Abergavenny Chronicle

Owing to the difficulty in obtaining pup- plies of coal for the Wandsworth Baths the second-class swimming bath is to be closed until the end of the winter season. According to a new law carried, unani- mouslv through the Iceland's Parliament alcoholic drinks have been forbidden in Ice- land. The two last baskets of champagne have been exported. It is reported from Madrid that, on the fvaiser's birthday, 10,0<X) reactionary Spani- ards handed in cards to the German Ambas- sador expressing thanks for the rewoval by the German authorities of the Ferrer statue at Brussels. In reply to this the Republi- cans, Radicals, Democrats, and Liberals have handed in numberless cards to the British and French Ambassadors. MiddletOex County Council have decided to oppose the London County Council Elec- trieity Bill. Mr. H. Nield, M.P., said the Bill would not pass second reading. The Hon. F. W. Young, formerly Minister of Crown Lands and Immigration, has sailed in the Mooltan to take up the duties of Agent-General for South Australia in London.

'———"—————— Z Z Z Z I' I I 0  [AURt?htsReserved.J jj I I, I I iil THE SILVER DHGGER ?li?i ilIii?l I j BY l? R. A. J. WALLING, I II Author of "Flaunting ,1:'01 Devon," &c.  = = = = =  ——————————————————— ?-.?- ?-? ??? —?. — $ I CHAPTER I. j TN WHICH MARTIN TORFREY PROPOSES. Martin Torfrey's lot would have been envied by most men. He owned a great estate and a considerable fortune. He had youth and strength. This October afternoon he set out to crown his worldly bliss. Like every other young man in health, Torfrey was in love. Like all other such -men, he was in love with the most glorious Woman that Nature had ever designed—pos- session of her was all he needed to make him the happiest man on earth. Everything was in his favour. If, when lie offered himself to her with all the acces- sories that dead and gone Torfreys had accumulated for him, Margaret did not accept the offer, it could only be because her affections were engaged elsewhere, and "that Martin Torfrey did not believe. He had ridden over to Haylands, en- deavouring on the way to remember the pretty speeches that had been so easily com- posed in his own library at the Villa Zamora, and were so difficult to recall now that the time for reciting them was approaching. When he came into the pre- sence of Margaret in her own drawing-room it was a very ordinary and every-day Eng- lishman who blundered with a good deal of difficulty into the middle of his su bject. "Look here, Margaret," he said, button- ing up his coat, ad in a fit of desperate determination, "I came over on purpose this afternoon." Margaret sat herself in a low chair. She had her head averted, and was gazing into -the fire. The light of it shone through some stray wisps of hair, and brought into his mind one of his treasured tags. He mur- mured "Fair is my love when to the summer air She doth her locks of tangled gold unbind." "Mr. Torfrey!" cried Margaret. "Don't interrupt me," said Torfrey peremptorily, for there was something in her manner that restored his courage. What I meant to do was this. I should ,nave knelt down on the hearthrug, just about there, and I should have said, Mar- garet, no ma,n is more conscious than my- self of his own imperfections and unworthi- nes. I have nothing in the world that elthtles me to breathe on the same hemi- -sphere with vou, who are the most beautiful -and glorious woman in the world. Maigaret had averted her head still more. "Arid I should have continued, Is there ■any hope for the suit of such a halting lover? His one recommendation, Margaret, s that he loves you with all his being, and !In your hands is his hope of future happi- ness.' I think I had it a little more 'Smoothly than that, but that is roughly the •sense of what I had proposed to say." Torfrey's voice had sunk low, and there "Was now a moment of silence. Margaret looked steadily into the fire, and Torfrey at the spot on the hearth-rug where he should have knelt. He slowly raised his eyes, and they met hers. Then in an instant his knees Were on the hearthrug on the very spot he had indicated, and she felt her hand im- prisoned. "Margaret!" he said, "can you ever for- give me for being such a blundering idiot" I could not if you had really done it," said she. J But she would not turn her flushed face o him as she spoke. Yet, now, Margaret—now? Imagine that have all the eloquence with which a lovely °?*? ever inspired her lover: you won't im too much to express my love for you* "fSaJct* can you love me? ?' ??.r ajgarct, can you love me? She ? ?voured to release her hand. Tor-  looked where he had made white marks unon the fingers with the pressure of his I am so sorry," said he. "Dear hand!" ba rin, greatly, he kissed it. Margaret sat quite still while he put his arms about her -ELiid she sat quite still for a long time there- after—till, indeed, Mr. Hayland camp in, ffesh from the coverts, and stamped into the drawing-room, demanding Margaret and -tea and a light all in one breath. Then seeing how Margaret was engaged, stammered apologies. "I'm afraid I've been making an ass of "Ilyself l Mr. Hayland," said Torfrey. "Tut, tut! A man of your years, Torfrey! Good lord Well, I see how it is. Rang it 11 going to have a wedding! a ,ve'rc g01l1g ha.ve wee e IP.&; I In glad you take it kindly, sir. "Tak2 it kindly? Paternal blessing, and all that? Why, yes, of course; delighted, ^y boy! Can't imagine anything more to Illy liking, if I must lose the girl. But we're R<;>ing to have a wedding—and I hate wed- ■dings! Fui-w, bother, contusion—confound It :-urset'] everything." :1 hope you'll forgive us this once, sir, ald Torfrey. "W e won't do it again." "Eh? Well, of course. What's the good of my "Complaining? Fathers take a back seat in these a»'iirs. I'm very glad, very glad indeed. Little TIInx: never to give me the slightest hint! It be dull at Haylands; but she'll ri. ghten up that old place of yours-and it ants brightening. By the way, why don't °u alter the foreign name of it? I hate Qreign names! Torfrey of the Villa Zamora can't endure it. Now, what about Beech- 'bands ? You have some good beeches there. Don't you think 'Torfrey of Beechlancla "Would be better? "What's in a name, Mr. Hayland? I've no special leaning. We'll let Meg select a new name for her new house." The old gentleman soon hit on another subj ect. "I hear you have a new neighbour, Tor- frey—taken that little place on the other 'side of the river." I, Oli, yes; he arrived three weeks ago. A Mr. Hadfoni--Henry Radford-a. venerable -old man. lie sms a gentleman; but I know little of him. I made a call, and father liked him, though he seemed eccen- tric. He is evidently wealthy—and wealth COVerR a multitude of eccentricities. I did 11 ot gather that he was a woman-hater, but of his peculiarities is that he keeps no ^onien servants. He has three or four men about the little place, but he's fixed up with Motors and a steam-yacht quite in the style ? a Tnillior?aire." I Whew exclaimed? Mr. Hayland. 'That '??ns money. It's a good old English name ? ? make an excuse to call on him. How s ?r sister, Torfrey?"  Oh, Lucv's w,-Il-iii the best of ?th and "high spirits. She's ,lookmg for- W;'d to a visit from Diego. ? Diego' said Mr. Hayland. That 8 dl .I. .? young lover of hers. A very decent  ?g fellow, but another foreign-sou ndmg h ?. Hang.' it, why didn't 3 the fellow get, ?self christened in ? d?cent English i ?ner?" '?'" cried Margaret, "you aM un- <T??onnble. How can %u hold Mr. Holmes eSIlO '] for the name that was given to hill1 ns; )l for the name th;¡ twas gl ell .0  oJ Ins godfathers and godmothers lD 'ba?i?? godfathers an d godmothers 10 ba,o ?h?thers and godmothers! They "Olig ? be shot, if they're not dead long f °r, taking such a fool of the boy. I ab(, "I'll"tQ .,?r kickshaw rames. Now, ?Mic ? 'Diego Holmes! Holmes is a aro?d 0ij  English name. Y hy not John Holm^o William Holmes? A?d \jr*f "• Hayland stumpnd cut- of the ?o.n a?r- Hayland stumpy ctt- of the &avin» h? stumped m. r Havin" obtained Marg?ct's wy s. „ -??,tiu '? stayed late in the e'Veøng ?ith her aad then rode home, cont?mplat- OW'1 h ?Qg. j ??? happines3. Aa h? r. ?ame down to the ferry over the ?Ivp?  ulO he passed the house of his new '!??)ib ? Radford; it was all ablaze with ? Slit p?low in the river lay 'the steam ? ?^cht ^hlto and fairy-like in the moon- Ji§ht 'i01'/rey shouted for the ferry, and i ?seBtl ? ?? h? own men gulled across ?- hu?? 1, Uge bo?,t with a flat stern, which they fb" acked to the beach so that Torfrey's ??se n ?a? on board. Torfrey fol- ?ed could walk on board. Torfrey fol- As 'tlnd they pushed off. theY Pulled slowly over they went ??ost ?? j. the stern of Mr. Radford's j | y^cht rp^1r ey heard himself hailed. "is t1!y1?u,'rrorfrey^ Good night!" ?.?ood ?J?./??y? ?od night!" "Ooof? ;1ht!" he answered, looking up. li i new f-- Tras leaning over the stern witli  hite beard rhi-aing in ? silver IIehiaing in The soft wind blew to him a word or two in a language he did not understand as his boat covered the short distance between the yacht and his own slip. He looked back when he landed. The yacht was outlined in light., and the win- dows of the cottage on the other shore were still blazing. CHAPTER II. I IN WHICH A STRANGE THING 13 R11:CORDED. I The Torfrey estate, with the Villa Zamora, lay on the western bank of the river Aune, almost at its mouth. The woods sloped down to the edge of the water except on the extreme south, where the cliffs ro&e to a modest height of fifty feet, overlooking the English Channel at one of the loneliest points on the coast of Devon. At a little distance from the shore was a rock-girt island of a few acres in extent, and on its highest point remained the ruins of an ancient chapel. The island faced the estuary and protected its roadstead, acting as a natural breakwater. On one side, the channel was deep enough for a ship draw- ing ten feet of water on the other the channel shoaled with a sandy bottom, so that at low t;de it was possible to walk across between the island and the main. The cottage—named as curiously as Tor- frey's house—was on the opposite side of the estuary, and possessed a clearer view seaward, including the whole contour of the island. The railway had not penetrated within a dozen miles of this secluded combe, which was reached from the nearest railway town by a long drive over rough and hilly roads. The village of St. Maurice was at the crest of the ridge of high land a mile back from the sea. As Torffey rode up from the ferry to the house, he caught sight of the square tower of tlw church of St. Maurice, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. It spurred his I thoughts forward to the day when he and Margaret would stand within that village I sanctuary and plight their eternal vows, and Charlie Pudifin should marry them, he declared to himself. The curate-in-charge of St. Maurice was his ancient ally, and one of his few com- panions in that lonely homeland, where farmers and labourers were all the popula- tion, with half-a-dozen crabbers living in cottages along the rivershore, and there was no estate of any importance between him and Haylands. Charlie Pudifin was a really good fellow, a Devon man to the tips of his fingers; it had been a source of regret to Torfrey that his sister had not been able to choose his old friend rather than Diego. Diego was pleasant and lively" doubtless attractive to a woman: but he seemed hardly to have the depth and earnestness that made Pudifhi 60 fine a friend. How- ever, it was not for Torfrey to' dictate to Lucy, of whom he was rather the chum and cor.fidant than the guardian; she had met Diego in London, they had fallen in love with each other—and that sealed the fate of Pudifin's devotion. Torfrey went straight to the library—the glory of the Villa Zamora. It was his favourite resting-place, for he was a book- ish man; there he sat by his fire to dream a little of the time when the great place would have a new mistress. It was near midnight when Torfrey was disturbed by a distant sound. The night was still, with just a eoft breath out of the south-west, and the water was calm. The house slept. Torfrey listened, starting up in his chair. Then came a. loud cry out of the night. Torfrey ran into the hall, unbarred the great door, and stepped out under the porch. The moon had set, but the night was clear and light. He peered in all directions, and listened for a repetition of the try. It came a third time—a piercing shriek now that he waa beyond the walls. He thought it came from the left through the copse that bordered the park-like piece behind the kitchen gardens. He ran in that direction. As he ran, a fluttering figure came to- wards him, and a servant girl whom he re- cognised a8 Lucy's .maid almost fell into his cocruised as Lucy's maid a l i nost fell into his "0, sir! 0, sir!" she cried. "What's the matter with you? Was it you screaming?" asked Torfrey. "O, sir! 0, sir!" she said—"the ey'es! the eyes! The girl was trembling and gasping. He held her off at arm's length, and saw that she was half-demented by tf right. "\Vhat'B the matter with you?" he re- peated. "What are you doing out at this time of night?" She shuddered, but made no answer. "Come back to the house," said Torfrey. "Calm yourself, and tell me what you are afraid of." He led her into the library, gave her a glass of brandy, and watched her eyes as they lost their horror-stricken glare. She was out, she said, to say good-bye to her sweetheart, one Gannett, son of a hind, who was about to go on a journey. She left him at the email gate leading into the road at the end of the path through the copse. As she returned byqtlie copse-path, she was seized by some unaccountable terror, as if there were somebody watching her in secret. So strong was this sense of an unseen pre- sence, that fear made her faint, and she could not say whether seconds or minutes passed before she found herself running past the Shrine in the Wood. Then she saw on each side of her shadowy forms and eyes glaring from among the bushes. She shrieked as she ran, again and again—and then she met Mr. Torfrey. or rev listened closely, watching her fice the whIle. He concluded that she was tell- mg the trlith-as it appeared to her. She was probably over-wrought and hysterical, he told her, scolded her for the indiscretion of being out in the woods at midnight, and sent her to bed. <> The Shrine in the Woods was a sepulchral chapel, built for the reception of his remains by the Torfrey who founded the house. It was in a dense part of the woods, and stood in a little clearing, with a close-sliaven plot of grass around it. Oil summer days it was a pleasant resort, but an uncanny place at night. As Torfrey reflected upon the girl's story and constructed the picture, the idea that had obsessed her gradually took possession of his mind. He became restless and un-. comfortable. At last he determined to dispel the megrims by taking his cigar out into the grounds and walking a3 far as the Shrine and back. He put on an overcoat and set out. As lie approached the fence between the park and the coppice, he was startled to see two figures advancing towards him. These -were men; he stopped and awaited them. When they saw him, they, too, stopped, and drew back into the shadow of the trees. Torfrey began to wish lie had brought a sbck-or, better, some more lethal weapon. But lie lacked not conrs^e. "Who are you?" he cried; "and what are you doing here ? One stepped out and burst into laughter. "Torfrey, by J ave he said. 11 C'iiarl i e "Torfrey, I,, exclaimed Torfrey, recognis- ing the curate, and going up to him. "What freak is this?--and who's that with you?" "Ought to apologise to you, Torfrey, for wandering about your grounds by moon- light but this is my friend Hoskirgs. You don't know him? No, you came down before his time. now at Westerport, doctoring; Torfrey, whose estate we've in- vaded. Torfrey was not in his most gonial mood. "Hoskings," said the curate, "is staying with me for a few days. I wanted him to see that curiosity of yours over in the copse—the Shrine, you linov,uncier the most eerie and blood-curdling conditions, so I brought him down at midnight." Torfrey felt a little relieved. I "Oh!" he said. "That explains every- thing." "Docs it?" asked the curate. "Did you hear screams?"' "Yes. The conditions were even moro ?o?I-curdling- tba.n I bargained for." "Too bad of you, Charlie, to be prowling about in the Woods like tb.i? frightening the humblest of your parishioners out of their wits." Torfrey related the servant's story. "So here are the owners of the eyes that glared and sent the girl into hysterics." "I'm sorry to upset your theory, Torfrey. But it won't work. When we heard the screams we must have been half a mile up the hill. I've no doubt Hoskings could look fierce enough to frighten anybody, if he tried. But the range was impracticable. So we don't explain all." "No," said Torfrey musingly, "of course you don't. The girl must have had the horrors. I'll walk a little way back with you. unless you'd like to bring your friend in for a smoke?" "Not now, thanks. We'll be glad of your company as far as the road-eh, Hoskings?" His friend assented, and the three walked around by a path through the park, and said good-night ,at the edge of the grounds. Torfrey took the short cut back through the copse. He walked briskly along, smoking a cigar, and stopped sud- denly, fancying he heard a sound. The fears of the maid immediately re- curred to him, and he looked nervously around, advancing more slowly. The inex- plicable, nameless something, the Spirit of the Woods that makes them at night a haunt of mystery and peoples them with ghosts, came down upon him. The vague shadows wavered, and he fancied he saw moving forms. Once he caught the gleam of a phosphores- cent eye. and even Torfrey a man, and familiar with the place-felt a tremor. It was, he said to himself, some fungus on a tree or a sparkle of glass among the bushes. He summoned all his courage to defeat the nervous dread that was getting hold of him, and marched more quickly till he passed the Shrine. He could just see it in a shadowy outline. He would soon be in the open now, and in sight of the house, and he was about to whistle for very relief when he distinctly heard the crunching of dead wood, as though someone stepped behind the screen of bushes. Torfrey stnpped dead-the noise had ceased. T More affected than he cared to admit, he at last cleared the copse and walked quickly home, to the vividly imagined accompani. merit of the servant's cry: "0, sir! The eyes, the eyes! CHAPTER III. IN WHICH MR. RADFORD MAKES A I DISCOVERY. When Torfrey got to bed the fatigue of a long day asserted itself, and he was soon in a. dreamless sleep from which he awakened later than usual in the morning. His sister was already at the breakfast-table, awaiting him. "Well, Mat," she exclaimed, looking up from her letters, you are a nice sort of brother to keep a famishing girl waiting twenty "minutes for your lordship to appear. "Sorry, Lucy—you should not have waited. Why didn't you take advantage of that twenty minutes start? 0, I see," he added, as he saw several sheets of a letter lying on the table in front of her. 'Pon my word, I believe I'm too soon, even now. What does Diego say? Is he coming next week?" "Yes; he says that among other things," said Lucy, putting the letter in her pocket, and commencing to pour coffee. Torfrey applied himself to his breakfast. He remembered that it would be necessary shortly to tell Lucy that he was going to dethrone her from the place of honour at that table. Lucy Torfrey was only nineteen, but she had been his housekeeper for three years, and a very good housekeeper to boot, though she was still as skittish as a school- girl, and, according to her feminine acquaintance, would remain a hoyden to the end of her days. The appearance of the heroine of last night's escapade to ask a question or re- ceive a command from his sister reminded Torfrey that he had not mentioned it to her. Now the girl looked so imploringly at him that he refrained front speaking in her presence. When she ha3 gone out, he asked: You slept well last night, Lucy?" "As usual." "You were not disturbed In the night?" "Never a wink." You heard no bloodcurdling shrieks, no marrow-piercing sereame?" "No. Did you? What had you for eupper?" "I took no supper last night." "Ah, that's it: you went to bed hungry, and it was your appetite crying out to you in your dreams." "You make very free with my appetite. But as a matter of fact, the ghastly sounds to which I referred shattered the midnight silence before I went to bed, and dragged me out of my den into the park about the hour when disembodied spirits walk." "I saw an empty glass in the library as I looked in this morning early," said Lucy, sententiously. "Perhaps you dreamed in your chair." "No, my incredulous sister. The maid who has just left the room was shrieking herself into hysterics over by the edge of the copse when I came to the rescue," and he told her the story. "So lies the land?" exclaimed Lucy. "I must talk to Polly. I do not allow girls to be out in dark copses at midnight destroy- ing their own nerves and other peoples' Also I must talk to Master Tom Gannett when he returns; these proceedings arc quite out of order." "Quite," Torfrey assented. "But," he added slily, "I should get Diego to talk to Tom Gannett, if I were you-it would be so much more appropriate." IINV,Oulkl it? Where were you so late yes- terday, Mat?" inquired Lucy, by way of quid pro quo. "You know I went over to Haylands in the afternoon." "Yes: I expected you back to dinner." "I istaved there to dinner." "Large party T "Mr. Hayland, Meg—Miss Hayland-and myself." "Oh Not a large party. And how long did it take Mr. Hayland to go to sleep over his wine 11 "He did not go to sleep over his wine, Lucy.. "How inconsiderate of him If I had helm in his place I should have slumbered over the first boHh," "Chaff away, Lucy," said her brother, "When you have finished I have something to tell you. "New? "Well—yes. I don't think anybody else —within a few miles—could tell you." "Nobody nearer than Haylands, you mean? My dear old Mat, I bet you a penny to a new pony that I know it already." "You are naturally a diviner." "May be. Love's blind, they say; but onlookers can see. Your face is eloquent this morning, Mat. So you're going to kick me out of this?" Liiev "Pardon the rough metaphor. But if you're candid, you will admit that the sooner Diego comes to appropriate me and leave room for the new Airs. Mat, the better pleased her husband will be." "You put it very elesrantly, Lucy." "Never mind, dear old Mat. Of course, I'm glad, and all that. I like Meg Hayland very well. It will be great to have a wedding in the family. But don't flatter yourself that this is news to me. Now, I've wasted enough time. I'm going out with the pony, and I shan't be back till lunch." Torfrey looked through his letters and yesterday's papers before he went oat to his affairs of state. Lucy soon had her pony hard at work among the lanes and over the fields beyond the house, and encountered the Reverend Charles Pudinnand his friend Hoskiugr. in the village. She pulled up for a few words with them. Pudifin introduced his friend and mentioned the incident of the night. "I've heard all about it from Martin," said she. "The girl must have had the horrors, and he was naturally in a state of nervous excitement." "Naturally, ialiss Torfrey?" "Of course," she replied. "Squire of dames, female person in danger from unseen foe—and all the rest of it, you know. You would be, wouldn't you?" "I can imagine the circumstances in which I might," said Pudifin, and turned away. Lucy briskly wished them good morning, &nd trotted off. "Poor old Charlie!" she muttered, as she turned her horse's head towards the sea, J and broke out on to the cliff. She reached the bluff at the southern corner of the estuary, dismounted, tied the pony to a fence, and clambered out on the rocks overlooking the island. Then, if her thoughts wandered away from the bright day and the glorious scene before her, it was northward to Scotland; and she took her letter from her pocket. Lucy stealthily kissed the letter before she replaced it in her pocket and, chin in hands, sat looking out over the sea. The tide was low, and there were footprints: across the sandy spit betweeiP her and the island. On the summit of the rock she saw two figures moving about by the ruin of the chapel. Presently they descended to the shore and came slowly across the isthmus. Idly she watched them, and as they came near she made out that one was their new neighbour, Mr. Radford. His long white beard was parted by the wind, and he made an impressive figure in his loose cloak as he strode across the sands. His companion was a younger man, whom she could not identify. They disappeared around the point, and Lucy was thinking of returning to the house when she heard voices among the rocks behind and abov3 her, and made out part of a "spasmodic conversation in Spanish. "La sefiorita adonde esta?" Abaio. "Tate Tate! Sh—ahi! Esta escondida!" "Sy vera a nos. Vamos—esconderse "Parece que se marchava?* Si." "Sabequienes? II si, si." Vamos Ahi!—el amo!" "Adonde esta?" "Abajo en la play a Vamos!" Footsteps clattered among the rocks, and Lucy, rising, was in time to see two men dis- appearing over the brow of the cliff. She had understood little of their dialogue, but gathered that they spoke of her, and she wondered. They had gone out of sight before she reached her pony, and she saw nothing of them on the way back to the Yilla Zamora. Having laughed at her brother's adventure with the hysterical maid, she did not care to risk his comments on her own adventure, and said nothing to him at lunch. Early in the afternoon, they had a call from Mr. Radford. The old gentleman was a pleasant guest, and promised to be an agreeable neighbour in a country where neighbours were so few and far between. Both Torfrey and his sister did their utmost to welcome him to. his new home. He was not only a man of distinguished appearanc-e- his white hair and venerable beard almost belying his smooth skin and fresh com- plexion—but he was also a distinguished talker, with a great fund of anecdote and experience gained during many years of travel. They were rather quiet and stay-at-home people, they told him, and it was grateful to know one who could describe real adven- tures at first hand. The allusion to adven- tures started Torfrey upon a narrative of the affair of the previous night. Mr. Radford shrugged his shoulders as he listened to Lucy's sceptical laughter. I "My dear Miss Torfrey," said he. "I have lived long enough in the world to know that it is perfectly true there are more things in heaven and earth than are com- prehended in our philosophy. I never scoff-" But you don't mean to 6av, Mr. Rad- ford, that you really believe Polly saw dis- embodied eyes staring at her out of our co;'se? I don't dogmatise about anything," he insisted. But, accoiding to vour account, Torfrey, it must be a rather creepy place. A Shrine in the Wood! I should like very much to see it." Thus it came about that they all walked over together to the scene of Polly's ad- venture. The Shrine was a miniature chapel, beautifully designed, with three-pointed arches on each of two sides, a rose-window in the east wall, and a finely moulded porch at the west end. Torfrey unlocked the door and bade them enter. The tomb was in the centre of the build- ing. It was covered by a slab of pure white marble, in which was sunk an inscription setting forth that beneath were the mortal' remains of Septimus Torfrey, who died on the 5th of August, 1825, aged 59 years. The feet pointed to the east, where, beneath the rose-window was a small altar bearing a cruci- fix. Radford crossed himself and made obeis- ance. He remarked on the beauty of the little fane and on the perfection of the sculptured figures in the niches beside the altar. He was told that one was a figure of Septimus Torfrey himself; the other was that of a lady. "His wife?" asked Radford. "I believe not," said Torfrey. "There is a etory connected with the shrine which I will tell you by and by." "A curious idea for a man to be buried in a place like this," remarked the visitor. "Yes; my great-grandfather was a curious man in many ways. He was a lawyer. Lawyers are not usually given to much sentimentally; but his will, which gave most explicit instructions for his in- terment, ordered that he should be buried holding in his hand a tress of hair. It was a tress taken from the head of the ladv whose figure is sculptured there. On his breast was to be placed a gold locket, and the loeket contained a portrait of the ladv." "And this was done?" Oh, yes. There was 'notilin' else to be done. The inheritance of the estate de- pended on obedience to these injunctions, and my grandfather told me when I was a bov how diligently he carried them out." A strange man, indeed," said Radford, as thev filed out of the chapel. "And the lady not his wife! Some romance of his youth, I suppose?" "I believe not: rather of his middle age. Ah! Romance is a dangerous thing for the balance 'of middle-aged men," Radford observed. Romance should be preserved for the delectation of youth and beauty "— and he bowed to Miss Torfrey. Outside, they went round the clearing. And this is where your hand-maiden met with her visitation of ghostly eyes? It would be a weird place on a dark night." "Yes," said Torfrey. "I suppose it would appear so to those who were un- familiar with it. You see there is a path running through the clearing. It is a short cut from the public road to our house." So I see," replied Mr. Radford. And there has been somebody here quite recently, vou observe. The bushes are broken down just here, and the under- growth is trampled." He poked his walking-etick into the thicket. Por Dios!" he exclaimed. fI What's tll,-it? P Torfrey and his sister bent down to look between the branches. Tcrfrey turned whte and trembling. ?Somebody lies there," said Mr. Rad- ford pulling the branches apart. Torfrey r31"ted with nervous fingers, and presently disclosed to view a young man Iving on his face, still as death. They shook him by the shoulder. He made no response. They turned him over, and Lucy gave a little scream as she saw that his face was covered with blood. It'a Tom Gannett! she cried. (To be Continued.)

I AN AERIAL TORPEDO. One of the latest weapons, the outcome of the conquest of the air, is the "aerial tor- pedo," a weapon fired from Zeppelins. The aerial torpedo looks rather like a rocket ia general appearance. It is really a shell nearly two feet in length, the front half of which is packed with "T N T," one of the most powerful explosives known. In the back part of the ehell is a mixture of sulphur, saltpetre, charcoal, and oil, which is dgnited when the shell is fired from tho Zeppelin, and gives off volumes of gas. This gas drives a small but powerful turbine in the Tear of the shell. It is the rotation of this turbine which not only makes the aerial torpedo spin round like an ordinary shell, but at the same time drives it for- ward. The torpedo is discharged by means of a tube which can be turned round at any angle. Its advantage over an ordinary bomb lies in the fact that the turbine allows the torpedo to be aimed much more accu- rately than is the case with a thrown bomb.

Spring salmon fishing in Scotland is being attended with some good sport, especially in the Tay, where two 321b. salmon have been taken. The s.s. Broadvale arrived in the Port of London Ofroll, China with 15,000 cases of eggs, 9.218 tins of eggs in rrolk, and 40,000 cases of frozen poultry.

CONVALESCENT Splendid work is being done by the Wounded Allies' Relief Committee. This pictuie, taken at the Hotel Majestic, in Par-I, shows, from left, to right, wounded Bt lian, French aJld British soldiers.

THE ZEPPELIN CRAZE. Z ppelinitis is epidemic in Germnry. Everybody has it, even the children, who are given toy Zeppelins to play with. Our photograph is taken from a Berlin jostcard;

AN ENEMY OVERHEAD. This striking photograph shows a pnrty of French soldiers in the trenches inter- rupted at their game of cards by a Cerman aeroplane passing over them.

A RIFLE BATTERY. Most of the advancing, digging of trenches or "saps," as they are called, ii done at night, both by English soldiers and by the German. so at any moment the Germans may dash out and try to spring a surprise* on their foes. One of the w_ys in which our soldiers defend themselves against night attacks is by means of a riil-3 battery. This rifle battery is made by fix- ing a number of loaded rifles so that they point in the direction the attackers must come when trying their surprise attack. Before the enemy can get into the treuchea the wire entanglements guarding them must be cut, and it is on these wire entangle- ments that the rifles are trained, as a rule. The cutting of the wire starts an alarm of some kind. No matter how black the night, how invisible the enemy, the moment the alarm is given theft the wire entanglements are being cut, the soldier has only to fire his fixed rifle to be pretty sure of hitting one of his enemies.

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