? I have seen much of the world, and been concerned in many strange adventures, bur, a* Heaven is my witness, never yet have I ’ ‘Say no more, monsieur. 1 am not guilty of meaning such an evil thing. You

do not know—you cannot know—* • Then suppose you tell me,’ say* Tom, coolly. * You promised, and this has no bearing on the movements ot the army, 1 am sure.*

Captain Strauss seems puzzled. • I would like to, in order to save Myra, but 1 hardly know whether it would be proper. Still, ynu are a man of honour, I believe, and you will do what ia right. Ya*. 1 will speak.

‘Sensible man,’ declare* the other, stoutly. He prepare* to hear something si range, and yet what comes to him almost takes his breath away from i s character. * You can understand the feeling that has animated all Germany, in this war ; the people are in it heart and soul—even the women. Societies have been organised for all manner of purposes, for the national feeling runs high, but the strangest of all, perhap*, was the one which Linda Dubois organised while a’ the hou-e on Unter den Linden.

• 1 his secret band was composed of young women—unmarried women, anyway. They took upon themselves a binding vow never io marry any one but a German. ‘So earnest were they in this that a terrible punishment was to be visited upon the head of any one who wan luckless enough to wed a man who belonged not to the Fatherland.

‘ Now, you understand my meaning. If you win poor Myra’s heart you wreck her life, for her fate is pitiable, whether you marry her or not. I warn you in time, I hope, monsieur.”

Captain Tom almost gasps for breath : he has never dreamed of such a thing. What could have induced a young girl like Myia to enter into such a terrible league ? What wa* the consequence cf marrying a foreigner? Would death ensue ?

He had heard ot such leagues among the socialists of Germany and the nihilists of Russia, but never believed that even in the heat of war time* sensible women in Ger many would bind themselves by such a vow. ‘ Are you suie of what you say—that Myra is a member of this society ?’ he a-ks, looking tor a loophole. ‘ I am almost sure of it. Linda once showed me the list. She Keeps it concealed in that house in Berlin. I believe it contained Myra’s name. Myra has been true-hearted for Germany all the while ; her cousin, Meta, anti some of her friend's took sides with France. It was this fact that caused Linda to arrange this society. We Germans approve it, of all but the terrible penalty; but then we never believed that any true German fraulein would dream of taking a husband outside. Make your mind up that this is h terrible reality, ard if you love blind Myra, see her no more.’ A drowning man grasps at a straw, and •o Captain Tom sees something to seize hold of in the last words of the German. ‘You say Myra i« blind?’ he asks, his eyes glued upon the other’s face. * Cerf ainly, you knew that?’

The American is doubly mystified. He remembers what the girl cried out on the street when the mob threatened, and yet Captain Tom is ready to swear that he has looked into as bright a pair of eyes as ever a girl played havoc with among the hearts of men. He knows not what to say, he feels as if his breath were taken away. Can Johann Strauss help him? He doe 8 not fancy any man reading the actual pain in his heart, so he crushes the feeling, and trie* to penetrate no deep r into the

mystery. Later on he calls himself a fool for not having questioned the Uhlan more closely when he had the opportunity. He must give Myra up, but the thought causes him a pang. Who would dream that a man who had seen so much of the world as this soldier of fortune must finally fall in love with a littie Alsatian girl, so that his heart receives a severe wrench when fortune sna'ches her away from him. He pursues the subject a little further with respect to thi-* singular band or society, and learns several interesting things that make him wish he could be in Berlin just then to ease his mind, and read that fatal list.

Then he says good bye to Johann Strauss.

‘ \Ve may meet again ; who can tell the fortunes of war ? I shall deliver your note, and endeavour to influence Linda.’ These are hie last word*. He shakes hand* with the prisoner, and as his eye takes in the Uhlan giant’s magnificent form. Captain Tom mental’y figures on what chances he may have, if at some future time fate decrees that they two shall struggle for the mastery.

A double knock on the door brings the guard. Captaifi Tom leaves the cell in a more thoughtful mood than when he entered it ; and hi* heart feels sore over what he has heard.

Myra is lost to him then. He has seen many a beautiful flower in his day that only needed the stretching out of a hand to gather, but he refrained; now that he would

secure this little wild rose, it ia plucked from his grasp. He does not quite despair, for Captain Tom has more than once fought with fate, and beaten his adversary in the game. The future may develop some gleam of hope. Mickey McCray is found waiting in the corridor, and silently follow* the captain. Ho is an anomaly of an Irishman, for he knows when to keep hi* mouth shut. Try as he will, Tom cannot keep his thoughts off the subject that is up|>ermost in his mind

‘1 could swear that her eyes were the brightest I ever saw, and yet, when she looked up at me in the street—my God ! she was blind ! What can I think—are there two Myras? If so, am lin love with Myra who can see or the one who is blind ?’

Reflection only causes deeper perplexity, and at la«t, realising the hopele-s condition in which his loveailairs a»-e entangled, he makes a violent effort, and for the time being dismisses the subject. Other things demand bis attention, for Captain Tom has become mixed up in several litt e affaire of moment in his earnestness to serve the French Government.

Calling Mickey to him he confides an errand to his care, and presently the faithful Irishman is cantering down the Champs Ely sees.

Then the American calls to the owner of a fiacre near by ; the man asks a fabulous sum for the use of his vehicle, as horses are scarce in a city where the people are living upon horseflesh. Making a bargain. Captain Tom is soon flying along in the direction of the Latin Quartier.

He is cheered ?*everal times on the road thither, as exciiab e individual*, noting hi* speed, fancy that he must be a Government messenger carrying important dispatches. The inflammable populace is always looking fur the ‘ grand movement 1 that never comes.

Ruin meets the eye here and there ; really, those German gunners have got the range fairly well, and are doing much damage. A few weeks of this steady work will be apt to lav one half of Pari* in ruin, and it is certain that these stoiid Prussians will keep up this everlasting hammering, now that they have begun, until something gives way. Ah ! the convent at last. He seeks the entrance. The lay sister admits him. and again he awaits the coming of Linda in the same room where his strange adventure of the preceding night took place. Captain Tom manages to seat himself in a darkened corner ; the thick wall* of the building, with its numerous angle*, keep much light from entering through the peculiar window s. Presently there is that flutter of a dress again, and «ome one enters. It is the lovely Alsatian. Linda looks around her in a manner that betrays some nervousness, tor she cannot imagine who ht r visitor may be ; perhaps the secret agent sent by the government to make an arrest, for they may have repented their respite. Now she discover* the dark figure of a man ; he advances toward her. The Alsatian is thrilled to hear him speak, her limbs almost give way beneath her weight. ‘ Ma’in selle Linda, I greet you. She find* her voice, but it is only to gasp : ‘ Captain Tom !’ ( 7’o Continued.)