Denbighshire Free Press

For Love of a Maid. I By EMMA M. MORTIMER, Author of 'The Second Lady Evesham," Cords of Sin," Robert Wynstan's Ward,' Phantom Cold," &c., Ac. [COP Y R I GHT.] « CHAPTER XX —CONTINUED. -11 you take a seat. Dr. Vivian:" john Douglas jerked forward the chair, and by way of example, seated himself on one of :he boxes, which he dragged into the semi- circle of warmth that came from the logs. "Thank you, I prefer to see my patient w ithout delay." He glanced interrogatively round, and again Douglas laughed. "Oh, I'm the patient—you've no need to disbelieve me, only it's my mind that's diseased. Generally, you men only attend he body, but to go off the beaten track for once won't do you any harm. Besides "—he sprang up, and coming closer to the young man, peered into his face-" what I have to tell you ought to be of special interest to you. I do not understand," said Vivian. He had been lured here under false pretences, and, now the fraud was exposed, it was not £ soothing. Why should your story have more interest for me than for another person P" Well, it's just come round to me that you're going to marry my girl." Had the stolles heneath his feet risen and spoken to him. Edward Vivian could have received no greater shock. "1 am engaged to Miss Douglas," he said I stiffly, and tor the fraction of a second some hint of finer feeling crept across John Douglas's st ill handsome face. Well, she's my daughter, though her mother always kept her away from me, and, to be honest with you, I think Margaret was right in what she did. I was an ornament to her when she first married me, but the life I led soon knocked the gilding off; then "—he made an expressive gesture— well, she told me it would be better if one roof weren't required to cover both of Its. I've never been troubled with conscience till lie], -it was hearing that you were going (0 marry Violet that set me thinking." "It seems to me there is a Haw in your story," said Vivian coolly. The man who was found shot in my park represented him- self as being the father of my ward, and on two occasions she met him, unknown to me, for the purpose of giving him money." John Douglas rapped out an oatli. Hitherto lie had had never a thought that his partner and double had been drawing capital from a branch of the business in which he himself had no co-operation. He—he dared to palm himself off on my girl as her father!" he shouted with choking fury; and, scoundrel (hough he was, his fury carried conviction to his hearer. I'd die in a gutter sooner than I'd ask my child for a farthing, and, there's another thing, sir, I'd not like her to know me for what I am. Will you promise me you'll never tell her:" There is no danger," was the succinct re- ply, and Douglas nodded. I'm her father, and I've the same feeling for her as any other father for his child, but I wouldn't disgrace her by letting her see me as I am now." "Violet has felt keenly this-" "I know, sir," broke in Douglas, bringing his hands swiftly upward as if to ward aside a threatened blow. "Butmoreturnsonthis than you think. You've made it pretty clear that Jack's been acting a part unknown to me, and if he'd che;.t me in one thing he'd do it in another, eh;" ¡ N ivian was hardly conscious of the question till the llIan "hook him roughly by the arm. "I should say honesty was not your part- • ner's strong point," he answered, and a 1 change came over John Douglas, though the other had little thought from whence it ura mr. -~Croo<i heavens," muttered Douglas hoarse- l ly, as he dashed some glistening drops of sweat from his brow, and "till this minute I I never suspected that he wasn't square with me." J Then tersely and quietly he told Vivian the Story of the banknotes, and how he had ex- changed the genuine for those which were (Spurious. "It was a scoundrelly trick, but this was my only chance. I wanted the girl more than I'd ever wanted anything before, and this money would have set kill a tidy little home for both of us, then—;|fter Jack went out that night I found the money was gone, too." You perhaps don't remember that it was I who found the body of your confederate, and had he sten this money it would have been found upon him." 1 Edward Vivian did not wholly believe the man's story, for if it were strengthened by his own discovery of the spurious notes, yet on the other hand it was weakened by the fact that no corresponding discovery of the » genuine ones had been made when the man was shot. in the park. "No, I know nothing was found on him, still, it would take a lot to convince me now that he didn't pinch them. How he got rid of them is best known to himself, wherever he is It's hit me hard, this. Dr. Vivian, because I'd always acted strictly on the square with Jack, and would have gambled my life that he was doing the same thing with me. He had my fullest confidence, as you will know when I tell you that I sent him to put the screw on Mrs. Vivian, but that touch with the bracelet nearly did for t I, us Edward Vivian started, and Douglas, on whom no change of expression was lost, went on:— "He knew all the ins and outs of that affair as well, and I've never been sure whether lie wasn't in the park meeting Ursula that night he was shot." You know Mrs. Marshall:" queried the younger man, and Douglas laughed with keen enjoyment. "Yes. I've known her since she was little more than a kid. She was decoy for a g-aming-holFe in ice where your father met her. She'd gone out to get hold of any- thing she could, but especially an English- man. I followed her (I was madly in love with her and always had been), and as she came up to this man she slipped and sprai'.ed her foot—and from that moment the mischief was done She fell in love with Vivian straightway, and no power on earth could make her bring him to the villa. She'd told him a tale that suited, for in three weeks they were married and she was 011 her way to England with him." Vivian turned round and began slowly to pace up and down the broken stone floor. Here then was the meaning of that inexplic- I able suspicion wJjicli-Jiad^alwajys lurked in liis mind regarding his father's wife. 'As a tiny boy his governess had taken him down into the hall to meet the new mamma of whom his father wrote such glowing accounts, and now how vividly he remem- lx?red shrinking from her kiss, the first and last he would ever suffer her to bestow. The jingle of Edward Vivian's spurred iteels ceased, his dark eyes ran over Douglas in a way that made the man uncomfortable, though he had kept back nothing. She hadn't any money when I sent Jack out to meet her—you know there was a mar- vellous likeness between us ;-80 she gave him the only bracelet she wore. When he came back after his night spent at Brank- pome Hall, Jack told me she had "aid the tiling was dear to her, localise her husband— your father—had drawn the design engraved "upon if. This might give you some idea whether I'm telling the truth or I r.ot, but if you're in any doubt ask miladi herself when she comes back from her second honeymoon." "This is true." put in Vivian tersely, and John Douglas nodded. J some satisfaction. Well, ilir Von. rcienci.~ev.ei), yjijiets have such a 1.1.; !J- oe-.iii to trouriie me. anc; w;ien 1 Jieara riir.r you were going to marry Violet, I thought ) I'd manage to get you here somehow, and make a clean breast of the whole affair. The girl's mine, no matter what I've Ixren, and | blood's thicker than water." Again Edward Vivian looked at him with unerring scrutiny. Douglas' face bore irrefutable proof of the record which lay r hehind him, but the longer the other ma lingeied with him the more keenly conscious he became of a likeness ti-, the woman lie loved. It was subtle hut certain, and Vivian, ,otil(i not have described wherein it lay; it .was there, and this was all he knew 01 'fought to know. "But this story of Mrs. Vivian has no bearing oil Miss Douglas:" John Douglas chuckled slyly. a Xo, perhaps rou think not, but if it hadn't been for Ursula we shouldn't have come to this pitch —my pal and I—then it just happened that Margaret was here as well. My conscience foaded me into telling you this story of the J aotes; a human wish to get my own back < iet my tongue wagging about Ursula. She J bargained that she would send me a hundred sounds to keep my mouth shut, and when :he bribe came it was only fifty." Doughs threw a fresh log Oil the fire, it sent upward a column of sparks, and a .vavering sheet of flames in whose flicker Edward Vivian saw the change that had suddenly come over the man. He was bent t and broken, a man who has struggled till he is wenry of the fight and careless of its issue. "And it is not your intention to claim kin- ship with Vivian's voice halted, and Douglas struck his clenched hand into the palm of the other with passionate force. NeN-et-! I've only spent a few pounds of the fifty Ursula sent me, and the re- mainder will give me a fresh start out of England somewhere; it doesn't much matter where 1 go now, but I daresay niv choice'll fall on Canada, it's the common outlet for the old country's renegades and failures; a [ few years ago it was Afi-ici, but fashion changes in this as all other things." At least you will accept from me the fifty pounds which Mrs. Vivian failed to send you, i-11 "I wouldn't touch a penny of your money, sir. -No, I've not fallen as low as that, and when I get away I'll wipe the flate and start afresh. If I'd my time to go through again I'd piece it out differently from this parcel. but it's 110 u,e regretting. My worst wish now is that you'll be happy with the girl and she with you, and—perhaps those noles'll turn up one day. I'd like to have seen Violet, but 11 His voice clicked and broke in a sob, and Vivian understood. That half-choked sound was John Douglas's futile and bitter regret for what might have been. A few minutes later Edward Vivian rode I away from Bantling's Barn, a strange sense of pity stirring within him. He had tried to persuade Douglas to remain in England and pull himself together, but lie was obdu- rate. He had smiled with twisted mirth, say- ing he had put his hnnd to the plough, ano wasn't going to look back. And so Vivian j left him, with only the bats and the owls fo; company. j f CHAPTER XXXVI.—THE LIE DIRECT.

Vivian had promised John Douglas before leaving him that lie would not reveal his secret to Violet, but lie wrote a courteous note to Mr. Smith saying he had decided to pursue no further the investigation of the identity of the man found shot dead in the park of Endercross Manor. He told Violet herself that it was con- clusively proved that the name of the man posing as John Douglas was really Dawson, also that he was in no way connected with I her mother's life. Her faith in him was complete, and it did not occur to her that though this statement was true, yet it was not all the tiuth. j.^vciieuienr 111 the neighbourhood of Ender- eross was dying out for want of fuel, though ? at intervals it leapt spasmodically forth agaiii in fresh wonderment as to 1. and where Hltoda Brownlees had spent her time during her brief absence from the village where she had been born and would die. i Day by day I!hoda was growing weaker, yet she made no allusion to the fdn who shadow hung so heavy above her head. In one of those ways, for which there is no accounting, it leaked out that the fortune bequeathed by Mrs. Douglas to her I daughter consisted of spurious banknotes. Edward Vivian had sternly bidden all gossip to be kept beyond Ithoda's bedroom, but one day, a week after his conversation I with John Douglas, the widow who had come from the village to nurse Hhoda, in ) deference to John Brownlees' refusal to have a professional nurse, had spoken a few un- guarded words to the maid who had entered the sick-room for some purposes. It's my belief her mother knew well enough the notes were false," she said in closing, with a condemnatory inclination of her grizzled head. Sho must have been a wicked woman to play such a trick on a poor, pretty young thing like Miss Douglas. I should think she would get a turn when she found her twenty thousand pounds wasn't worth as many halfpence." A warning finger wpnt up, for the golden head on the pillow stirred, the shadow of j the heavy dark lashes lightened on the transparent cheek, and a second later Rhoda opened her eyes, looking round with the sub- conscious questioning of one who has newly awakened. Rut she had never slept, she had only dozed, and the sound of those muffled voices and what they had conveyed had sent the blood leaping in her veins like fire. It was J early, the hour when night and morning meet, for now they watched beside her all the time, lest the feeble spark flickered out when no one was beside her. It would be six hours at soonest ere Miss Douglas carno to pay her daily visit, but—her wasted hands locked themselves in passionate prayer—she would beat back the end till then. Always she had intended to confess, but always she had shrunk from it with l that fear of guilt betrayed which is never far from the strongest of us. Violet's marriage to Edward Vivian wa9 fixed for a week later, and now Mrs. Mar- shall and Miss Brayton were busily superin- < tending the preparation of the simple trousseau. Violet had demurred at her lover's haste; they had better wait till the mystery was cleared that hung around the action of her mother in bequeathing her a fortune of spurious bank-notes, but Vivian, with quiet though masterly authority, put her objections aside. Edward Vivian had given hi.9 step-mother no hint of his knowledge of her past, nor did he intend to. She was happy with Mar- shall, and for his sake as well as that of the father whose memory he held sawed, he Votild keep her secret, as John Douglas had kept from i im Ursula Vivian's knowledge of hi" exchange of the notes. The doctor has been here, Miss, and has told us that Miss Rhoda won't live till sun- down. Nothing was to disturb her." I)r. Vivian has forbidden my seeing lierr" asked violet, anxiously. "Oh, no--not you," answered Irg. Brown. You always seem to soothe her, and she has made us all promise that you shall have those things when she is gone." Violet sighed Hhoda was so young, yet her life was ending, crushed and broken like a lily that has bur.-t into bloom during the roughness of a winter storm, and all for love —love of a man who had given her pinch- beck for gold, and and taunted her because her faith in him had blinded her to the fraud. Rhoda had sinned, but Violet Douglas was conscious only of a great and tender pity ao-) she stepped lightly into the chamber, where the stillness seemed full of the Ideating of unseen things. Hhoda was propped high on a pile of pillows, her hands tight clasped on a bunch of purple violets which Vivian had gathered as he came through the gardens, for lie cotil;l never forget that, save for Gerald's lack of honour, this girl would have been allied to him by tje, of kinship..Tier hair had grown during the weeks of her illness, and now it huos 11. bo uj; br glioulders i-u crlnkku. masses "palest gom. coqaettlSMy caught up on one temple with a knot of lavender 1 ribbon -As Violet entered she flashed a meaning look on the woman who watched by her bed" who, with a courteous acknowledgement of Miss Douglas, passed out of the room. Violet slipped on her knees, and catching j Rhoda's hands and the flowers within them, she lifted them to her face that she might inhale the exquisite, earthly odour of the violets. How lovely they are, dear." Yes, the doctor brought me them, and he said he loved violets more than all other flowers; then I knew it was because you are a violet. But that isn't why I've wanted so badly to see you—it's about—about those false bank-notes that people are saying your mother left you. Is it true that tale I heard this morniggP." »

CHAPTER xxxv i.-(Continued.) Violet Douglas raised her face from the flowers iu which it was buried, thrusting tlightly back, though not releasing the hands o' ,the dying girl. Dimly from some hitherto unknown region other brain a whisper echoed that here was the reason for the presentiment which haunted her in Rhoda's presence. First she had l>een aware of it when she insisted upon accompanying her lover into the room | 11. lay wrapped in the sable coat that struck so strange a note, and once born the feeling had never died. ies, Rhoda, it is true; there must have been some mistake, and the notes are not jenuine." The words were husky and indistinct, hut they reached the ears of Rlioda Brownlees, tor her senses were quickened with the power often vouchsafed for a moment to those who wait the end. "1 told you part that day when I told you how the man shot himself, but I was too ;reat a coward to tell you everything, till I knew there wasn't time left for me to lie wondering what people would say about me." Is it what I ought to know, dear?" asked violet anxiously, her dark, dilated eyes wandering to the sheet of pale spring sun- light that slanted into the room. "Yes, it's right you ought to know, and you alone. I've had those other notes-I mean the real ones-all the time." Violet Douglas gave no sign of the frenzy of excitement and suspense which were con- suming her, but her hands tightened their grip of Rhoda's. Suddenly she was con- scious of a horrible fear that the girl might I not live till she had told her this story which was so vitally interwoven with her, Violet's, life. "You cannot mean that previously you w'ere^connected with my mot her;" she said. No not that; you were strangers to me when you came to Endercross. It happened like this. I told you before how Gerry brought me a hundred pounds in bank-notes to buy me off with Violet nodded. Well^ I flung them away, and swore I wouldn't touch a penny of his money, and ijefore he could pick them up the wind blew them away into the wood, but after I'd left Gerry I went back and found one of them. ( This took me away. 1 think I went away (rom Kelston, butshe loosened her hands Ironi Violet's and ran her fingers through her curling hair as though she thought the action would spur her brain to answer her demand—" 110, I cannot tell where I went nor jvhat I did; biit-it must have been where I thought no one would know me." You went away with Gerald Vivian's mo nor I "1 lIaOnc a penny of my own, for my father would hardly allow me a penny; he was always afraid that I would hark back," she smiled strangely, after some of my I mother's people; and, in spite of all his care, I believe I have. Well, 1 was soon tired of I being away, then the irk a got hold of me 1 that 1 would come baek and shoot Gerry. I vaiii,e-I)ttt you know all this. This man took the revolver from me, and a few minutes after he shot himself, but I was still near enough to hear what he said beloro he pulled the trigger." She closed her eyes for a minute to rally her feeble strength. Great heavens The notes are gone!' He stopped then, and a minute later he iiitittcre(]: The game's played out; I've reached the limit.' After that there was the shot. I flashed on my light, and there, not twenty yards from where he lay, was a. roll of papers. I clutched them up and ran; and—when I got to a place where 1 could look at them I saw what they were—bank- notes for twenty thousands pounds—your fortune, Miss Douglas. It was your money that bought the furs and the diamonds. t My moneyshe breathed at length. And this-this is why you wished me to take these things?" A surge of soft pink btained and brightened Rhoda's pallid face, a new light [lashed from the eyes that sought those of the other girl. -No; I wanted you to take them then l>ecause I had got it into my head that you loved Gerry, and would widen the breach between us—for I kept on hoping it would come'right—then the day when I opened my ryes and saw you look at Dr. Vivian, I knew he was the only man in the world for you— and I was sorry for thinking you had wanted Gerrr from me." There was a short silence. I thought he'd biirely want you, because you are so lovely—and—and—everything that I wasn't." Gerald never loved anyone but you, dear." The lie came unfalteringly forth, for once Violet Dot.glas overcame her scruple for truth, for every finer instinct of her nature writhed from thought of implanting a sting in the breast of the dying girl. She had loved Gerald Vivian with every fibre of her passionate, ill-guided being, and Violet would never be the one to destroy her faith in him. I'm glad-oll. so glad to hear you say that," she panted out at length. You don't know what it means to me. Perhaps he'll go on loving nie to the end, and then—he'll find me waiving on the other side. I wish he could have come to see me hefore lie went away, but perhaps it was better he didn't— the parting might have been harder then, because my love had come back. Violet stooped and kissed the smiling lips where happiness had driven away the curves of pain. "I know, dear, that Gerald will come to you—I shall write and tell him you are wait, ing." 1 And you'll take the things?'' "If you wish it." "They were bought with your money. I'd always longed to deck myself with diamonds and I did it—only it was no good. The othei notes "—she stopped with a rasping pant for breath, "you'll find in the hollow of the big old oak that stands beside the little planta- tion—where Gerry and I used to meet. They're tucked in so that no storm can touch them. Good-bye, I'm going where 1 shall never he scorned—any more. Tell Gerry I died thinking of him—of '• Her tired voice sank into silence, her heavy lids drooped never to lift again. And ere noon of that day Rhoda Brownlees had passed away in a sleep which was truly the twin sister of death. < (TO BE CONCLUDED),

f EHUDDLAN. THE WAll.-Rhuddlan his now supplied fifty recruits for the Army. HARVEST FESTIVAL.—Thanksgiving services for the harvest will be held in the parish Church on Wednesday, September 30th, and Thursday, Oc'ober 1st. Wednesday, the services will be as fol'owa 8 a.m,, Holy Communion; 3.15 pm, English service, preaoher the Vory Rev the Dean of 81 Asnph 7 p.m., Welsh, preacher Kav John Owen, B A;, vicar of Tryddyn. Thursday, October 1st, English servioe at 7 p.m., praaober Rev J F I Reeoe, B.A., vicar of Llanrhoe. oo26

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( RURAL_ LIFE. 1 BT A SON OP THE SOII* AN ORCHARD PEST. Preventive steps must now be taken against the moths whose wingless females crawl up the stems of fruit and forest trees during the winter and deposit eggs in the interstices of the rind of twigs and branches. Among these are the winter moth and the great winter moth. From the eggs laid by these moths caterpillars are hatched early in the spring, and cause much injury to a fruit crop by boring into buds and eating young green shoots. Sometimes the trees, as a result of this destruetiveness. become as bare as in winter, and are. besides, seriously injured for another season. The caterpillars attack apple, plum, damson, filbert, and cob-nut trees, and occasionally currant and goose- berry bushes that are set under apple and plum trees in fruit plantations. The best method of preventing this damage I is to put bands of some sticky composition round the trunks of trees, and so catch the female moths when they attempt to climb. WINTER MOTHS. Upper sketch—Winged Male and Wingless Female Winter Moths. Lower sketch— Male and Female Moths and Caterpillar of the Mottled Umber or Grgat Winter Moth. Cart grease made from fat or oils, and with- L out tar, is recommended as the best and safest composition for that purpose, and in all cases the grease should be spread on bands of grease-proof paper about ix inches wide. The bands should be placed about four or five feet from the ground, and examined frequently to see they do not get too dry. Spraying is the best remedy against the caterpillars; but arsenical sprays should not be used when the trees are in blossom, nor where gooseberries for early picking, or herbs and vegetable for early use, are growll under the trees. A FAMOUS ENGLISH SIEGE. We have been reading much of sieges amongst other terrible incidents of war; and as I went through Basingstoke recently I thought of the last great siege which took place in England (let u> hope most fervently, for all time). The powerful fortresses of Liege and Namur. held as they were by some of the bravest and moH resolute eoldiers in the world, were battered in by the terrible Ger- man siege guns within a few days; and prob- ably before such an attack, when delivered with all it-s awful weight and incessancy, no fortress in the world could long survive. How lifferent from the time of the Civil War, when Basing Hou«e, a Royalist fortress, held out four years, blocking the road to the west. I11 I he late summer of 1645 Cromwell was directly commissioned by Parliament to take it. After six days' constant cannonade its defences were taken, one after the other, on October 14th in that year, and finally it. was burnt. Though the siege created .such havoc two old English dovecotes or pigeon houses have survived to this day, and one of them is among the best-preserved examples of this sort of building we have. They probably j escaped destruction because they were some distance away from the house. The chief of the two pigeon-houses is octagonal in form. and built of brick and tile. In the centre is 1 an ingeniously-constructed bidder by which the 500 nests in the structure could be I OCTAGONAL DOVECOTE AT BASING HOUSE. reached. The other is thatched, and has no ladder in the centre, though no doubt it originally possessed one. The arrangement of the nest-holes in the Basing example is of considerable interest, the bricks being so arranged that the birds nest in comparative secrecy. Old and picturesque dovecotes or pigeon houses of this kind once formed an almost in- separable feature of the country-house. Hardly a farm or manor house of importance was without one. and a considerable business was done in many cases in the production of young birds or "squahs" for sale—an industry which might well be revived amongst us. The first object of the manorial pigeon-house was doubtless the supply of young birds to the household, but in course of time the young birds became so numerous that they were sent to market, and so an industry sprang up, and was carried on with the same success as the old decoys, the beginning of which was prob- ably due to the same idea of supplying food for the household. CONDENSED AND DRIED MILKS. An interesting note on these* products an- pears in the annual report of the Government chemist. The description condensed milk" is usually applied to milk from which water has been removed by evaporation to such a degree that one part by weight of the con- densed product contaiifs the milk solids of two and a-half to three parts of the original milk. This condensed milk is still liquid, and, if it has not been sweetened, contains from 60 to 68 per cent, of water. It frequently, however, contains as much as 40 per cent. of sugar with only 24 to 29 per cent, of water. Of late years condensed milk has been pre- pared in which the removal of the water has been carried much further, leaving the milk solids in a nearly dry condition. This pro- duct. which is variously described as dried milk or milk powder," contains the milk solids of seven to eight times its weight of whole milk, or, when prepared from skimmed milk, the milk solids oi nine to ten times its weight of skimmed or separated milk. e water in milk powders does not usually t exceed from 2 to 8 per cent. SHEEP DIPS. 1 In the same report it is stated that 109 t, samples of sheep dips were received for ex- amination in connection with applications by manufacturers for inclusion of their prepara- tions in the officialschedule of efficient dips." Before the Board of Agriculture give their approval to any dip they must be satisfied that the formula provides for a sufficient jDuautitj- of IL recosmiied active iiuueditiit. euid j tnair tne cup nas oeen matte in accordance with the formula. In seventy-nine cases the samples were found to agree with the formulas, and were of effective strength at the proposed dilution; ^iahteen were defici-ent in active ingredients ) at the dilution submitted by the materlj IS the remaining twelve cases the formulw re* ) quired modification to ensure an efficient dip* I Forty-two samples of approved dips, pur chased in different parts of the country, wer& also examined with the object of ascertaining- whether the dips as sold corresponded in com position with the samples which had received^ the Board's approval. The analyses ihowedc that eleven of these had not been prepared! according to the formulae previously 6U mitted and approved.

LLANRHAIADR RECRUITING MEETING. A largely-attended and very enthusiastic I meeting to explain the righteousness of the British scbion in the war, and to urge young men to tffer themselves for their King and country, was held on TucEday night, all the Schoolroom, Llanrhaiadr, the meeting having been oiganised by the local committee, Mr John Williams, The Cottage, Llanrhaiadr, be- ing the hon secretary. Mr Thomas Williams, J.P., Llawesog, presided, and most earnest speeches, in Welsh and English, were delivered by Colonel E J Swayne, Mr D S Davies, Mr W G Rigbv, Mr Owen Williams, Mr Salt (Cae'r- fed wen), Mr David Jones (Gwynfa), Mr Griffbh Jones (Egiwys Wen), and ths Rev D W Evana (Vicar of PrionV An apology was received from th9 Bev D W Evans, vicar of Llanrhaiadr, I who was unavoidably prevented attending. j. Votes of thanks to the Chairman and the speakers were passed, on the motion of Mr B B Searell. secotidtd by Mr J Hughes, Prion, Searell. secotidtd by Mr J Hughes, Prion, =-=-= I Several ycuag men have offered themselves for the army as a result of the meeting.

I Mr Lloyd George's Trumpet Call to Young Welshmen. A great was speech was delivered by Mr Lloyd George at tha Qaeen's Hall, Londou, on Saturday ftfieraooo, to a great gathering largely compos :d of ycung Welshmen. Lord Plymouth, in mourning for his son just killed in the w&r, presided. The Ch&ncelior, in the course of tome brilliant invtc-iye, denounced the Kaiser's "martial stride," which, expressed in his jingo ppeeches, has been a contributory cause of the European cbtacljem. The P/useian jiiiaker he described as "the road hog of Europe," end declared that Britain stood fcr the freedom of email I nationalities. He showed that while France, at great eacrifice to herself, respected in 1870 the neutrality of Belgium, Germany to-day had trampled I a gellitut, inoffendve little nation under foot inertly to ^ain time." This time had now been losf, and cur enemy, bank- rupt cf international honour and respect, stands shameless before the psopV. The Cbancsllor pointed out that the I world owed much to the little nations, and concluded an inspiriting passage by I eajing, God has chosen little nations as the vessels by which He carried the choicest wines to the lips of humanity to I rejoice their heart, to txiit their facae, to stimulate and strengthen their hit h. And if we had stood by when two little nations were being crushed end broken by the brutal bands of baibsriEm, our shame would have run down the everlaetiDg ages.' GarmsDy, said Mr Lloyd George, has deliberately broken this treaty, and we were in honour bound to stand by Belgium (cheers). Belgium has been treated brutally, how brutally we shall not yet know. We know already too much. Had she itflicted any wrong upon I' Germany which the Xaisar wes bound to redress ? She was one cf the most ur- olfending little countries in Europe. !• There she was, petceable, industrious, j thrifiy, baid-woiking giving offence to no one. Her cornfields have been trampled doF ii. Her villages have been burned to ( the ground. Her art treasures have been destroyed. Her men have been slaugh- tered jes, and her women and children, tou. What had the done ? Hundreds and thousands of her people, their neat, cam < fortable little homes burnt to the dpst, wardetirg homelfBS in their own land. What is their crime ? Their crime was that they trusted to the word of a Prusfaian King. I do not know what the Kaiser hopes to achieve by this war. I have a shrewd idea what he will accomplish (cheers). But one thing he has made certain— that no nation in future will commit that 5 crime etain (cheers). Mr Lloyd George closed a brilliant speech by emphasising the stimulating possibilities for the whole nation of the spiiit of sacrifice so suddenly exalted by the convulsions of this great war, and called eamesly upon young Welshmen to do their part in defence of liberty and justice, and driving back the enemy of Europe. The Chancellor in the course of hia ppeech eaid he would like to ree a good Welsh Army in the field to imitate the deeds of the Welsh soldiers of old. He is taking steps to (ffecfc this to a certain extent—that is to say, he is head- ing a movement to raise a complete Welsh Army Corps. At tha close of the meeting there was a big rush of young Welshmen to the recruiting station close by for enlistment.

MEETING AT LIVERPOOL. Mr Churchill, Lord of the Admiralty, Mr F E Smith, Conservative member for Waltcn, and Mr T P O'Connor, Nationalist M.P. for Scotland Ward, Liverpool, ad- dressed a great meeting of 18,000 people, proclaiming the jaatioe of our cause, the need fcr destroying Prussian militarism, and the demand for recruits to do this. It was an imnen e meeting.

MR G ALEXANDER IN II THOSE WHO SIT IN JUDGEMENT." Thoso who ait Ie Judgement," a four- act play by I i Miobael Q? .e," was fault- lesSil1 produced at the S James' Theatre, on Saturday evening. 13 is rich ia local colour, laid on somewhat heavily, the farcical humours of a salecti suburb being contrasted with the grand Gaingoi horrors of an African swamp. Much of the piece w n d teem jist a little improbable bet for the fact that Trent is played by Sir George Alestwider, who without forcing the note, nakej him mo e sympathetic. Miss Henrietta Watson made Margaret af tractive and intense. Mr Nigil Piajfair eave an amusing study of the ultra-common- tlaoe Mears, and Mr Regie a! Owea was no E88 natural; 8 Tommy. The piece was ensnusiastioally received and there were loud calls not only for the author but for a speech which Sir Gaorge Alexander made of reoord brevity.