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THE OLD BAILEY; DR, CELEBRATED…
[Au. RIGHTS RSSKRVKD.] THE OLD BAILEY; DR, CELEBRATED TRIALS RE- TOLD. BY HARRY BLYTH, Author of "The Devil's Heir," "A Wily Woman, &c., Sea. CHAPTER L GBIQORT FKAMK'S MISSION. trot the London of to-day not Old London jitber, but the London that was seeing the last of the cattle pens in Smithfield, that bad commenced bat not opened its Embankment, and was taking active measures to bridge over the valley formed by the Holborn Hills, to the saving of hor»«flash iond the safety of life. It had not yet nerved Itaelf up to the serious consideration of removing; Temple Bar, which for some time later continued with sullen obstinacy to impede the traffic. The Metropolitan Railway was open, but it did not rztend in an easterly direction further thaa Farringdon-street, and between this terminus and Smithfieid existed a loathsome intricacy of toarfci, crooked streets and alleys, where the pestilence held sway, end crime found a forbid- ding lurking place. Tha devil's nest has now happily been cleared away, and our gigantic wilderness of thoroughfares is freed from the stain of tolerating that noisome collection of evil streets and fatal trapa, which then stretched from Oxford-street to St. Martin's-lane and Soho. At the time of which we write the gibbet was itill erected outside the Old Bailey when occa- lion required, to the huge satisfaction of the ribald drunken mob, which on all occasions iwarmed and pushed and cursod around the scaffold, as it would to-day were the hideous custom reverted t>. In spite of the great im- provements which we have indicated, and many others, it may well be questioned whether London; te less vicious now than it was then. New itreeta may come and old ones may go, but our jrimiaals we have always with us. The London )f some twenty odd years ago was, at least, free 'rom the latest product of high civilisation- "Jack the Ripper." Oue damp and sickly morning early in the year, sfregory Frame reached Charing Cross Station, which, by the way, had not then been open many Months. He had crossed from Calais by the he night boat, and he prosented a marked difference from the other passengers, who ap- peared to have suffered much during the journey. They all looked pale, dejected pinched, and cold. while he was bright and active, and as cheerful as a man with a great sorrow eating into his heart can be. His luggage, consisting of a couple of large leather trunks, was placed on a cab, and he drove to the Golden Cross Hotel, which is just, opposite to the station. Here be engaged a bed and sitting-room for himself, and after a light breakfast he plunged into the rain and misty atmos- phere of the Strand. He possessed a distinguished appearance, and there was about him that air so difficult to describe, which mental power com- bined with wealth almost always civss. Ho was tail and slight in build, without being thin. There was at once a keenness and a softness in the large blue eyes which gave such light to his deeply- tanned face. A silky brown monstuche and slightly pointed beard concealed his uiouth and obin the one was as tender as a woman's, and the other was alive with determination. Smoky old London," he murmured, as be walked along the greasy pavement and looked about him. Ym have not altered much since I last saw your grimy face. We were close friends once, and it feels something like coming back to home to see you once again. My God what a mockery it sounds for me to talk of bome." It was a bad day for any one who was in a dejected mood. The sun strove, but with ill success, to send his cheering rays through the wet aud clinging atmosphere. The Strand, so bustling in the afternoon, so radiant at night, is dull and shabby in the morning. The drowsy restaurants emit the stale odours of past suppers ,be neighbourhood of the public-houses reeks with the smell of beer and musty tobacco the ihops you thought ao brilliant appear to have gone .oto mourning for their departed customers the lotsnd of the traffic seems lo be deadened. The folks Gregory Frame met looked to be as wretched as himself. Some bad ob- viously not been to bed all night, and all wove unmistakable evidences of possessing a troublesome liver. Even the flower girls had not yet arrived to brighten things, up a bit. The Strand had its violets, its roses, and its maiden- hair ferns, as long back as twenty-five years ago, but the sellers were of a higher type than those we see now. The profit on selling flowers was greater in those days, and theve were compara- tively few in the business. Gregory held his bourse till he cam to Essex-fftreet, down which iie turned, baiting beforo a house which bore *int*ng other names on the sides of the door that it "Cmteg Woolfstein." This gentleman had offices on the third floor, and to these the traveller made his way. "Is Mr Woolfstein in?" he asked the long, 'e?n, hollow-faced clerk, who at his summons ;awe to the pigeon bole made into the frosted glass frame, which protected the front office from the stare of the inquisitive. The young gentle- man, who had all the fragrance of a well-aoloured clay pipe, treated Gregory to an expression which taid as plainly as word.s :—" What the deuce has that to do with you ?' He tapped his head three times with his knuckle?, as one who wanted admit- tance wight at a door, and then asked with abrupt illickne "Are you the 0ne who wrote from Paris?" Yes." Come in. Y oa'l1 find the Napoleoo of private -I,itmtivas iu that room." I Gregory entered the apartment the cadaverous elerk bad indicated. It was empty, and be was %bout to withdraw when the lid of a long and broad settee opened, and a dark little man with a hooked noxe and short glossy curia skipped out. Glad to see you, sir. Been up all niht, and I was just doing forty winks. Nice contrivance, oil? Couldn't very well have a bed here, you know-at least, not one that's seen. So I've got oue in thtte. Nicely ventilated, and as snug as you could wish for. It's funny what I bear in there sometimes. A lot of folks make a mistake in not telling me the whole truth when they engage me. Ofteu a couple of people will come bere with a job for me there they wait for me to come in while I'm in all the time. In tkere." pointing to the settee. Shall we tell him so and so?' says the one. Oh, no,' aaya the other, and so on. After a bit tbey get tirad of waiting and go. When they do meet me I can tell them as much about their affairs is they can themselves, and they say, What a wonderful man.' Ah, I see you do not like my methods—you we disappointed in me. Do you think I would talk to every one like this ? No you come with the right introduc- tion from my old Paris friend, Benjamin Swigart, and I talk freely to you." "Motis. S vigart told me I might trust impli- ) citly to your perfect honesty." Swigart was wrong, and he knew it. I am too good a detective to be honest. Your so-called honest men in my profession are always weak rogues. No, my friend, I pretend to no honesty, Jfor Swigart's sake I will serve you to the skin of my bones as long as your money lasts. Yau-are nothing to me. When your money is done my work ceases. But I will do my utmost to bring about anything you may desire long before your bag begins to feel any lightness." "Swigart was right," Gregory said, half to bimseif. You are honest." The little man bad by this tima seated himself on his table, with his feet on the elbows of his arm chair. The position was not elegant, but he appeared to find it comfortable and, indeed, cheering. He drew a shabby case from bis pocket, and offered Gregory his choice of six black and strong lookmg cigars. They both smoked. "Itiauoc,ompliment, my friend, to call me boaeat," said U us teg Woolfstein. But come andgiveme your atory. I will work for you. But you will help me and help yourself if you tell me the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me bob. J) The bronaed-faced man smiled sadly. I do not want to conceal anything, and I Slave no IW" tale to tell, A wonafta——" "Ab, yes," the detective broke in, "I knew that directly I saw you. There is always a woman-especi ally with men who have your face. They run after you-they run after you I do not pretend to be a beauty, but even I have had my romances." Who has not? You shall hear my story, and I will tell it to you as tersely as I am able. I married young, and naturally did not marry money one never does in the heydey of youth. I was as poor as my bride. I thought her the only woman on earth. Putting aside my inex. perience and the glamour she threw over my enraptured aenaea, she reaiiy was beautiful. It was, though, the beauty of earth and not of heaven. Things went very bad with us, but she was staunch and true, and my passion for her increased with our trials. Then came the gold fever. I caught it. It was idle to remain in England struggling against want when gold could be bad for the digging in Australia. My wife would not bear cf being left behind. I managed to gather together sufficient money to take us out. We started hopefully, and our dreams of future wealth swelled and glowed the further we sailed on. On the vessel we made the acquaintance of a young fellow named Rhoderick Bledston. He, too, was in search of fortune, and we quickly became such fast friends that we decided to share our luck together." Ah said Custeg dubiously, I think I can see through your story. Two men and one woman, the woman fair to look on-it always ends that way." Let's hope not always. I certainly acted foolishly, but I was totally unsuspecting. He seemed frankness and truth itself, and she-bow could I doubt the one I worshipped? 1 need not bother yon with the details of all our unsuccessful attempts to find gold. For months we failed miserably—horribly. We were in the final stage of despair, but my beloved Ina gave some bright- ness to our little but, and we were, a united little family; he behaving as a brother might do to both of Uit. Then he fell sick and I went to work alone. All hope had fled now, but I still toiled on in a dull mechanical way. One day I came unexpectedly on a vein rich in gold. From being an exhausted beggar I had almost limitless wealth. I was delirious with joy, and I think for a little I became insensible. Then with some specimens cf the joyous find I made for our little home with the speed of the wind. The hut was empty. I could not understand it. Rhoderick was so weak when I left him that it seemed dangerous to move him. Yet he was away, and hia small belongirigoi bad disappeared too And Ina, where was she ? Where was my baby irl All bad gone. I stood alone in that desolate place with no companion but my own sorrow. I did not see the truth all at once. It was too awful to think of. When it did strike my heart and fire my brain it drove me mad. I cursed the gold that had brought this misery on me; I cursed them I cursed myseif; I cursed God for having put such a devil into so fair a form. Then came a dull heavy meod, and I went to work alt before, but sullenly, and as if I bad been the last man left on the earth. Gold that I had toiled so hope- lessly for for years fell in literal showers upon me. I was a wealthy man, but I yearned with a desperate yearning for a return of my happy poverty. Finally I determined to go back to Europe and find my lost friends. I have some slight reason for believing that they are in I .London. I have no clue at all. But I will try London first." "You want to find them?" said M? Custeg, eying Gregory Frame keenly. Why?" "is it not natural that a father should wisb to find his lost dauhter 7" True. But what do you want with Rhoderick Bledston ?" "He was my partner. I must give him his share of the gold I found while he was still in the cabin." Yoo do, do you 1" said Mr Custeg, with a cynical laugh. c. And what do you want with the false wife I will take her to my arms again." Your forbearance and amiability are pro- digious, my friend. Let me tell you what you wish to do. You want to pay the friend who treated you so v'lely what you owe him—in other words you want to kill him. You will take your erring wife to your arms, but it will be to strangle her. Am I not right ?" I have told you what I intend doing," said I Gregory. with indifference. I Ha Well, you want me to find these I people I" "To help me to tind them," Gregory inter- posed. Put it which way you like. And you have no c) ue ?, Absolutely none. All I can suggest is that we practically go systematically through London and examine every section cf its society." That's what I call a tall order. Its very grandeur charms me. I am the man for you. I can take you into any place you wish or get my- self in." That's what I call tall talk," smiled Gregory. You exclude the Queen's palaces ?" Indeed, I do not. I can tell you it is easier to get into a palace than into a merchant/a house. What do you suppose your wife is doing ?" "I have no theory. If all has gone well with her she should be a magnificent woman by this time. She was yuung when she left me, aud she is not yet forty." A woman likely to attract attention V •• Undoubtedly." And therefore not likely to settle down to any humdrum life T" I fear not. But if she really loved a man be could mould her to his own ends-so long as her love lasted," he added bitterly. "Do you know how they managed to leave Melbourne? They bad no money, and were encumbered by a child." "That they did leave it I have proof. There is some circumstantial evidence to show that Bled. ston murdered a miner in the outskirts of the town and robbed him. If this be true this money would enable them to get back to the old country. Such crimes were common in those days, and not much trouble was taken to trace murderers. Nowadays Melbourne has very much improved in this respect, and in every way." What age is the child ?" My Blaucii ? Poor girl! She must be nearly eighteen now," Do you know if she is still with her mother I do not. The woman who forsakes her hus- band is usually not very particular about sticking to her child." "No, Not when tho) husband is good to her and she leaves him for a lover. You can tell me about the man afterwards. It will be easier to trace the woman I fancy. Age and disguises change a man more than a woman. Besides." I Mr Custeg muttered to himself, "if you find the man first you will inevitably kill him, and there will be an end of this very promising business." Can you commence at once?" asked Gregory. You must give me till the evening. There are some matters that must have my attention. Are you going along the-Strand ? Good. We will walk together and discuss affairs." As they left the house they did not observe two alouching-looking men hanging about the public- 11 house at the opposite corner. One was arrayed in all the faded glories of long past swelldom. The other was an unmistakable brute of the moat ferocious type. His eyes seemed to glitter with very greed of gore. "That's him," excitedly whispered the one who bad once perhaps dined at Varrey's. "Get him, and it will be the biggest thing we have ever done. He's worth milliom." "Does be carry any stuff about him I" deman- ded the other, following Gregory Frame with his I creepy, crime-striving eyes. That does not matter. If we get him, we get bis money. I'll arrange that. %%t6 Follow them-" Not me; that's your job. I'm going to have a pot of beer." The shabby man, after giving vent to a phrase not necessary to print, followed Mr Cuateg and Gregory in a peculiarly stealthy way,, to the end of the day's adventure. They had got well into the narrow part of that famous thoroughfare, tbe Strand, when Gregory Frame startled the detective by ottering a wild cry- "Heavena he ejaculated, pointing a feverish band at a handsome carriage which was just passing them. "There she is. My wife 1" Cuateg, now as agitated as his companion, clutched hie arm. [ "Yenare mad," be cried, bearnly, 11 it is iin possible. That is one of the highest ladies in the land. Contain yourself or you are a ruined man." "My wife I" again cried the frenzied Gregory, and he broke away from little Custeg and plunged into the ceaseless stream of the Strand traffic, determined to get up with the carriage. And with his wild haste he would have suc- ceeded had Dot the very fierceness of his desire blinded him, with the result that the shaft of a "Hansom" caught his shoulder and threw him violently towards the pavement, and another cab going in an opposite direction passed over both his legs. It is needless to say that a mob gathered at once. That part of the street ia always crowded at that period of the day. He was insensible from the fall, but, curiously enough, his legs did not appear to have suffered serious burt. The elasticity of bone, under cer- tain conditions, is almost limitless. They were about to convey him into a chemist's shop bard by for some superficial examination to be made, and then on to King's College Hospital, when a tall, commanding looking woman broke through the ring of inquisitive people surrounding him I and said in tones which admitted of no denial :— Bring him to my house. It is nearer than the chemist's. It is only in Surrey-street. I will show you the way." They followed her, carrying him. He waa placed in a comfortable room off the entrance- hail, and the lady sent her servant for a doctor. You have done a charitable action, Madame," said Mr Custeg, and any expense or trouble you may be put to, my friend will be only too pleased to make good." It is nothing," she said coldly. If the doctor says he is seriously injured, he must go to the hospital or somewhere. But if be is likely to recover in a few hours be is welcome here." "Allow me to give you my card, madame— Custeg Woolfstein, A close neighbour of yours." She took it from his hand and dropped it on the table. Ob, yes," she said, with a slight rising of her upper lip. "I have heard of you, and also of your great friend, Swigart. Both very clever," and she laughed in a way that nearly made Custeg dance. "Pnrhaps you will remain with your friend until Dr Doubleyoutee arrives. Should you require the servant you have only to touch that bell." That is the usual way of summoning the domestic," returned Custeg, acidly, but the dark woman had sailed, with some show of a grand air, out of the room. Custeg was evidently puzzled and irritated. "Funny I have not seen her before," he mut- tered. "What can she be? No good, I'll be bound. Knows Swigart, too. I'm sorry for Swigart. What possessed my friend, who is snor- ing so heavily cn that bed, to rush after that car- riage, I don't know. If ho persists in that sort of game we shall both get into trouble. It would ruin my business, anyway. Amen, Joseph per- haps his trouble has dri\eu him mad. Maybe it will not turn out such a good job as I expected. But, there, Swigart is no fool. 1 will go on for a little and see." The detective's rtfl'ictions were interrupted by the arrival of Dr Doubleyoucee, who, it chanced, was well acquainted with him. CHAPTER II. GOD WATCH OVER HIM, AXD GIVK HIM GRACE. NOT since 1885 had England known such severe frosts as 1867 opened with. Those in London were especially disastrous. Scarcely had the Christmas festivities passed, with all their joyous recollections on the one hand, and a tempered dyspepsia or a soothed liver on the other, in pleasant, though distant -view, than that terrible catastrophe on the waters of Regent's Park cast a gloom over the homes of the happiest, and added another sorrow to the wretched. I Then a few days later came that icey night when clerks living in the suburban parts of the great city skated to their offices, and those who could not ue" the irons" fell aud fell, till the hospitals were crammed and the undertakers held high revel. It was anything but a pleasant or even a hope- ful year. Gaunt want walked the streets, and with evil, hungry eye gfzed ferociously from every corner, east and west. The South wanted bread; thelSorth sent up a heartrending cry-" We are famished." And truly tb,y were. Often had the people, made after God's own imagine, to tear up the very boards tbey should stand on in their small rooms to kindle a poor fire to keep the blood from freezing in its attenuated vessels. Eighteen hundred and sixty-seven opsned badly, and gloomy indeed had been the record of sixty- six. It3 stab bad been a Black Friday," which, for & commercial moment, paralysed the Stock Exchange and the Banks of the city. Tuose glorious institutions soon recovered themselves. Nearly all the cruelty of the crims sent its bitter dart of crushed hope and oft times absolute despair into sweet hedge-braced country homes. The widow who found her little fortune gone, which she had so cherished to endow her daughter with the half-pay officer who, being a good fellow, was determined none of his should absolutely want when he threw off the world's uniform, and the trustful, clf-riyin;iu-iinple and guileless himself, believing in no guile in others-tbese were the ones who, had they been in the habit. of cursing, would have spoken in fiery strains of the collapse of Overend, Guerney, and Company. But these could only break their hearts, while the gentlemen who had lured them on to their speculations soothed themselves with Mdit and C,handon, a nl puliel roun,l ciie c,)ruer. Such is Life Still tha children of Darkness remain wiser in their generation than the angels of light. So far as this history goes, we shall see whether the saying be true. The simple villagers of Cramber-Greystone, a I somewhat remote hamlet in Sussex, with indica- tions of the Norman Conquest, and a siaudiutr- out lack of an educational one, went t,) their parish church with its grave pillars, its solemn altar, and its wondrously moulded roofing, All unknowing of the buzz nod excitement that had been going on in Throgmorton and Lombard- Streets. The atmosphere of their own downs was over them all, and they were as simple as the sheep they set such store on. Not that the sheep lacks cunning. All the old men had rheumatism, and all the old women nagging tongues, if not the other complaint. From an antiquarian point of view, Morman churches are worthy of study, and should win an architect's admiration, but when it cones to sitting in or.e of their freezing seats after a three miles' walk through the snow, I do not bless that French invasion which is said to have done so much for us poor uncivilised Britons. Perhaps, though, the Norman church was an improvement on the oak tree, and that an advance on the period when we devoured one another with some gusto. The eating of our brothers still goes on, though in a less objoction- able and less concrete form. And it was impossible to associate the Rev Theophilus Merton with the din and turmoil and feverish agony of the distant city. He inido a fine picture as he stood in that graven pulpit, the sun streaming through the deep windows to make his hair more silvery the snow outside to dance and glitter. He had a clean white, clear-cut face, with eloquent eyes a noble forehead, and delicate nervous ur-ntis. His method was gentle and appealing, but his high thoughts and his refined periods were lost on his droning congregation, who tolerated him with a sort of respectful pity tinged with a little wonder. "Black Friday bad indeed been black with bim. Like many of bis cloth be had been led by too promising prospectuses into hazardous invest- ments, and be found all his savings gone at one cruel sweep. That such a man should fail in his dealings with the sons of mammon was not strange that be should have allowed himself to have been contaminated by their touch was unexpected that he should speculate from pure orreed of gold seemed impossible. And indeed it was. He bad simply striven to make some modeat provision for his ward, Blanche Darrell, whom be loved next to his God. As fresh and as lovely as a bright spring burst- in into a glorious summer, Blanche, at eighteen years of age, was in that grey village as a rose among dock leaves—as an angel in a casual ward. There was a tendency to the grand type of beauty in those solid, rounded limbs of hers it is true, but at this time she had the suppleness and grace of the antelope. Her cheeks were bright and rosy her tips full and red, and she possessed that rare combination of black brows and f-yes, with almost golden hair. An enthusiastic sculptor would have yearned to give with his cunning hands a semblance of her slowing form to his cold, crude marble, but he would have found himself sighing at her feet ere his chisel had commenced its work. Not the least of her charms was her complete naturalness, and absent freedom from coquetry or affectation. And, being truthful, she was naturally fearless. How came she, Merton's ward, was not known th"re, tor the simple reason that no one bad ever enquired. He had brought her with him a little child when he first came to the place. There was no one in a position to question him as to his affaiis except, perbapa, the doctor, and all he knew or cared to know was that Blanche was the daughter of a dear, dead friend of Theophilus's. Curiosity Has active enough over the petty details of daily life in the village, but this matter did not concern it. Had the parson arrived with a ward of Blanche's present ago, the case would bave been quite different. Theophilus bad practically only two houses at which he visited in the social meaning of the term. The one waa the village doctor's, and the other a pretty little bome a little way out, belonging to aMrs Wentworthy, a widow with an only son, Jobn, uow in his 21st year. The widow lived on a small but respectable annuity left her by her husband, and tier cheery drawing- room waa as a haven of rest for these solitary man, for the leech was a bachelor too. It is not surptigingthat from the first little Blanche and not much bigger John became playmates, later friends, and finally lovers. Both the widow and the clergyman watched this natural development with mellowed acquiescence. On the particular morning with which we are concerned Theophilus lay back in his big arm- chair and appeared to be absorbed in the Church Times-a comparatively new paper then. Blanche and John Wentworthy stood in the great bay window which opened on to the snow-clad lawn. Her dark, laughing, tremulous eyes were dulled with tears, and her lips twitched with pain. A cloud was over his broad, handsome face, and they spoke in low, earnest tones. It seems like losing part of myself—half of my life, to be without you," she said. "Oh, Jack, what shall I do when you have one away" "It will not be for long," be replied, in a crrave, hopeful away. "If I work hard, I can get my degree in three years, and then we shall be always together." Three years sounds like an eternity. I can- not explain to you how I shall miss you. Why, I used to break my heart when I was a little girl and you went away to school, and now, ob, Jack, it will be all so dismal Oere." I feel the separation too, sweetheart," be said, gently, but the inevitable must be faced. In- deed, I should have gone up last October. Re- member, I shall not be away three years. I shall see you at the end of every session." Don't think me foolish, dear one; do not be angry with me, but I can't help feeling that you are going from me for ever- Blanche "I know how good and true you are, and all your nobleness of purpose, but that cruel, awful London has swallowed up so many brave, good men. I once read that every stone in its endless streets could tell a tale cf a woman's agony and of a man's fall." Do not give way to such idle terrors. I am not a baby, Blanche." No," she answered, vivaciously, "you would be much safer in that horrible place if you were." What horrible place are you talking about ? queried Theophilus, smoothing his papar out on his knee. Oli, London," laughed Jack. Blanche thinks all kinds of terrible things are going to happen to me. She fancies everyone is bad there, and all bent on taking a stranger in." There are plunty of worthy people there and plenty of unworthy ones, as is the case every- where. Except, perhaps, here my parishioners are too indolent to be actively vicious, and too dull to exhibit any striking virtues." In spite of your hebdomadal eloquence?" M'yes. One gets disheartened sometimes when one labours on and on, and there is no apparent harvest." In a livelier tone he added, Come, Blanche, you must not take Jack's departure so much to heart. Ho can't waste all his time in this dull hole. He has the battle of life to fight like every other young fellow. No doubt Master Jack will get as much enjoyment out of London life as most students do. My time at Cambridge was not a dull one, and I remember we did not encourage austere young gentlemen. If I had not confidence in Jack, I would never have countenanced your engagement to him." It is not tbat Blanche cried. Then she broke down, nod, sobbing, threw herself on the breast of the Rev Mr Merton, to the discomfiture of the Church Times. "Ob, Guardy, Guardy, it seems as though some one was dying in this bouse to-day." They soothed her as well as they were able. It was arranged that the final leave-taking should be there and not at the station. Blanche protested that she could not Titteb the train carry her Jack away. But she was already dressed all the same when the carnage, which had been sent for Mrs Wentworthy, arrived at the Rectory to convey them all to the wayside station. Jack felt the separation keenly, but not as the women did. It is well for the other sex that men can philosophise a little, and often in their greatest despair do their greatest work. Few men, he thought, had ever loved as he loved Blanche. Still, to distract his thoughts from her was the prospect of the excitement. of a life in London with possible college triumphs. His busy fancies had made his journey to London Bridge Station as nothing. His luggage was placed on the roof of a Hansom," and he was about to jump into it when his attention was attracted to a young and slendevly-built girl who looked to him more like an angel than aught human. She wsw leaning against a pillar, and was in a paroxysm of grief. He saw that she would fall, and he ran to save her. Three people at Camber-Greystono were on their kneea at this time, and they all uttered the one prayer- GOD WATCH OVEP. HIM, AND GIVE HIM GRACE." ( To be continued).
------_------CARDIFF GUARDIANS.
CARDIFF GUARDIANS. Education of Roman Catholic Children. At the weekly meeting of the Cardiff Board of Guardians, held ou Saturday, Dr Pame in the chair, the rnport of the schooll4 visiting committee 0:1 Roman Catholic children came up for discus- sion. The recommendation of the committee suggested— That in consequence of the number of children at Ely Schools baing in excess of the accommodation pro- vided, and in order to save any lar^e outlay on build. ins in additi n to that which is already contemplated, tins committee recommend the b^ard to accept the offer of t. Michael's Certified Home, Treforest, to take not more than,30 IJoman Catholic children. The Rev J. R. BCCKLET, in proposing the adoptiou of this recommendation, hoped the board would accept it in a generous spirit. The home was certified, and it would not only be under the inspection of the Poor-law inspector, but also open to the visits of the guardians. He felt very strongly that their confidence would not be misplaced in accepting the offer of the Tre- forest home. He hoped they would consider the matter from the broadest point of view, and divest themHeives entirely of religious prejudices. He would like to add the following words to the ra.1 \1 tioo :— The board reserving the right to withdraw all or any of such children when they thinK fit, and it being distinctly understood that no precedent is to be created by t hii resolution. With the permission ot the board, he would move the adoption of the committee's recommendation with the addition of these words. Alderman JACOBS seconded the resolution. Upon sanitary grounds alone he thought the motion ought to be adopted, because the Ely Schools at present were in a very insanitary con- dition and were much overcrowded. It had hesn proposed to alter the schools at a cost of £14,000, but others thought they might improve on the present system by establishing cottage homes in connection with the present schools. He, for one, would not be satisfied until the sanitary condition aud present state of things were improved upon. The Rev Father BUTLKR was of opinion the adoption of the rescjution would not be compro- mising the board in any way. He should be always able to report that the children were as well cared for and looked after as in the Ely schools. Although no hindrance had been put in the way of educating the Catholic children at the Ely schools in their own faith, still lie thought they would be better off in that respect at Tre- forest. The biue books stated that similar Roman Catholic institutions were amongst the finest in the country. It would bn a saving to the ratepayers of about 95,OW or £ 6,000. Mr D. T. ALKXANDKU thought in aeuding these children to Treiorest they would be saving at least £ 10,000. He found that the original estimate for enlarging the schools was B12,000 to provide for 122 children, and the estimate for altering the schools to ineet the requirements of the present children was about. £ 5,000. The interest on this money would he E250 por annum, aud the cost of mairitaining 19 children at the Eiy Schools at 5< 2d per head came to £255. making a total of £ 5C5. Supposing the children were sent to Treforest, they. would not require that money, and their maintenance would be only 2247 per annum. If this resolution was passed, there- fore, there would be an annual saving to the ratepayers of;C253. He supported the resolution. Mr F. J bfiAVAN also supported the motion. Alderman Coar said he felt conscientiously bound to propose a direct negative. If they bad not sufficient accommodation for the children at present, let them hire a few cottages and try the cottage home system. The CHAIRMAN The Local Government Board would not entertain that for a moment. Alderman COBT pointed out that in that case they must build cottage homes for the children. There was a vital principle involved in this matter that tbeycould not get over. There were Protestant institutions in existence that supported thousand.; of children, and they were maintained on the voluntary system. He, therefore, did not see why they should pass this resolution. Mr J. KICHAKDS seconded the amendment. The motion was then put, and carried by 29 votes to 8.
.--------------ESTABLISHING…
ESTABLISHING CONFIDENCE. IPZENHKlMra: Hef a cigar, cabby? DBISOOLL Oi will. Will yet boy cab! JrzKNHEiMKB: Dot depends. I bef a frent com in' in from St. Louie. OLf you tells him it vos der N' Yorick shdyle for der visitor to pay der bill, ve engaches you. He von't pelieve met
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- BLIND LOVE. .
BLIND LOVE. BY WILKIE COLLINS. [THE EIGHT or TRANSLATION IS RESBBVED.J CHAPTER LVI.-FANNY's NARRATIVE. Fanny returned to London. Partly, the slender. ness of her resources gave her no choice; partly, she bad learned all there was to learn, and would do no good by staying longer at PasRY. She arrived with thirty shillings left out of Mr Mountioy's timely gift. She sought a cheap lodging, and found a room, among people who seemed respectable, which she could have for four andsixpenoe wwook,with board at a shilling a day. This settled, she hastened to Mr Mountjoy's hotel brimful of her news for Mrs Yimpaay. Everyone knows the disappointment when the one person in tbey world whom you want at the moment to see and to talk with proves to be out. Then the news has got to be suppressed the con- clusions, the suspicions, the guesses have to be postponed; the active brain falls back upon itself. This disappoinment-almost as great as that at Berne-was experienced by Fanny Mere at the hotel. Mr Mountjoy was no longer there. The landlady of the hotel, who knew Fanny, came out heiaelf and told her what bad happened. He was better," she said, but "till weak. They sent him down to Sootland,;iu Mrs Vimpauy's care. He was to travel by quick or slow stages, just as he felt able. And I've got the address for you. Here it is. Oh and Mrs Vimpany left the message. Will you, she says, when you write, send the letter to her and not to him t She says you know why." Fanny returned to her lodging profoundly discouraged. She was filled with this terrible secret that she had discovered. The only man who could advise at this juncture was Mr Mount- joy, and he was gone. And she knew not what had become of her mistress. What could she do? The responsibility was more than she could bear. The conversation with the French nurse firmly established one thing in her mind. The man who was buried in the cemetery of Auteuil with the name of Lord Harry Norland on a headstone, the man who had lingered so long with pulmonary disease, was the man whose death she bad wit- nessed. It was Oxbye, tbe Dane. Of that there could be no doubt. Equally there was no doubt in her own mind that he had been poisoned by the doctor—by Mra Vimpany's husband-in the presence and, to all appearance, with the consent and full knowledge of Lord Harry himself. Then her mi-ttress was in the power of these two men- villains who had now added murder to their other crimes. At for herself, she was alone, almost friendless in a weak or two she would be penni- less. If she told her tale, what mischief might she not do? If she was silent, what mischief might not follow f She sat down to write to the only friend she had. But her trouble froze her brain. She had not been able to put the case plainly. Words failed her. She was not at any time fluent with her pen. She now found herself really unable to convey any intelligible account of what had happened. To state clearly all that she knew so that the conclu- sion should be obvious and patent to the reader would have been at all times difficult, and was now impossible. She could only confine herself to a simple vague statement. "I can only say that from all I have seen and heard I have reasons for believing that Lord Harry is not dead at all." She felt that this was a. feeble way of summing up, but she was not at the moment equal to more. When I write again, after I have heard from you, I will tell you more. To-day I cannot. I am too much weighed down. I am afraid of saying too much. Besides, I have no money, and must look for work. I am not anxious, however, about my own future, because my lady will not forsake me. I am sure of tbat. It is my anxiety about her and the dreadful Becrets I have learned which give me no rest." Several days passed before the answer came. And then it was an answer which gave her little help. I have no good news for you," she said. "Mr Mountjoy continues weak. Whatever your secret, I cannot ask you to communicate it to him in his present condition. He has been grieved and augry beyond all belief by Lady Harry's decision to rejoin her husband. It is hard to understand that a man should be so true a friend and so constant a lover. Yet he has brought him- self to declare that he has broken eff all friendly relations with her. He could no longer endure London. It was associated with thoughts and memories of her, .In spite of his weak condition, he insisted on coming down here to his Scotch villa. III as he was, he would brook no delay. We came down by very easy stages, stopping at Peterborough, York, Durham, Newcastle, and Berwick—at some places for one night, and others for more, In spite of all my precaution", when we arrived at the villa he was dangerously exhausted. I sent for the local doctor, who seems to know something. At all events, be is wise enough to understand that this is not a case for drugs. Complete rest and absence from all agitating thoughts must be aimed at. Above all, he is not to see the newspapers. That is fortunate, because, I suppose, Lord Harry's death has been announced in them, and the thought that his former mistress ia a widow might excite him very dangerously. You will now understand why I left that message at the hotel for you, and why I have not shown him your letter. I told him, it is true, that you bad returned without finding your mistress. Speak no more to me of Lady Harry,' he replied irritably. So I have said no more. As for money, I have a few pounds by me, which are at your service. You can repay me at some future time. I have thought of one thing—that new Con- tinental paper started by Lord Harry. Wherever she may be, Lady Harry is almost sure to see that. Put an advertisement in it addressed to her, stating that you have not heard of her address, but that you yoacaelf will receive any letter sent to some post-office which you can find. I think that such an advertisement will draw a reply from ber, unless she desires to remain in seclusion." Fanny thought the suggestion worth adopting. After careful consideration, she drew up an advertisement:— Fauny M. to Jj—— H- I have not been able to ascertain your address. Please write to me, at the Post Office, Hunter-street, London, W.C." She Daid for the insertion of this advertisement three times on alternate Saturdays. They told her that this would be a more likely way than to take three successive Saturdays. Then, encouraged by the feeling that something, however little, had been done, she resolved to sit down and to write out a narrative in which she would set down in order everything that had happened—exactly as it bad hnppened. Her intense hatred and suspicion of Dr Vimpany aided ber, strange to say, to keep to the strictest fidelity as regards the facts. For it was not her desire to make up chargea and accusations. She wanted to find out the exact truth, and so to net it down that anybody who read her statement would arrive at the same conclusion as she frbrself had done. In the case of an eye-witness there are thousands of thing's which cannot be produced in evidence which yet are most important 10 directing and confirming suspicions. Tiaeattitudo, the voice, the look of a speaker, the things which he conceals as well as the things which he reveals—all these are evidence. But those Fanny waa unable to set down. There- fore it behoved her to be strictly careful. First, she atateid how she became aware that there was some secret scheme under consideration between Lord Harry and the doctor. Next, abe set down the fact tbat they began to talk French to each other, thinking that abe could not under- stand them that they spoke of deceiving Lady Harry by some statement which bad already deceived the authorities that the doctor under- took to get the ladf out of the house; that they engaged herself as nnrse to a bick man; that she suspected from the beginning that their design was to profit in some way by the death of this sick man, who bore a alight resemblance to Lord Harry himself. And so 00, following the story as closely as she could remember, to the death of the Dane and her own subsequent conversation with the nurse. She was careful to put in the dates, day after day. Whem she had done all this-it took a good deal of time-e bought a manuscript book and copied it all out. This enabled her to remember two or three facts which had escaped her at the begimting. Then she made another copy-this time without names of people or place. The second copy she forwarded as a registered letter to Mra Vimpany, with a letter of which thia waa the Gonaltaign: Qomkinriag, ttwxttfe, that on Wednesday morning I left Lord Harry in perfect health considering that on the Thursday morning I saw the man who bad been ill so long actually die-how, I have told you in the packet enclosed; considering that the nurse was called in purposely to attend a patient who was stated to have long been ill—there can be no doubt what- ever that the body in the cemetery is that of the unfortunate Dane, Oxbye; and that, somewhere or other, Lord Harry is alive and well. What have they done it for? First of all, I suppose, to get money. If it were not for the purpose of getting money the doctor would have had nothing to do with the conspiracy, which was his own invention. That is very certain. Your idea was they would try to get money out of the insurance offices. I suppose that is their design. Bnt Lord Harry may have many other secret reasons of his own for wishing to be thought dead. They say his life has been full of wicked things, and he may well wish to be considered dead and gone. Lots of wicked men would like above all thing*, I should think, to be considered dead and buried. But the money matter is at the bottom of all, I am convinced. What are we to do?" What could they do ? These two women bad got hold of a terrible secret. Neither of them could move. It was too big a thing. One cannot expect a woman to bring her own husband- however wicked a husband be may be-to the awful shame and horror of the gallows if murder should be proved—or to a lifelong imprisonment if the conspiracy should be brought home to him. Therefore Mrs Vimpany could do nothing. As for Fanny, the mere thought of the pain she would inflict on her mistress were Lord Harry through her interference to be brought to justice and an 4afainous sentence kept her quiet. Meantime, the announcement of Lord Harry's death had been made. Those who knew the family history spoke cheerfully of the event. "Best thing he bad ever done. Very good thing for his people. One more bad lot out of the way. Dead, sir, and a very good thing too. Married.I believe. One of the men who have done everything. Pity they can't write a life of him." These were the comments made upon the decease of this young gentleman. Such is fame. Next day he was clean forgotten just as if he bad never existed. Such is life. CHAPTER LVII,—AT LOUVAIN. Hot many Eugliah tourists go out of thfdr way to visit Louvain, even though it has a do Villa surpassing even that of Brussels itself, and though one can get there in an hour from that city of youth and pleasure. And there are rfo English residents at all in the plitee-at least, none in evidence, though perhaps there may be some who have gone there for the same reasons which led Mr William Liuvilla and his wife to cho )se this spot—in order to be pnvate and secluded. There are many more people than we know of who desire, above all things, seclusion and retire- ment, and dread nothing so much as a chance meeting with an old friend. Mr William Linville took a small house, fur- nished, like the cottage at Passy, and, also like that little villa, standing in its own garden. Here, with a cook and a maid, Iris set up her modest menage. To ask whether she was happy would be absurd. At no time since her marriage had she been happy to live under the condition of per- petual concealment is not in itself likely to make a woman any the happier. Fortunately she had no time to experience the full bitterness ot the plan proposed by her husband. Consider. Ha'i their scheme actually been carried out quite successfully, this pair, still young, would have found themselves condemned to transportation for life. That was the first thing. Next, they could never make any friends among their own couutrymeu or countrywomen for fear of discovery. Iris could never again speak to an English lady. If they bad children the risk would appear ten times more terrible, the consequences ten times more awful. The children themselves would have to grow up without family and without friends. Tho husband, cut off from intercourse with other men, would be thrown back upon himself. Husband and wife, with this horrible load laid upon them, would inevit- ably grow to loathe and hate the sight of each other. The man would almost certainly take to drink; the woman-but we must not follow this line auy further. The situation lasted only so long as to give the wife a glimpse of what it might become in the future. They took their house, and sat down in it. They were very silent. Lord Harry, his great coup successfully carried so far, sat taciturn and glum. He stayed indoors all day, only venturing out after dark. For a man whose whole idea of life was motion, society, and action, this promised ill. The monotony was first broken by the arrival of Hugh's letter, which was sent in with other documents from Passy. Iris read it she read it again, trying to understand exactly what it meant. Then she tore it up" "If he only knew," she said, "he would not have taken the trouble even to write this letter. There is no answer, Hugh. There can be none—now. A-t by ti r advice? Henceforth, I must act by order. I am a conspirator." Two days afterwards came a letter from the doctor. He did not think it necessary to say anything about Fanuy's appearance or her journey to Berne. "Everything," he wrote, "has so far gone well. Tiie world kuows, through the papers, that Harry is dead. There will be now only the business of claiming the money. For this pur- pose, as hia widow is the sole heiress and execu- trix, it will be necessary for her to place the will and the pohcies of insurance in the hands of her I husband's lawyers, so that the will inty be proved and claims duly made. Forms will have to be signed. The medical certificate of death and the forms attesting tho burial are already in the lawyers' hands. The sooner the widow goes to London the batter. She should write to announce her arrival, and she should write from Paris as if she had been staying there after her husband's death. I have only to remind you, my dear Linville, that yon are indebted to me in the sum of £ 2,000. Of course, I shall be very pleased to receive a cheque fcr this sum in full as soon ns you have touched the amount due to you. I shall be in Paris, at the Horet Continental, where you may address me. Naturally, there is no desire for concealment, and if the insurance companies desire any information from me I am always ready and willing to afford it." Lord Harry gave this letter to his wife. She read it, and laid it open in her lap. "Must it be, Harry ? Oh must it be ?" There is no other way possible, dear. But really it is nothing. You were not at Passy when your husband died. You had been in Loudon— you were in Brussels anywhere when you arrived it was all ov,,r you have seen bis headstone. Dr Vimpany had him in his care; you knew he was ill, but you thought it was a trifling matter which time would cure; you go to the lawyers and present the will. They have the policies, and will do everything else you will not even have to sign anything. The only thing that you must do is to get a complete rig-out of widow's weeds. Mind- there will not be the slightest doubt or question raised. Considering everything, yon will be more than justified in seeing no one and going nowhere." Hugh's letter breaking in upon her fool's paradise had awakened the poor woman to her better self she bad gone A far with the fraud as to acquiesce in it; but she recoiled with horror and shame when this active part was forced upon her. "Oh, Harry !she burst into tears. "I can- not-I cannot. You ask me to be a liar and a thief—oh I heavens !—a vile thief!" It is too late, Iris We are all rile thieves. It is too late to begin crying now." "Harry"—she threw herself upon her knees— "spare me Let some other woman go, and call herself your widow. Then I will go away and bide myself." Don't talk nonsense. Iris," he replied roughly. "I tell you it is far too late. You should have thought of this before. It is now all arranged." I cannot go," she said. "You must go; otherwise, all out trouble may prove useless," "Then I will not go she declared, springing to her feet. I will not degrade myself any further. I will not go Harry rose too. He faced her for a moment. His eyes dropped. Even he remembered, at that moment; how great must be the fall of a womau who would conseut to play such a part! "You shall not go," he said, "unless you like. You can leave me to the- consequences of my own acts—to my own degradation. Go back to E ng- land. In one thing only spare me. Do not tell what you know. As for me, I will forge a letter from you "—- "Forgea letter 1 "It is the only way left open, giving the law- yers authority to act, and enclosing the will. What will happen next? By whose hands the money is to reach me I know not yet. But you can leave me, Iris. Better that you should leave me-I shall only drag you lower." "Why must you forge the letter? Why not come with me somewhere—the world is larva to some place where you are not known, and there let us begin a new life? We have not much money, but I can sell my watchus and chains and rinors, and we shall have enough. 0 Harry I for once be guided-listen to me We shall find some bumble manner of liviner, and we may .be happy yet. There is ni harm dene if you have only pretended to be dead; nobojy has been injured or defrauded Iris, you talk wildly Do you imagine, for one moment, that the doctoriwill release me from my bargain r" What bargain ?" Why—of course he was to be paid for the part he has taken in the business. Without him it could never have been done at all." "You are to pay him some of the money," she said, conscious that such, agreements belonged to works of fiction and to police courts. Certainly I have to pay him a good large slice out of the money." It is fifteen thousand pounds, is it not ? How much is to be paid to the—to the doctor ?" We agreed that he was to have the half," said -Lord Harry, laughing lightly. But as x thought that seven thousand five hundred pounds was a sum of money which would probably turn his head and bring him to starvation in a year or two, I told him that tha whole amount was four thousand pounds. Therefore he is to have two thousand pounds tor his share. And quite enough too." Treachery on treachery!" said his wife. "Fraud on fraud I Would to GoD," she added with a sigh, "that you had never met this man I I daresay it would have been better for me, on the whole," he replied. "But theu, my dear, a man like myself is always meeting people whom it would have been better not to have met. Like will to like, I suppose. Given the active villain and the passive con- senter, and they are sure to meet. Not that I throw stones at the worthy doctor. Not at all." We cannot, Harry," said his wife. We cannot, my dear. Bien entendu Well, Iris, there ia no more to be said. You know the situation completely. You can back out of it if you please, and leave me. Then I shall have to begin all over again a new conspiracy far more dangerous than the last. Well, I shall not drag you down with me. That is my resolution. If it come,, to public degradation but it shall not. Iris, I promise you one thing." For once he looked as if he meant it. "Death before dishonour. Death without your name beiug mixed up at all, save with pity for being the wife of such a man." Again he conquered her. "Harry," she said, "I will go." CHAPTER L VIlI. Or COURSE THET WILL PAT." Three days afterwards a hansom cab drove to the offices of the very respectable firm of solicitors who managed the affairs of the Norland family. They had oce or two other families as well, and, in spite of agricultural depression, they made a very good thiug indeed out of a very comfortable business. The cab contained a lady in deep widow's weeds. Lady Harry Norland expected to be received with coldness and suspicion. Her husband, she knew, had not led the life expected in these days of a younger son. Nor had his record been such as to endear him to his elder brother. Then, as may be imagined, there were other tremors, caused by a guilty knowledge of certain facts which might by some accident "come out." Everybody has tremors for whom scmething may come out. Also, Iris had had no experience of solicitors, and was afraid of them. Instead of being received, however, by a gentle- man as solemn as the Court of Chancery and 1\8 terrible as the Court of Assize, she found an elderly gentlemau, of quiet, paternal manners, who held both her hands, and looked as if he was weeping over her bereavement. By long practice this worthy person could always, at a moment's notice, assume the appearance of one who was weeping with his clipnt. "My dear lady!" he murmured. "My dear lady This is a terrible time for you." She started. She feared that something had come out. In the moment of bereavement, too, to think of business." 1 have brought you, she replied curtly, my husband's—my late hubaud'will." Thank you, With your permission—though it may detain your ladYdlllp-l will read it. Humph I it is short and to the point. This will certainly give us little trouble. I fear, however, that, besides the insurances, your ladyship will not receive much." Nothing. My husband was always a poor man, as you know. At the time of his death he left a small Hijin of money only. I am, as a mattor of fact, greatly inconvenienced." Your ladyship shall be inconvenienced no longer. You muse draw upon us. As regards Lord Harry's death, we are informed by Dr. Vimpany, who seems to have been his friend as well RS his medical adviser ——" Dr Vimpany had been living with him for some time." That he had a somewhat protracted illness 2" I was away from my husband. I was staying here in London—on business—for some time before his death. I wa not even aware that he was in any (ian-er. When I hurried back to Passy I was too late. My husband was-was already buried," It was most unfortunate. Aud the fact that his lordship was not on speaking terms with the members of his own family-pray understand that I am not expressing any opinion on the case —but this fact seems to render his end more un- happy." He had Dr Viirntny," said Iris, in a tone which suggested to the lawyer jealousy or dislike of the doctor. Well," he said, it remains to prove the will and to make our claims against the insurance office. I have the policy here. His lordship was insured in the Royal Unicorn Life Insurance Company for the sum of £ 15,000. We must not expect to have this large claim satisfied quite immediately. Perhaps the office will take three months to settle. But, as I said before, youc lady- ship can draw upon us." "You are certain that the company will pay?" "Assmedly. Why not? They must pay. Oh I thought that psrhaps so large a sum "— Aly dear madam "—the man who adminis- tered so much real and personal property smiled fifteen thousand pounds is not what we call a very large sum. Why, if an insurance company refused to pay a lawful claim it would cut its own throat -absolutely. Its very existence de- pends upon its meeting all just and lawful claims. The death being proved, it remains for the com- pany to pay the insurance into the hands of the person entitled to receive it. That is, in this case, to me, acting for you." "Yes—I see-but I thought that, perhaps, my husband having died abroad there might be difficulty"- "There might if he had died in Oentral Africa. But he died in a suburb of Paris, under French law, which, in such matters, is even more careful and exacting than our own. We have the official papers and the doctor's certifi- cate. We have, besides, a photograph of the un- fortunate gentleman lying on his death-bed— thiq was well thought ot it is an admirable like- ness—the sun cannot lie-we have also a photo- graph of the newly erected tombstone. D.mbt! Dear me, madam, they could no more raise a doubt as to your husband's death than if he were buried in the family vault. If anything should remove any ground for doubt, it is the tact that the only person who bensfits by his death is yourself. If, on the other liaud, he had beeu in the hands of persons who had reasons to wish for his death, there might have been suspicions of foul play, which would have been matter for the police-but. not for an insurance company," Oh I am glad to learn, at least, that there will be no trouble. I have no knowledge of busi- ness, and I thought that" No—no—your ladyship neeed have no such ideas. In fact, I have already anticipated your arrival, and have sent to the manager of the company. He certainly went so far as to express a doubt as to the cause of death. Consumption in any form was not supposed to be in your hus- band's family. But Lord Hary-auem I-tried his constitution—tried his constitution, as I put it." He had put it a little differently. What he said was to the following effect—" Lord Harry Norland, sir, was a devil. There was nothing he did not do. I only wonder that he has lived so long. Had I been told that he died of every- thing all togst-her, I should not have been sur- prised. Ordinary rapid consumption was too aimple for such a man." Iris gave the lawyer her London address, obeyed him by drawing a hundred pounds, half of which she sent to Mr William Linville, at Louvain, and went home to wait. She must now stay in London until the claim was discharged. She waited six weeks. At the end of that time she learned from her solicitors that the company had settled, and that they, the lawyers, had paid to her • baukers tha sum of £ 15,000, being tha whole of the insurance. Acting, then, on her husband's instructions, she sought another bank, and opened an account for one William Linville, gentleman, residing abroad. She gave herself us a refereuce, left the usual signature of William Linville, and paid to his account a cheque for £ 8,000". She saw the manager of her own bank, explained that this large cheque was for an investment, and asked him to let her have £2,000 in bank notes. This sum, she added, was for a special purpose. The manager imagined that she was about to perform some act of charity, perhaps an expiatory work on behalf of her late husband. lp She then wrote to Dr Vimpany, who was in Paris, making an appointment with him. Her work of fraud aud falsehood was complete. "There has been no trouble St all," she wrote to her husband; and there will not be any. The insurance company has already settled tbe claim. I have paid £ S,0C0 to the account of William Linvidle, My own banker—who knows my father—believes that the money is an invest- ment. My dear Harry, I believe that, unless the doctor begins to worry us—which he will do as soon as his money is all gone—a clear course lies before us. Let us, as I have already begged you to do, go straight away to some part of America, where you are certain not to be known. You can dye your hair and grow a beard to make sure. Let us go away from every place and person that may remind us of the past. Perhaps, ia time, wa may recover something of the old paace and—can it ever be?—the old self-respect." There was going to be trouble, however, and that of a kind little expected, impossible to be guarded against. And it would be trouble caused by her own act and deed. (To be continued.)
[No title]
BEST HE COULD AFFORD. OLD GENTLEMAN Little boy, I am grieved to see you smoking a cigarette. WILLI KOBW: What are yergivin'ua? Yer don't s'poas a young gent wid my allowance can Bport a meerschaum ] I
CARDIFF LIBERAL CLUB.
CARDIFF LIBERAL CLUB. Celebration of the Canton Victory-' A house dinner" took place on Saturday evening at the Cardiff Liberal Club, in celebra- tion of the recent municipal victory which the Liberal party sained in the Cauton and Grange- town Ward. There was a large gathering of mem- bers, under the chairmanship of Aid. Lewis. After dinner, the toast of "The Queen haviug been given by the (1IIAIRMAN, he called upon Alderman D. JONES, J.P., to submit "The Export and Import Trade of Cardiff." Iu so doing, the ex-Mayor referred to the fact that the imports were growing year by year. Mr E. R. MOXBY, who responded for the ex- port trade, mentioued that when first he became connected with business in Cardiff the whole of the coal exports annually were not more than what was now sent out by one or two firms alone. Mr T, W. DAVID, who responded for the im- port trade, gave some interesting statistics show- ing that while the exports bad; in thirty years, iucreased 600 per cent., the imports had increased 800 per cent. (Applause..) Mr S. EVANS, iu proposing Cardiff County Council," referred to the efforts which Sir E. Heed had made to secure for Cardiff the position of an independent county, a position from which considerable financial benefit resulted. Councillor SHAOKELL, in reply, justified the recent action of the Liberal majority in the dis- charge of their disagreeable duty 011 November 9th. To him personally that duty was very disagreeable, but it was a party necessity, and in party matters they were bound to sacrifice individual sentiment. Alderman LEWIS then proposed the toast of "Our Member," describing Sir E. J. Reed as representing the biggest constituency in the country. Sir E. J. REED said he highly esteemed the honour of being tbe representative of the moat prosperous, powerful, and cos- mopolitan constituency which was represented by a single member aud he took to himself the credit of being always ready aud watchful to be of use to his constituents. (Hear, hear.) There were those who thought it would ba well if the representative of Cardiff identified himself more intimately with Welsh questions and Welsh movements; buthe was not aware of any difference having at any time arisen between the other Welsh members and himself. He had no reason to behove that they could compiaiu of any want of cordial co-operation on his part, and that, be thought, was sufficient justification for him in that respect. He did lll. foiget that Cardiff had iuterests to be looked after in which interests the large number of the members for Wales had no sort ot concern whatever, (Hear, bear.) Car- diff was not merely a Welsh constituency, it was a cosmopolitan town and be should consider him- self wautingin the performance of bis duty if ho did not give first consideration to what was pressed upon him by the town. That was why he had thrown himself into the effort to have Cardiff made a county. Recent municipal contests had turned upon an attempt to "cap- ture" the trades unionists of Cardiff for a certain party. Such an attempt might have success for a moment; but the man must be totally ignorant of political history who did not know that it was the Liberal party which had been, which was now, aud which always would be the true friend ot labour. In the very nature of things, unless the Tory party were a party of absolute impostors, they must be opposed to the úf the trades unionists it was their function to be so. In the columns of tho Western Mail this fact was exemplified, tor there appeared recently, simultaneous with a claim to be representative of trades unionists, a most ex- treme and violent condemnation of trade union- ism from the pen of the London correspondent, who is said to be part proprietor of the paper. (Hear, hear, and laughter.) He himself sup- ported trades unionism aa the Ineana whereby alone the working clas8es could secure full ami fair consideration ot their rights the means by which the down-trodden, poor creatures—women and girls, as well as men—who worked for so little could improve their position. He could not put himself into a fluster because of the flagrant at- tempt to influence the political and municipal situation by pretensions from a certain quarter. Mr SYMONDS, the newly-olocted member for Canton, responded, and declared bis conviction that if the party had had a better candidate—(no, no)—they would have won by a much greater miij'ority. Mr J. JKNJSINS, president of the Trades Coun- cil, proposed the Cardiff Liberal Association," aud in so doing referred to the gradual widening of the basis of the association, until it reached its present organisation as the "Liberal Thousand." Ho did not see why that number should not be doubled, for every Liberal worthy of the name should take a share in the work of the association. The trades' unionists recognised their indebted- ness to the Liberal party; but there were times wheu, in their desire to attain an object, tbey endeavoured to gam that object, no matter what cbannel it came tbrough. The Liberal Associa- tion would prosper if the working men had full share in its operation, for the trades'unionists were a great force, and fully recognised tbat tbey had duties to perform. (Hear, hear.) Mr R. N. HALL, secretary of tbe association, in acknowledging the favourable reception given to the toast, said they had had conclusive evidence that Liberalism in Cardiff was not yet dead. (Hear, hear, and cbeers.) It waa said to be sick unto death," but the king of whom that was said lived fifteen years afterwards. (Laughter.) Cardiff Liberalism had risen PlieelJix-ltke from its former losses and, as to the wards that bad recently been lost., those contests were fought, not on party lines, but on side issues. (Hear, hear.) They had carried the parliamentary seat over and over agaiu they had changed the Constitution of the town council from a minority to a majority of LIberals; and the association was now showing every Bign of energy, especially in its programme. (Hear, bear,) The democratic wve was going resistlessly throughout the country. ,The London strike had put politics 15 or 20 yeus ahead. The party of progress had now left its swaddling- clothes, and was going in for tbe programme in a downright democratic 8pirit. The CHAIRMAN, iu calltug upon MrG. R. Noott to propose the next toast,described it as a very nli- portant one, for they ail I'ecognzc)d the great services rendered by the South Wales Daily News aad Echo, for the Liberal press of the town had sustained the part.y, and it was their duty to sus- tain their Liberal journals. (Hear, hear.) Mr G. R. NOOTT then proposed "The South Wales Daily News and Echo." These journals, he said, dill alJ they COllld in the proplOtion of Liberal principles and those present were bound to recognise the enthusiastic and able manner in which they came to the aid of the party in the Canton election. It had quite invigorated the Working Liberals of the town. Mr JOHN DUNCAN responded, and stated that it had beeu with the greatest pleasure that the Liberal cause was advocated during Canton elec- tion, and this was necessary on account of tbe critical character of the election, for undoubtedly a defeat would have been disastrous. Swansea, Newport, Carmarthen, and other places felt that they had had such a dose of Canton as would last them for the remainder of their lives. (Laughter,) The health of "The Chairman concluded the toast list, and tbe proceedings then ended.
'■ THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY…
■ THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF OYMMROOORION. The annual meeting of the Honourable Society of Cymmrodorion was held on Thursday evening at the Freemasons' Tavern, under the presidency of Professor John Rhys, of Jesus College, Oxford. The report of the council tor the year 1888-89 was read by the secretary, Mr E. Vincent, Evaus. It detailed the work for the past year, and called attention to the fact that a meeting of the Cymmrodorion Section of the Wrexham Eisteddvod had resulted in the formation of a National Musical Association of Waiop, and that in consequence of a discussion at the National Eisteddvod of Wales, 1889, held at Brecon, it was decided to establish a section for the publi- cation of Welsh historical records and MSS. Under the society's rules several vacancies occurred, which were tilled up by the appointment of Mr Henry Owen, B.C.L., Mr R. A. Roberts, of the Record Office; Mr Edward Owen, of the India Office; and Mr Ellis Griffith, barrister-at-Iaw. The annual dinner was subsequently held under the presidency of Mr Lewta Morris, M.A., author of the Epic of Hades." The members present included General Owen Jones, Professor Rhys, Mr Vaughau Davies, Mr G. W. Taylor, Mr W. T. Jones (Melbourne), Dr isambard Owen, Mr Henry Owen, B.C.L., Mr Richard Roberts, L.C.C., Colonel Ridgway, Mr T. Mar- chant Williams, Mr Howel W. Lloyd, M A., Mr Griffith Jones, Mr E. Tudor Howell, Mr Howel Thomas, Mr J, W. Sziumper, and otherc. The loyal toasts were proposed by the Chairman, who also proposed the toast of the evening, Success and Prosperity to the Honourable Soctety of Cymmrodorion," in an admirable and telling speech, wherein he dwelt on the excellent work performed by the society during the past sesison, and pointed particularly to the service rendered by Mr Henry Owen to the society by the publication of his re- markable monograph on Gerald the Welsh- man."—Dr Isatnbard Owen responded to the toast on bebaif of the society,—" Literature, Science, and Art," which is a standing toast at these meetings, was proposed by Professor John Rhys in an admirably racy and instructivespeech, —Mr Henry Owen responded on behalf of literature, Mr Szlumper for science, and Mr R. A. Roberts ter art.—Mr Richard Roberts, of the London County Council, proposed the toast of "Ein Gwlad, Ein Hiaith, Em Cened)," to which Mr G. W. Taylor and Mr Elba Griffith re- sponde J.—Mr Vaughan Davies proposed The Health of the chairman,"Mr Ivor Bowen the toast of The ladies," MrE. Bowen Rowlands respond- inK; and Mr T. Howell Williams proposed the toast of "The Chairman and Officers of the Society," to which the secretary respouded.—A variety of Welsh songs were sung during the evening, under the conductorship of Mr H. Edwards, the vocal- ists being Miss Mary Olvan, Mr Maldwyn Hum- phreys, and Mr Lucas Williams.
_----------__-LORD BUTE AND…
LORD BUTE AND SCOTTISH NATIONALITY, The Marqnia of Bute, presiding at the anniver- sary festival of the Scottish Corporation in London on Saturday evening, said St Andrew's Day waa celebrated in Scotland with more fervour than St George's Day in England, be- cause the people of Scotland felt they had a nationality whioh was eclipsed in many ways by that of another and a stronger people. Thia con- sciousness led to such a gathering aa thia—the pathos of an appeal from a country which need of the loyalty of its children.
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--NATIONAL UNION OF TEACHERS.
NATIONAL UNION OF TEACHERS. Lord Dunraven on Eduoation. A meatin^ of th" Glamorg&iishira aotl thenshire District Union of Teachers wa» t on Saturday at Brlcigeud, when there was » gathering. A meeting of delegates wa8. ^9* the Board School in the morning for |3U purposes, which was followed by a Kener^}- god- ing at half-past 1. In the afternoon a Pa i r tb« ference took place in the Town HaH unae presidency ot the Right Hon. the Earl of raven, K.P., who was accompanied pJ Countess of Dunraven and Lady Enid Q111D¡ The Earl of DUNRAVEN spoke important and exalted work øíø teachers had to perform in equipping aod gr cO" j men and women for the battle of life. ■" Jl demned the system of payment by result*1- appeared to bim that iu thia respect some c' was desirable and necessary if education progress as it had done in the past few J' That education would advance he had no a and public opinion had undergone a votj ficial change on the subject. There were well meaning people in existence, however, to would aek what good would education be jj, miner or a man who followed the plough* little knowledge was a dangerous thing, might be altered by making it better 8fl parting more; and this was the more nacea» for lie believed Contentment to be ccmP* j with education. (Hear.) The more a educated, the happier would he be, an useful to society. All ought to receive ?Ctbelt education all would help them to better ful»| calling and to rise in their walk? obJI In the present day there prevailed an IICt6" desire for money making; and as tbey« democratic they were likely to become P1 cratic. The frantic desire for wealth a° » ot desire for cheapness of production on the P the public were matters which had to be àCClJ for. What became of good workmanship I a walk of life ? of good work for the fHlke of and for the pleasure tbat lay in it 7 But »° man's work was not measured by its skill» jjtll what it would fetch at the shrine of the t century god—money. Well, to couuterao tiJIIØJ spirit of money-making of modern e it to rehabilitate labour, and to re8<i0!itK!»" to a proper position, he felt that e tion might play a great part. (Cheers.) o Mr ROBERTS, of Brynhyfryd, Swansea, ø tho following resolution :— That the existing system of distributing tb0 mentary grant for education, falsely called "par by resuits," has been detrimental to the true In I education, causes the waste of much educa rli" f-Tce, and calls for the immediate attention of ment, with a view to its thorough revision or abolition. Mr HELLER seconded it. He said it *aVj|d feeling of the teachers, and, as far as cVio'1 find, of the country also, that the Department should be told that they were ing on wrong lines in insisting on the 9^ ^i by results. By this system the jø school inspectors were placed, so to IIP8Ø positions or direct antagonism. The teacher t, to make as much as he could out of the eCi6f, and, as far as possible, outwit the ,({ (Laughter.) It was right that the ahould have security that the work waa 0* done in the schools, but that they could reatbel obtain. It was a curious fact that in no 0 country had the system of grants been applied- The resolution was carried nem con. rt Mr POWEL, professor of Celtic at the UlllVe College, Uar:1 ilf, moved the next resolution: That this meeting observes with satisfaction jj- recammendations of the Koyal Commission 011 JjU tion in reference to the special difficulties of '• gjd schools, and urges upon the Education VepartmenGjfø IIpon Parliament the importance of ,ing speed/ e to these recommendations. iotl He said that the teachers in bilingual had to contend with a difficulty in working a"f a, code which was net adopted for Wales b0 gg» England. The prevailing system in Wales relic of Norman times wheu Norman-French forced upon the people, and Anglo-Saxon P jg scribed. The existence of Welsh Sunday ,ød played an important part in moral teacblûg preservation of language. (Applause.) tj*a Mr JOHN (Llwynypia), member of the ex0cU.^ of the National Union of Teachers, in a0C°a2eeH the motion, remarked that a great point had j gained in which the Royal Commission tlØ& already recommended great changes, and the last code, which was unfortunately witbdr* to contained many and important Welsh schools, and they were indebted to SIr Hart-Dyke for this generous treatment. The resolution was carried unanimously- djdJ Professor ROBERTS (University College, Otø of moved a resolution expressing the satisfaction the meeting at the passing of tha IuterW0" 0 # Education Bill for Wales, which would Pr<? t[)8 means of linking the elementary schools *'1 university colleges and the proposed uuiv0Tagt, for Wales. The carrying out ot these he said, would be a means of establishing » plete and uniform system. Mr A. J. WILLIAMS, M.P., seconded the lution. He said that. as he had alreadJL IslI pressed hia views on the subject of the Intermediate Education Act, be would det b8 them only a short time. The advantages t0' 0i derived from it would not become the propert»jy, the well-to-do class, but of the masses genera\ 0o (Applause.) It would be a duty incumber g the Joint Education Committee in detiri°«V on the various centres of schools to giv0 ef; facility by fixing on convenient places. beC»> the schools, in order to be of the ft value, must be mainly formed of scholars. He thought that the sya jif" of payment by results would soon be posed of for ever, ana in support of view he quoted the official report of Mr 0p Arnold on the method of teaching on tinent. Mr Arnold had reported to the G0* 0fi ment that the methods of teachingtba"* were SjLjj$ gradual, natural, and rational that; l>rs. ujt reason why thechildren in schools abroad were to stand loug hours was because they were subj^^ to a more natural and less mechanical fcr*' ^0 than in this kingdom and nothing was of the system of payment by results. Mr W' concluded his remarks by pointing out tbatbesØ advances made in this country were bringing very near to free education. (Applause.) ø.ø This resolution was then put by the cbaif and carried with applau.,e..ød A resolution in favour of the improvement tedø extension of technical education was also adop
TEMPERANCE WORK AT ICAROIFF.
TEMPERANCE WORK AT CAROIFF. < tb* The programme at the weekly meeting Uaidiff Temperance Society, at the Stuart" .fg on Saturday evening, was an unusually att^* pfi* one, and greatly delighted the large audi0 r The Rev J. Lockhardt, of Mount Tab ot,* J, sided, and he waa supported by the I*6 ^J Bailey, of Bristol, and Messrs J. FargussoB ^g W. T. Raper.—Mr Raper having opane| proceedings with prayer, the Chairman upl)Jj,^r$> for the absence of their secretury, ^6 Beavan, who, be feit sure they would to hear, was confined to hia house throuf?^ 1$6 position.—Mr John Fergusaon, in announcing annual concert of their now celebrated prize c eelt which is to be held on Wednesday in uext at Wood-street Chapel, said that although trj" night was the occasion of festivity to his |i« men, as it waa the eve of St. Andrew's felt that it would have been inconsistent w* profession if he bad absented himself frotØriØg. usual post to attend any auch They were engaged in a noble crusade a £ al7rt(?f« mighty foe, wbo should be given no Following a really splendid recitation, del' ^,0 with much dramatic force by Misa Rev. J. Bailey gave an interesting 1\ ost interspersed with solos, which be sang in ac|joif» effective manner. During the evening the (gd under tbe baton of Air J. F. Proud, ren^j^ a number of choruses in almost stylo. Daughter of Error," a solo and cl was so nicely sung as to elicit an enC(>r audience not being satisfied until it haosoø, repeated. The soliat was Miss Mabel J 0 who possesses a rich and pure-toned voice,ant* mises to become one of the best amateur vo, tut. in the district. The musical items in nex'l day's meeting will, it ia anticipated, be of a order cf merit.
-------_----_.------A TAX…
A TAX ON REVOLVERS. —— Most of us, says the Lancct, will cordially 1" with Mr Justice Wills that some legislatlfe ZgO sure is oalled for in order to control tl10r1?0 t6" common habit of carrying revolvers. W ¡)lo1 may be said in favour of this practice as ernP in unsettled communities, it is certain tr'6* in our own and many other civilised COUOotet" its palpable disadvantages cannot balanced by any sufficient argument "f personal becessity. In our u-<uai conditi regular and busy life under the agis of laffBJ and firmly administered the risk of person* toØr aault is reduced to a minimum. Fortunately* auch danger when it doea happen to be flo:"eJ1 tered still retains for the moat part a a(0 safe if clumsy alliance with muscular enerffJ b( and simple, which bad best be met, if "^h0'"0 met, with a like manly simplicity iu #0 of methods. Among ourselves, therefore, ot peat that self-defence hardly ever 116 justifies the use of the revolver. It 18 I' r ttlP able fact that in the great majority of in which this weapon has of late found 0 lIt of tion it has figured aa an iustruUlEJ røo'" offence. It has not been used on the P pee' of depredators, nor, indeed, has it much employed by such in tbeir b jn- on the person or on property, altUOl1tiO¡r, stances are unfortunately by no means but it has often been too near at 1!1\ It b passion or malice sought active expression^ come to be in our national experience n°s0j,i of already protected lives, but a mere cal9cOmnl05 luxury of evildoers. To control its t0^aty, use by a legal check is therefore a clear ^d1*' one which, m our opinion, would be charged by the imposition of a heavy ta,c.
A PROTRACTED fASr,
A PROTRACTED fASr, Ii thtO Succi, who about three years agJ "enn I'bstrdl1 t a protracted fast in Paris, baa just, bee ing from food for a period of Abirt/«ry Rouen, where he has met with a *e jjrun8 thetic reception. He is proceeding where be is to go through a similar e Jcriped beginning on December 15. Sucoi ia ^egpite h being in excellent health and spirits self-enforced privations.
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