SERVIANS MONUMENTS. I Servia is becoming a country of monu- ments. Among the peasants a custom pre- vails of honouring relatives slain in battle by the erection of a block of wood, in which is rudely carved a bas-relief of the departed. These monuments are erected near the soldier's home, when it is impos- sible to place them on the field where he fell. As the Servian heroes are now falling in the enemy's territory the monuments are necessarily raised in their homes, and very few farms are to be found to-dav in which at least one of these crude carvings is not to be seen. They are usually painted in vivid reds and blues. Above the head of the wooden figure is an inscription giving I the soldier's name.
a c- —— I j CAll Rights Reserved. I I THE SILVER DAGGER II" II ? R. A. J. WALLING, IBY "A Sea Dog of Devon," &c. ¡II Author of "Flaunting MoU," "A Sea Dog of Devon," &c. t = ?——- -?? ?-?-?- = = = = = = ——== -—??..?——??? -? SYNOPSIS. IHtittn Tomritry, of the Villa Zamora, in Devonshire, -proposes to Margaret Hayland, of Haylands, and is accepted. Martin is sitting: alone in his library the same iiight, when he hears screams. He goes out-and meets Polly, Lucy's maid, who is nearly frantic with terror. Ohl the eyes!" she cries, and tells of seeing some jvwful eyes glaring at her near the Shrine in the Wood. In this Shrine lies one of Torfrey's ancestors, who had had a love romance, and bad been buried with a tress of hair •clasped in his band, and on his breast a locket containing the portrait of a lady. Martin, having heard the girl's story, ■gore out to the Shrine, meeting the Rev. Charles Pudifin and a friend of his, Dick Hoskings. He tells them the story, and all agree that it is imagination on the girl's part. Next morning, however, when Torfrey, his sister Lucy, and M>, 'j.dfo a neighbour, are visitmg the 8hrine, Mr. Radford -tuds the body of Tom Gannett, Lucy's lover, lying in the 'bushes. Tom Gannett is not dead. When convalescent he tells Slow, hearing screams after l'olly had left Lim, he ran in the direction of the sounds. N, ar the Shrine a man came sud- denly upon him and felled him to the ground. The atfair remains a mystery. From this time everything goes wrong -with Torfrey. His cattle are poisoned, and a farm is burned. Radfoie advises him to take a sea voyage and forget his troubles, but be declines. Radford then presses him to Dagea. private detective to solve the my-terie8, and to this proposal Martin agrees. At the same time Radford announces Ads intention of going on a long trip in his yacht the Castilian. The continued absence of Diego Holmes, Lucy's Sa.nee, is a worry to her. She appeals to Pudifin, who loves her, and Hoskings. Both Lucy and Pudifin are suspicious of Radford. iHoskings consents to go on board Radford's yacht and find out all he can about him. CHAPTER VI. » WHICH A DETECTIVE APPEARS. I It was totally dark at evening when a little bustle of excitement at the waterside lwtoken,ed the impending departure of the yacht Castilian. The splendid yessel lay in mid-stream, blazing with lights from stem w stern, and with a full head of steam. A boat was waiting at the landing-place below Penailvetta Cottage for the last arrivals. On the other side of the river two people -Ftrained their eyes, keeping well back under <the trees. "He's brave," said the girl, "but it's a serious and risky thing." "Trust Hoskings," said the man. "He's a good actor, and keeps a cool head. He'll ring the adventure through. I'm not at all excited about him." In proof of which he fidgeted with his feet, and his hands were twitching. "If the other man should scent a trap? suggested Miss Torfrey. "He won't," said Pudifin. "Where have you stowed him?" "He was here waiting for the old gentle- man, who came across to bid Martin adieu once more, and probably to rub out any ugly impression we might have made on him. He had the boat that is now at their slip. I sent Polly down to him. She trailed him up to the house and into the kitchen, and if he was not drunk with brandy and Polly's fascinations in a quarter of an hour I don't know what's happened to him." "And the new hand?" "The new hand—it was a capital disguise, .by the way-took his place in the boat. I accompanied Mr. Radford down to the boat when he left. He got in, saying good-bye to me, and the new hand shoved off and pulled across to the yacht as though to the manner born. Since that Mr. Radford has gone .Ashore again to his house, but, so far as I could make out by the gangway light, it was not the same hand. He managed it ,splendidly "Halloa I" cried Pudifin. "They're off!" The sound of oars in tholes came across the yrafcer. "Can you see?" asked Miss Torfrey. "Not v.-ry clearly." "There xpp-ears to me to be only one man in the Mat." "And mi to me. Good Heavens! If it -has been discovered!" The watchers still strained their eyes. The boat reached the side of the yacht. It re- gained fv moment or two, and then re- turned. What did it mean? Almost imme- diately aMrp words of command came like gunshots, -tnd the sound of the steam-winch raising the anchor. Within a few minutes it was clear, and the engines began to turn. The yacht immediately gathered speed, and in ten minutes was loat to view around the point. "The voyage is begun, said Pudifin. "I wonder what it will bring forth?" As he spoke, a streak of light shot up from the opposite hill. "A rocket—a signal!" he cried. The point of fire ascended high, and burst into a red star; a second and a third followed. From seaward came a flight of three sockets in reply. "It's as good as the Crystal Palace," said Lucy, laughing. She was recovering some of her normal spirits. "Much better, Miss Torfrey: it shows us that there is something to back our opinion. Those signals import something that is not meant to be generally known." "But we have an envoy on board who will discover it," said Lucy. "And now, good night. There's nothing more to be done till the detective arrives, I think?" "You've forgotten Polly's victim. What are we to do with him?" "Good gracious!—yes, I had forgotten. It would be a good notion to take him somewhere a dozen miles away and lose him —that is if he's sufficiently dense to his sur- roundings. He would never be able to tell ? ?herent story." t^A capital notion," Lucy assented. "But .Who can do it? I dare not go now. Mat -would Want to know things." P„1-fi Was heartened by her change of mood "Can you rely on Polly's secrecy?" he "Perfectly." "Then I will do it. Don't disturb any- body. I'll have your pony and the little dogcart. I know where to find both. I'll hitch him in while you see about the man. If I drove a dozen miles and dropped him on the edge of the moor, I expect we should hear no more of him." "Will you do it, Mr. PudifinT You are good. A day or two ago I thought I hadn't a friend in the world, and now I have two noble friends." "Don't thank me, please," said Pudifin, a little huskily. "Go and get the other ser- vants out of the way." Ten minutes after, Pudifin and Polly were yard!* ine an insensible form across the dragl They heaved him into the bottom of the little dog-cart, and covered him with a horse-cloth. Pudifin borrowed a big coat and exchanged his felt hat for a cap. Polly shut the gates behind him as lie drove out. Driving by winding lanes to avoid the village, he crested the first range of hills, and went quietly down into the first inland valley. Knowing the country well, he went through by-roads, missing populated places, and came out on the London highway at a point where it was altogether devoid of any settlement and quite close to the southern fringe of Dartmoor. It was nearly mid- night, and he was ten miles from St. Maurice. He took a narrow lane. almost grass-grown, and trending up to the edge of the uncultivated heath, and emerged 'Upon a cart track across the common under Uerrow Be aeon. His man was still in a heavy, drunken sleep. Pudifin turned to look at him once or twice as he drove across the tnoor till he reached a hollow that had once been a sandpit. Then he hauled him out of 'the trap, and dropped him in a bunch of foracxt-n, quickly turned the pony's head, t.ad returned the way he had come. When he reached the main road he de- cided that there was not much chance of an awkward encounter at that time of night, and took the nearer and the better route 1-ome, driving a mile or two to the east bc- fore he tmned into the parish roads leading to the coast. He had almost reached the cross where he "17a6 to diverge when he heard a humming Eouud, rapidly increasing in strength—evi- dently the noise of a motor. There was a glare of lamps, and a car suddenly turned e corner which Pudifin was about to nego- hte, and came into view, slowing down ■hen the dogcart was perceived. !11 Pardon me," said a voice from the black- cas behind the glare of lamps. At the sound of that voice, Pudifin sank kis face deeply in the collar of his borrowed a "Pardon me, is this the road to West- port ? "Straight on," said Pudifin, gruffly. A word was given, the car leapt forwaxd past him, and went down the road at a groat pace. do," said the curate to himself as he looked after it, "that is the steam yacht Mr. Radford travels in, and that is the. route to the Mediterranean. I wonder whether the pyrotechnical display we saw this even- ing had anything to do with it?" Lucy Torfrey's pony took him home at a jog-trot, and he found Polly waiting to un- bar the door of the yard for him. The owner of the Torfrey estates, whose affair was thus being regulated for him by his two good friends, rose early the next morning in order to be prepared for the re- ception of the detective who was coming down to investigate the several mysteries that passed the wit of the local police. But Lucy was before him, and was at the break- fast table already, looking through the post as usual. "Any letters for me? asked Torfrey. He seemed brighter now that help was at hand. "Yes, Mat; there's one, blue and official- looking, from London. I expect it's about the detective." She passed it over. "By" Jove!" exclaimed Torfrey, as he read it. "The man was to be at the station at seven o'clock this morning. He travelled by the night train, and there's nobody to meet him, of, course. I wonder what he'll do? Kick his heels there? Had we better send?" "Wouldn't it be a good idea to go your- self?" asked Lucy. "If you met him on the way you would be able to have a good quiet chat and tell him all there s to tell." "Yes, I think I will, and get it over. I vant to go to Haylands thie afternoon. I particularly promised." "Here's a letter—I think in Mr. Hay- land's hand," said Lucy. Torfrey tore it open and frowned at it. "What's the matter, Mat?" "Oh, a confounded nuisance! Hayland says he's got somebody coming to-day—son of an old friend of his, who has just landed tt Westport from America. Wants me to be sure to turn up and help to welcome him as a stranger. Hang the stranger!" "I perfectly appreciate Jour; feelings, Mat," said Lucy. "But you will have to go." "Of course I shall go. I promised Mar- garet but I don't quite fancy myself in the capacity of bear-leader." "What about driving to the station, Lucy?" her brother asked presently. "Your little cart and the pony would be handiest." Lucy made haste to affirm that the pony had gone lame aad the near wheel of the cart was loose. "Take Charles and the brougham, Mat. You'll wan, all your attention for conversa- tion on the way back, without the distrac- tion of driving." Torfrey had set out upon his journey when the curate called at the Villa Zamora. "Well, Mr. Pudifin," said Lucy. "I hear you were out late last night." "Do you? Does anybody else?" "No, I think not. Where did you drop him?" "In a little brake under Berrow Beacon.' "Then he's safe not to bother us for a day or two, if he finds his way back at all. He'll never know how he got there." "In the meantime, I have news." "What is it now?" asked Lucy, all agog. Pudifin related the adventure of his meet- ing with the motor-car, his recognition of the voice, and the inquiry he answered from the recesses of his coat collar. "What do you think of the old gentleman now?" he asked. cI My suspicions are confirmed, that is all. But it seems a waste of Mr. Hoskings' valu- able time to have him on board the yacht if Radford is not there." "Oh, I don't know," said the curate. "We may trust Dick not to waste his time. De- pend upon him to get some information worth having, but there does not seem to be much to be done here." Torfrey saw nothing of the detective on his way to Moss Bridge Station, and had walked once up the platform before seeing anybody who would answer to his notion of such 81 ipersonage, when a tall man of mili- tary appearance suddenly appeared and said to him: "Mr. Torfrey, I think?" "Yes," said Torfrey, "and you, I believe, from London and waiting to see me." "You have the habit of divining, I see, Mr. Torfrey," said the man with a bow. "T have been waiting here, thinking you would come, or I should have taken a carriage and driven down to your place." "I have a carriage waiting. Come along; we shall be in time for a late lunch, and we can talk as we go." "How far to the Villa Zamora?" "A good ten miles; about two hours on these roads." "Are there any developments since your letter? "None at all." "Any visitors just now?" "None at all. Mr. Radford left in his yacht last night for the Mediterranean. The curate's friend, Dr. Hoskings, was here, but he also was suddenly called away last night, too." All," said his companion, "that's a pity. I should have ;ked to hear what the doctor had to say. Do yo. know where he can be found ?" At Westport. He is in practice there." Good. Let me send a telegram before we start, and ask that the reply be sent to the Villa Zamora; it should be there by the time we arrive." Why do you make such a point about Hoskings? He's only a casual visitor." "Yes, but he happened to be here at the time of the attack upon your man-and he's a friend of the curate." As you please," said Torfrey. It was nearly two o'clock when they pulled up 1 under the porch of the house. You'll have some lunch before we go on with the business," said Torfrey. I'm sorry that an engagement which I must keep will take me out this afternoon. But my sister will be here, and you can see the curate, and Tom Gannett and Polly, and interrogate them. I hope you will not be long before you get some light." Oh, I shall get to work immediately after lunch. But first, is there any answer to the telegram ?'' Lucy was introduced to him. Mr. Fran k Denson was the name he declared. Ho eyed the girl with evident admiration, and regarded her with close attention while listening to her sallies. "Miss Torfrey will be very useful to me, I can see," said he. "Does it happen that a telegram has come for me, Miss Torfrey?" "Yes," said she. "It has been a great tor- ment to my overwhelming curiosity for half an hour. I think I should have opened it out of sheer pique if you had not come very Boon. "Oh, it is merely an auswer to a tele- gram sent to Dr. Hoskings at Westport, asking him to make it convenient to come here and see me as soon as possible," said Mr. Benson. "Oh!" Lucy exclaimed, "Dr. Hoskings?" The detective broke the envelope and ran his eye over the pink slip. He frowned a little. "This is a pity," said he, "and rather: strange. You said, I think, that he re- turned to Westport last evening?" "Yes," replied Torfrey. "Pudifin said he was called back suddenly. Why?" "Read it," said the detective. Torfrey took the message and read: Dr. Hoskings not at home. At. Mr. Pudifin'e, Saint Maurice. Not known when expected." "But Pudifin distinctly told me that he went back last eveuing," said Torfrey, hold- ing the slip in his hand. "Very unfortunate, and rather strange," said the detective. "Well, we must see Mr. Pudifin, and find out what really Happened." "I have had lunch," said Lucy. "I can go and see Mr. Pudifin while you have yours. "On no account, Miss Torfrey," the detec- tive exclaimed, lr~viedly. Don't trouble; there's plenty of time, and 1 must see Mr. Pudifin myself." "Very well, then, I'll send up a message for him," said she, and left the room. Lucy walked straight to the village, and found Pudifin busy. His eyes opened wide when she told him the cause of her visit. "This detective man is likely, you see, to prove a little awkward," said she. "So I perceive. I will go down with you. We must see how the land lies, and, if it seems necessary, make a clean breast of it to him." When they reached the house, Torfrey was ready to start for Haylands and they were soon left alone with Mr. Benson. He closely examined Pudifin about the details of Tom Gannett's story, and the time of Hoskings' departure on the previous day. "I must tell you something," said the curate when this point of the story was reached. "From the first Miss Torfrey and I have had suspicions about this matter which it was of no use to mention to Mr. Torfrey, not only because he would not have believed in them, but also because he would have refused us permission to do what we have done." "Yes," said Mr. Benson. "It did not take me long to see that you had been doing a little as amateurs." "Well, it comes to that, but I don't think you'll say we've done badly." "Of course," said Mr. Benson, "the mys- terious disappearance of Dr. Hoskings is a part of it. Miss Torfrey's face told me that." "Well, never mind," Pudifin resumed. "We had some reason to suspect, on putting two and two together, that these affairs had something to do with the presence of Mr. Radford in the neighbourhood. Nobody knows anything about Mr. Radford, except that he appears to be immensely rich. No- thing happened to anybody till Mr. Radford ca.me here. There are other things, too; we notice his strong and strange influence over Mr. Torfrey. We see that his move- ments are mysterious and do not coincide with his announcements always. For in- stance, he was supposed to have sailed last night in his yacht for the Mediterranean, but he did not go; instead, he went in his motor -to Westport, so that while he is in pretence a hundred miles or so away, he is really close at hand." Mr. Benson listened closelv, and his frown deepened. "Go on," he said. "What about Hoskings ? "Hoskings is on board the Castilian in disguise, representing our interests there." "Good heavens!" cried Benson, starting to his feet. Then he eat d'own again with a laugh. "However did you manage to smuggle him on board?" Pudifin told the story. "Well," Benson said, in comment upon it, "you have taken the law into your own hands with a vengeance; but I don't know that it was altogether a bad idea." "Don't you?" said the curate. "I'm glad you approve it. You think there is some- thing in our suspicions? "Oh, I can't say at all yet. We have not cone far enough into the matter. Give me tjfie afternoon to prowl about in my own "'ay, and don't say anything to anybody as to my identity. You are sure that the man in the motor last night was Radford, and that he asked to be directed to Westport?" "Perfectly certain." "And he did not recognise you?" "Probably not. The incident lasted but a fiteond." I "Then I will send a wire to Westport. We shall probably find out something there. I shall find my own way up to the village." Mr. Benson went up to St. Maurice that afternoon and sent a telegram. Then he went to Mra. Ross's to have a talk with Tom Gannett. CHAPTER VII. IN WHICH MR. WILTON APPBAM. Torfrey rode hotspur to Haylands. He had not seen Margaret for two or three days, and his lover's impulse was to throw all the trouble at the Villa Zamora far be- hind him and devote himself to the prose- cution of his court. He was to have a thoroughly enjoyable time with his lady-love, having diplomatic- ally got rid of old Hayland and his visitor at the earliest possible moment. But luck was against him. He found the trio walk- ing on the terrace, listening with all their ears to the voluble discourse of a young man of about twenty-five, swart and handsome, with brilliant black eves and mobile fea- tures. He wasaruri?'g forth a torrent of anecdote and adventure. Torfrey joined ,n -i-ec d ote and Torfrey joined the party, and was compelled to become a listener in spite of himself. Torfrey in his heart cursed the fellow, long and deep and often. He was con- foundedly eloquent. He had been every- where and seen everything: he could talk well of people, places, and events. Even Torfrey himself had to admit that his man- ner was unexceptionable. But Margaret was devouring his very words. "I love adventure," she said. "It is the. proper metier of a man. Men are fortunate; such an advantage as they hold over us stay-at-homes." Wilton rattled on at a great rate, with flying stories of wild rides on the pampas, of nights in the mining camps of Mexico, of the vast distances, the thrilling scenery of the Western Continent, of the making and the losing of fortunes in out-of-the-way en- terprises. He himself had doubled with a single stroke the fortune his father had given him, and was, as things went in Eng- land, a very rich man. Now he was come back to enjoy the delights of civilisation for a space. He did not know how long they would content him. "Your father,' said old Hayland, "was always a lover of adventure. You inherit that from him. And he died, as he had lived, in the wilds?" "Yes—away in Mexico. Do you remember when he left England?" "Yes. It must be nearly thirty—no, more than thirty years ago. I should judge you to be nearly thirty." "Alas, yes," said Wilton. "And he did not marry in England. I had not seen much of him for a few years. But he came down here before he went abroad. It was in my father's time. He was a wild lot—pardon me, no; but he had some hot blood. Wasn't he a collateral relative of the Gomez people that used to live down near Torfrey's place?" "What I exclaimed Torfrey—and ceased suddenly. His voice had sounded like a gun shot. t "I never heard the name," said Wilton. "I expect not." And he turned to talk of the big game in the Rockies. When he had spoken for three minutes, the little sports of England seemed very little indeed. By de- grees, Torfrey grew angrier with Wilton, und more ill at ease. He felt that he did cot appear at an advantage. At dinner he was almost silent. Mar- garet was piqued, and reserved her emiles and her talk for Mr. Wilton. Torfrey ex. cused himself early. She went with him into the hall while he waited for his horse to be brought round. 11 u are out of sorts, Mat," she said. ??at M it? "Oh, nothing. I'm worried a bit, that's all." 0' "You are as cordial as a bear with a sore head." "I feel a bit in the way," said Torfrey, hotly. "What can you mean?" T) "Nothing, Margaret—if you can't see it- Don't let my petty affairs trouble you. There are bigger things to be talked about more finely than I can talk." "Why, Mat! I believe you're jealous!" "Absurd idea! What should I be jealous about? Is not all your graciousness re- served for me? Am I not the first and the last man in your thoughts? I have ample proof of it." "You need not be rude, at any rate," she said. "Of course not. Was I rud'e? I thought I had been assisting in snuffing myself out in the politest way in the world." "You are absolutely unreasonable, Mat. You have hardly had a civil word for any- body since you came." "Upon my soul, Margaret! This is a bit too much. I have, indeed, been de trop all day; I have hardly had a chance to say a word of any sort. I was never so delibe- rately insulted in my life as by this precious Nimrod your father lias inflicted on me." Torfrey's voice rose in anger. "I think we had better say good-night," said Margaret. "I can't fairly hear you- speak like this about my father's guest auc1 the son of his old friend." "If you think so, good-night. I can wait for my horse." He turned from her in his passman. and: walked out of the house and roura to. the.- stables. Margaret's eyes were bright and her face was flushed when she returned to the -iraw. ing-room to wait for her father and Mr. Wilton. The younger man admired her drawing-room,, lightly touched the keys of her pianos begged her to play to him, and at length consented to sing if she would accompany hiimr though, as he said, his voice had been more attuned to the bois- terous choru& of the mining camp than to the needs of the drawing-room. Yet he sang: sentimental songs in a light tenor with great expression the while Tor. frey savagely spurred his horse back over the hills to the mouth of the Aune. He was in a, (vicious temper, and Tented it on his horse. When he got in, he found his sister wait- ing up for him. He was cross and rude, even to Lucy, for her inquiries touched him in a sore place. Mat! she said, "what's the matter with you? Something has happened, Mat? Never mind; I won't worry you. I waited up to tell you that we put your detective in possession of all the information we oould. He went out to make inquiries, and has not turned up since." Hang the detective!" Very well, Mat. Just as you like. You engaged him, you know. But I think he's Dot the only man you want to hang." I don't care if I never see him again. 1*11 send him away to-morrow." But Mr. Radford told you. that expert advice was necessary." Hang Mr. Radford!" Most willingly, Mat. But it was you who took his advioe." "Look here, Lucy, I'm not fit. Don't talk to me to-night." Yes I will, Mat. I'll talk you fit again. What has gone wrong? A mere lovers' quarrel, I can see. You have probably fail-en out with Margaret, and think the world, is coming to an end, whereas she is proba-bly waiting for a kiss from you to set the universe on its legs again." You are wrong, Lucy. It's all over." "So I am right, then? It it a quarrel." She burst into merry laughter. "You quiet men! you are so terrible when you're roused. And-you do make such huge moun- tains out of such diminutive molehills." "I wish to heaven I could think that, Lucy." So you may. Go to bed. Sleep over it. The mountain will have subsided in the morning." if I think I will," said Torfrey, and went. Lucy remained in the library. She was not sleepy, but very thoughtful. Cheerfully as she talked to her brother, her gaiety was assumed. There was a shadow in her path as well, the shadow of a mountain of sus- picion. She recalled what she had said to Hoskings: she repeated the prayer-God grant that what might be discovered might not wreck her own happiness while it rescued her brother. She was restless and unquiet in spirit, scenting fresh dangers and fresh troubles. Where was Diego? She heard from him irregularly; but why did his absence ex- tend itself like this? "I've got the nerves," she said to herself. "I'll go out into the air and try to get some of these cobwebs blown away." She found a cloak in the hall, and let herself put on the terrace. She had taken two or three turns up and down in front cf the house when her attention was arrested by what she thought to be the sound of voices. Lucy stopped and listened intently. In a moment or two she was sure that the sound of voices was borne to her down the wind. It seemed to her that they came from the direction of the woods away to the left. Then the sound faded away. Her first impulse was to get into the house and bar the door; but she argued with herself that it was- a weak and girlish impulse; she did not like to be weak and girlish. If there were more mysteries in the making, it behoved her to find out what they were. Picking up her courage in both hands, she stole along by the wall of the great garden towards the woods, and then along the edge of the copse. She entered upon the'narrow path that led to the Torfrey shrine, going as quietly and as rapidly as she could from corner to corner. She started nervously when, turning the bend that brought her in sight of the little building, she saw that there was a light shining through the painted windows. Here was some strange business afoot—business, it might be, desperate. She hesitated, first suggesting to herself that it might be wise to go back to the house and call Martin. Again her curiosity conquered; she would at any rate try to discover who was in the I chapel at midnight, if she could do nothing else. Keeping close to the thicket, she advanced towards the clearing and peered across it, her heart beating fast with excitement. There was no movement, no sign of the pre- sence of any person in the environs of the chapel, nothing but the lights in the win- dows and the murmur of voices within. Was she within reach of the heart of the mystery? She took a long breath and ran sharply across the grass to the shadow of the wall. Looking round from that refuge of shadow she could see nothing but the gleaming of the light upon the 0 grass and upon the branches of the nearer trees and shrubs. The low murmur of voices drowned the night noises of the wood. She placed her ear against the wall and listened. There were two or three voices in conver- sation. She could detect nothing in detail, but the timbre of one voice seemed familiar. She shuddered, and a thousand thoughts dashed into her mind. In a frenzy of haste she raised herself by the projecting masonry, and looked in at one of the lights of the window. The interior waw-brightly lit, but objects within were only dimly discerned through the coloured glass. She perceived the forms of two or three men moving about. As she looked, she heard a low whistle, and dropped from her perch. Before she could turn, she was eeized from behind, a gag was placed over her mouth and drawn tight so that she could not utter a cry. Instantly, a bandage was tied over her eyes, and her hands were bound. She was powerless either to move or to cry. She was lifted in the arms of two men, and could distinguish that other men were around talking in whispers. She was carried rapidlv away—in what direction she did not know. Her enemy had been crafty. She had incautiously surprised them: she was paying the penalty. Only two sentences were said in her hearing, and those not in English. Por donde? Por la playa." Presently the men walked more slowly, and with evident difficulty. She could smell the sea air and could feel the fresh wind on her face; she could hear the rippling of the water. In ten minutes they began a steep ascent. Then they stopped, then proceeded a few steps further, and she was laid on the ground. The air was now cold and vault-like. Even when her bearers went away and left her lying on the ground, Lucy's sensation was not so much of fear as of horror and in- dignation, despair, and wonder. For she had recognised the voice of the man who gave for answer to a question the command: II Por la playa (To be Continued.)
Although not referred to in the special report from the Select Committee on Naval and Military Services (Pensions and Grants), it is intended (says the Chancellor of the Exchequer, in reply to a question) to continue the grants of London allowance for Jrent. Emile Jules Dupuis, the Belgian professor of languages who communicated to Miss. Ruby May Davis, a schoolmistress, informa- tion obtained by Mm while employed as an examiner of letters in the Censor's depart- menft, has been sentenced to twelve months* hard! labour at the Old Bailey.,
I WOUNDED AT BLENHEIM. Blenheim Palace, the historic residence of the Duke of Mailborough, is now a hospital for wounded soldiers. The palace was built to commemorate the victories of the first Duke of Marlborough, and it is appropriate that it should once more be associated with an army which is winning glory in Flanders. The present duke, who is himself on active service, takes the warmest personal interest in his guests, and has made them free of the place. The photograph shows a game of football on the great lawn.
THE RED CROSS. I The number of motor vehicles now engaged in Red Cross work at the froDt is already large, but many more are needed. At Buckingham Palace the King has inspected a number of cars and vans provided by the British Ambulance Committee. The vehicles are seen passing through the great gates of the palace.
BERLIN WOOL COLLECTORS. 0 Thanks to the British Navy, Germany is running short of many things which she badly needs. She is husbanding her resources in every possible way. Among other things there is a shortage of wool for clothing. Numbers of youths go about with handcarts collecting woollen articles of all kinds. In the photograph a contingent is shown returning with the result of a day's work.
CONTRABAND. ) CONTRABAND. 1 War which brings such widespread dis- aster and loss to the ordinary trader comes laden with gold to some. Out of the war months, fraught ah such suffering and ruin to the gdHfal community, there emerge individuals who have in that time flourished exceedingly. At the present time huge fortunes are being made by the professional trader in contraband. These goods are the goods that a nation at war is most particularly in need of, and that the nation it is at war with is most deter- mined it shall not get it it can prevent it. By international agreement cargoes are divided into three classes—absolute contra- band, including cargoes of military equip- and war material; conditional contraband, or cargoes that a nation at war with another announces it will regard as contra- band and liable to seizure; and innocent cargoes, such as raw materials of manu- facture. Since the war broke out Britain and Germany have declared a number of unexpected cargoes conditional contraband. Only a few weeks ago Germany declared it would regard all cargoes of timber con- signed to Britain as contraband. The ordinary merchant may thus find himself a carrier of contraband cargo if he pursues his ordiiary business.
THE COST OF SHELLS. I The cost of ammunition is a tremendous drain on the war-chests of fighting nations, for the latest pattern naval and militarv guns have to be fedtvith shells which each cost hundreds of pounds. The type of shell which ir; fired from the great German howitzers cost 91,200, and this amount is expended every time the weapon hurls a projectiles at the Allies. Even the com- paratively small field-guns are loaded with shells which each cost over X2 to produce. The German 8.4in. quick firing guns demand a shell which costs .£52, and the Kaiser's fortrees cannons fire a projectile valued at < £ 300. The cost of gunfire in the Royal Navy is very heavy, and a single discharge from one of our guns of the heaviest calibre, such as a 13in. weapon, costs at least .£800, A battleship broad- side means that Y.1,500 worth of ammuni- tion is sent speeding towards the enemy. In a sea fight, if the large guns on a Dread- nought only fire ten shots each and the smaller weapons discharge twenty five shells, the cost of ammunition for one battleship during the engagement is £ 160,000.
Captain J. A. Unett, D.S.O., chief con- stable of Preston,, has been appointed chief constable of Essex. Colonel Siz Etfcraund Antrobus, owner of Stonehengei. has died at Amesbury Abbey, his Wiltakisfe residence, at the age of &ixty- beven. M. Ghenadieff, the Bulgarian statesman, in an interview with the Rome correspon- dent of the "Journal," (Paris) said he hoped that Roumania would shortly come to an understanding with Bulgaria to induce Serbia to cede i portion of Macedonia to Bulgaria, in spite of the pressure to the contrary which Greece had brought to bear on Serbia. People who send parcels for the benefit of men interned at Groningen, Holland, are advised, with a view to the proper distribu- tion of the articles, to address them to the commanding officer of the camp. The Amsterdam "Telegraaf says that at Hasselt over 1,300 young Belgians were ar- rested for trying to escape to Holland. Twenty-five men were shot for making a similar attempt elsewhve-
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