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CHAPTER X XX. Gerald could not sleep that night; yet a nightmare of horror oppressed him during the long hours that passed before the gray dswn came. lle fancied he heard stealthy lootltepe in the room underneath, and three times he roamed the whole length of the floor below, from inner salon to outhouse, hunting, listening. with his gun in his hand ; but there was no uign of an intruder‘e pres- ence. As he passed Peggy’s door on his way back to his room. he listened, but could hea_r nothing, stud-he hoped: she w.“ or shortly, “I can't pretend to understand this young lady at all. After accepting the attentions of one of the ver nicest gentle- menâ€"for a Frenchmanâ€"w om I have ever met, and becoming engaged to him, she sud- denly runs away, stays away more than a fortnightâ€"as I daresay you have heardâ€"- and is brought back by that odious Smith, who seems quite a friend of hers. This freak affected poor Mr. Beresford very seri- ously as you may imagine. The day before she returned he was so ill and so heart-bro- ken that he shut himself up it. his room and would not see even me. Well, she behaves now as if she was the injured parson, and when I told her this morning that M. Vie for Fournier was coming here to-day and Mr. Beresford hoped she would receive him oourteously, she laughed in my face, and said in quite a wild hysterical way that M. Fouruier was very good, and that she was afraid she would not be found worthy of the honor of being sold to him My own belief, Gerald, is that she has picked up some ragged admirer or other of her old wandering days during this fortnight that she :has been awayâ€"‘ with friends of her mother's,’ so she says ” “ Very likely," said he, in a stifled voice. He was longing to go in search of her, his very heart was bleeding at the thought of the cruel Wounds he had inflicted upon her the night before. ouusu "61" uuuuus, uuu nu uvyvu. vuv .. â€".. “loop. He was filled with remorse for the cruel repulse he had given in spite of him. self to her loving welcome, and he made up his mind that nothing should prevent his making umends on the marrow. But when he came down to breakfast no one was in the sullen-manger but Miss M’Leod, who was quite enthusiastically glad to see him, and who hopped and chirped about him so persistently that for some time he got no change gisshing {pr feggy. . _ “‘77); HES Beaufort] hBE'had her break fast, and gone out. wandoxing somewhere among the garcmzea, I sup one,” she answered rath- All clan-OI" H I n;n f. I run-nil I'n underntand “I don’t know what wicked spirit hls pomssed the girls of this place lately,” she chirpsd on as he gulped down his breakfast. “ Perhaps you remember that the daughter of Monuier the game-keeper disappeared from her father's cottage month ago in what I cannot help calling a mysterious manner. It is not that I wish to he un- chsritablo~evorybody knows I am the last person in the world who could be accused of talking scandalâ€"but I must say it was a. strange thing to send her out (0 service, when the cottage and garden have gone to rack and ruin ever since; and now, if you please,_she's come hack again, andâ€"” . .». “ Babette come bAck !"’ interrupted Ger- ald with eager interest, which contrasted unfavorably with the half‘denf attention he‘lggd giygu t9 t_he first pay}: of her speech. Miss M’Leod fived he:Z light eyes' upon him in a. manner which“: him biushing. and drew her small figure up “w. rigid atatelineea. “ Yes," she said with a snap. “When Jeannette brou ht the milk this morning, she said she be met Bsbette, very smartly dressed, coming from Cglaia between eight “Isl nine o'clock.“ “ Pray don't let me detain you it you are anxious to be among the first to welcome the youu person back.” “ Than you," said Gerald. And, to Miss M'Leod’s great disgust, he got up hastily and left the room. Babette must have come on the truck of De Breteuil, he thought, and he was most anxious to see her and learn what she knew. But another wish outweighed everything else in his mind, and as he snatched his cap from the primi- tive row of mahogan pegs in the hall which served as a hatetau , and dashed through the hall-door and out into the courtyard, it was to go in search, not of Babette, but of Peg y. \ here should he 0? Along the grass- path to the right, w ich led through the plantation and the potato-fields to the high~ est sand-hills? Or through the garden at the other side of the houseâ€"the question which was the front and which the back of the building had never been decidedâ€"to the rickety wooden bench under the willo - tree? Or straight across the white san y paths of the kitchen-garden, where the square beds were bright with the blossom of the fruit-trees? Out beyond, the wood sur- rounded this garden on three (sides, and there was a favorite corner of 1’s gy's where a stream ran under the trees an was cross- ed by a plank ; it was to this spot that Ger- ald first made his way. She was not there ; so he crossed the stream and the field be- yond, where an old norse was grazing, and got over the rotten paling on to the lesser sand-hills, which stretched away down to the sea, covered with a short_growth of GUM-i looked at his watch; it was a- quarter to by. Miss M' Leod Glenna her throat and said acidlv: ah grass, and with reeds and tune and ‘ suo tiny flowers as row in sandy soils. They were honey-com d with rabbit-wan rens, and bare of a single tree. and the winter seas dashed over them, and every wind that blew swept up the sand in clouds and choked up the reed-growth in some parts and laid bare its roots in others. It was a dreary, barren Waste; the roofs and walls of Calais and the old pier stretching out into the sea formed one long, irregular gray line that bounded but did not break the monotonous view. The tide was out this morning, and a bleak ex anse of flat sand, darker than that of the ills, lay be- tween them and the white foamy edge of the. sen It was here that Gerald found l‘e gy, atandin Mono on one of the highest o the low nan! y mounds, lookin out to sea. With his heart thumpin like t at of a schoolboy about to be inuo< used to tho lady who has inapilcd his first romance-fed mission, in.“ I ,, ll; IA-‘AI.A_, a Jny of remorse for hiainvoluntary cruelty a? the night before, Gerald came near her very softly, and put his arm tound her be. fore she ind heard his fooutepn. She gave HEAT SECRET. SHALL IT OR, a wild, hysterlesl shriek and tried to push him away; but he was too strong for her, and he held her to him, seeing in her fright. encd eyes that if he once loosened his clasp, she Would be away like the wind, over the hills and out of thefresoh alike of swuments end kisses. For his love oeme bJOk, in a tux-ant of frantic self-reproach, as he looked into the and little frightened face and felt the touch of her fragile Whine fingers as she tried in vain to Bush him off. BE DONE. “ Let me go, .0 ! let me go ! You have broken my heart !" she qusvered out, sud. denly ceasing her struggles like a csptured bird, and turning her head away to avoid looking into his face. The tears rushed to Gerald’s eyes. “ Peggy, for pity’s sukelisteu to me. Don't you love me any more ? Peggy, if you knew what I have eutfered since I saw you, you would pity me, you would indeed," said he, drawing her to him, caressing her, hold- ing her head against his shoulder. But she would or could give no response to his rising tenderness, and as be pressed his lips upon hers she drew her head sway and burst into tears. “Don’t, 'don’t kiss me; you don’t love me, you only married me out of pity ! 0, I am sormiisergblq; lay me go." gave up struggling, and as he did not at- tempt to put It. round her again she took his right hand in hers, and played with his fingers while ghe_looked up in'hia face. “ My darling, no, no, no.1 married you because I loved y;ou because you are the liglllt of my horrible life,” said he passion atgy. _ , She flung her arms round his neck, look- ing up into his face with earnestness which made her eyes holy and sweet, until she seemed to Gerald an angel sent to comfort him in his misery. “ You mean that 2 Do you mean that?" she whispered. “I know you are unhappy, I think on have things to dis- tress you that I don't Know anything about ; I’m afraid so. I don’t want you to tell me them ; you are my husband, you know best what I ought to know, and you must not think I want to pry into your secrets. But let me comfort you without knowing them I let me sit by you and listen, as I used to do in London. I won’t be tiresome and tyran- nical now, as I was then. I was ill then. you know I was ill, don't you 2" she insisted earnestly, as Gerald turned his head away from her. He ressed her little hands close to her neck wit out answering. She went on : “ I’m quite well now, and I will do just as you please. But don’t, don’t turn from me again as you did last night. as ifâ€"almost as if you couldn’t bear the sight of me.” He tried to stop her, but his voice broke, as she continued. “ I thought. 0 Gerald ! I know it was silly, but I’couldn’t help itâ€"thatl had done something wrong, something to make you unhappy. And I have been crying half the night, wandering what it wasâ€"71' He looked at her in tel-For. \Vhat did she know? luvoluntarily he relaxed his clasp so that she would have found no difficulty in escaping had she still wished it. But when his arms fell down from heriyeist, she r‘Gomld, is it true? marry me out of pity ?" tively. “My (18.1 hug, my sweet little wife, how could you think such a thing?" “ You don't know Gerald how you looked as you rushed past meâ€"as if my face had been that of some one you hated. I couldn’t help making myself lniaornhle by thinking “-J-ma de Lancry had already mean you Sorry-Kyou lnul’iod mo apdâ€"n “ Peggy, stop !” said Gerald gravely. " I have scarcely been in my right. mind since I left you : I was half-mad last night. You must forgive my strange manner to you, and forget all about it. And if I keep some secrets from you for a. little while you must not mindâ€"" “ I don’t want your confidence, I want your love," she burst out passionately. " Everybody's always trusted me, but no- hody’s ever loved me like you. You may look up your letters, you may talk to me as you would a. dog : I want your love, Gerald, I want your love: I can't rest, when you are away, without something you have touched in my hand; I am thirsty for the sound of your voice ; I could die quite eas- ily ii by my_dea§th you could he hapgierf" “Ah, you don’t believe me. Nobody ever really believes that one person could die for another. But listen, Gerald. I've had an awfully hard life, and if it were not for you, I shouldn’t cure to have any m ore of it. And youâ€"poor boy. ou’ve had a hard time of it too. An if I were really to see, as I almost thought I saw last night, that by marrying me you had brou ht some freah trouble upon youâ€"I ahoul n’f. any anythinf about it to you or to anybody, but I ahou d 'uat jump into the son and make an end 0 it." " Peggy, for heaven’s sake don't talk like that,” cried Gerald. as he held her clasped in his arms, and gazed through a. gathering mist in his eyes down on to her upturned face as ehe_loqke(_l dreqmily_pp at him. _ _ Shc suddenly drew hcra'elf hp, passed her hagd slowly over her eyes laughing to her- self. She had turned in his arms, and was look- ing out at tho foamy white waves with drea my eyes that seemed to see {or be 0nd the guy so}â€" -llne. Gerglq wu_ chillo _by her words, by the fanatical resolution in her lit- tle whim hoe. He turned her head with a tender but firm hand away from the m and towald his own_loving eyes. “ You are going to fonget all your sad hie and all your nervous fancies," said he, gent- ly. “ And very soon you are going away from this horrible lace with a husband who will viva all his ii 0 to working for you and making you happ ." She looked up into his gentle nray eyes on She'lo'oked u'p'fnto his gentle gray oycs an if trying to see the picture his words pro- acnpgflt Then [my face aqddenly qhgnggd. “\Vho was that man who cmn'm intonthe house late last night, Gerald 1" she asked abggptly. H; timed white and cold from head to foot. " Wasn't. it Mr. Smith 1'" he asked in a hoarse voice, which he evidently tried hard to control. “ Delphine mid it was." " No," said she, looking at him curiously. " \VhenI heard a ring, I thought it must be you. and I half-opened my dour and held it, 110 that I could peep out. as some one emue up the stairs. And it. was it man, in n travellin cloak like the one Mr. Smith wears. could see him in outline. you know, against the staircase Window behind him. But just so he got to the top he turn- - Did you only she asked plain- ed hi: head, and it wu not Mr. Smith. but 3 mm with 3 none like Victor Fournier’n." ” Like Victor's !” burst out Gerald. “ 0. it wasn’t he. Do you know who it woo. Gatalfl 2" ‘ > I A,_,,ILIA 11- v..â€"._ fie was in in state of intense and terrible excitement : she closed her eyes, and laid her head on his shoulder, A “ Ab, it is one of the things I am not to know. Very well. ” He bent his head and kissed her with twinkling “gs: I iIL_A, “ "égme wit}: me, my darling, he said ten derly y. " I haw to go yto Monuier’ a cottage, and I don' t want you t.) go 111- doors wibhour So they went hamLin-hand like children over thegarcnms and through the poplar avenue», at the entrance of which Gerald left her to wait for him. The gemekeeper's cottage was only a few hundred yards away. As Gerald came near, he was attuck with the sudden appear- ance of active life about the since, which seemed to have passed theperio of Bebette‘e absence in a state of suspended animation. The donkey. laden with a. couple of big bas- kets, was waiting at the gate. The lark, in its wicker cage. hung again outside the door. The chickens, banished by a. fresh fencing of furze from the garden, were con- tentedly scraping and flapping in the field at the side. But before he had gone through the ger- den gete, Gerald leumt thus this state of peace did not reign inside the cottage. Through tho open door came the voice of Monuier and his daughter in loud dispute. As Gerald had predicted to her during her miserable Paris life, now that she had re- tucned to the cottage, she could more then hold her own. Ever growl of remonetance in Monnier‘e grufl‘ vo ce was received with a volley of pajois in his daughter’s shrill treble. “ Just-when I am out o'f favor with lc pad ron you must needs go and of. me out of fa- vor yith mon§eigneur»al§o,‘ y yqur freaks.” " Well, and “31083 fault is it'that you are out of favor with M. Beresford? If you hadn’t gone and mixed yourself up with this monseignenr, as you call him, who is after all nothing but a. thief and a awindler, and perhaps a_murde.r6r tooâ€"fox: all I knowâ€"” . “ Sir-ah. you imprudent hussy, what are you wipe ?" “.' I, “ \\’ell,uyou know better than me. But I tell you I’ll have no more of it. This fine gentleman has brought ill-luck '.0 both of us, and you ought to be ashamed of your- self for having let; him inside the door ; I’d like to set. M. le Cure at you about it, that I would. But we'll have no more to do with him, understand that. I'll set his beast free this very night ; and what mischief he does must. fall on you:- bend, for?” She stopped. Gerald, who had been gently clearing his threat at the door to try and awaken them to the fact of his presence, here walked boldly in. Monnier, with a sinister look of alarm, disappeared into the back room. Babette, with sudden and most becoming shyness, hung her head ; whether entirely from shame at the position in which he had last seen her, or partly from humili~ ation at her altered surroundings, he did not know. “ O Babette, how do you do. "’ said he, as if she had never been aflafi. And he held out his hand, which she too just in the old shy manger: _ “Pigs all ri‘ awkward pquae. It was 5. happy inspiration, for it opened the floodgnt. a of Bsbette's eloquence. The pigeflereKa zero point iget_npw:_ VIBE! ‘1610 u D\;IV .IUIHtJ Jun!) LIV". “No, they' re not all right, ” she broke out indignantly. “ As if they could be all right with no looking after ! The biggest of the young ones has grabbed his way right through 113d“ the wgull, and he'd have had the fence own in another day. Of course he ought to have had a ring through his: nose. Anybody with any sense might have known than. "' She grew shy again. ‘The home coming to the simple pleasures and toils she natur- ally loved had brought into view the best part of her character. Her nature was too coarse, her relations were too ignorant, for her to feel keenly that the experience she had just gone through was a degradation; in- deed, her father hud plainly shown her that in his eyes the degradation lay in her return. But there had been Working vaguely in her mind some sort of better instinct, which would soon have been stifled had her life in Paris proved more to her taste, but which, as the case stood, was sufficiently strong to confirm her in her intention of leading an honest life for the future. “ Ah, there’s nobody like you to look after things, Babotgte." “ What made you come back so suddenly, Babette 2" “ Madame do Lancry." He started; but as he said nothing, she continued, after a pause . There was ailehce for a. few minutes. Then he ventured to ask : “She came to .see me last night, and‘ while she was there he came in; I don't‘ know what happened, for when I heard him coming I ran away and hid my- self. But a couple of hours later she came again and talked me into coming away With her, and we traveled all night, and I left her at the station this morning and came on here.” “ Then she is in Calais now I” " I suppose no." Gerald was hurrying tothe door. Sud- denly he stopped. “ Babette,’ he asked in a low‘voice, “ what was it you were saying when I came in, aheutâ€"abouta fieroe a_nirnal l” _‘;I\iinna, M. Geraid, I have told you enough,” said the, glancing around her with sudden (our. And sensing that she was resolved not. to open her mouth upon the subject, Gerald wished her good-bye and ran out of the cot- tage and down the road to where Peggy was waiting. "r‘lnfigégy. my darlin ," said he. laying his arm afl'ectionatoly on or shoulder, “ do on think you could wnlk all the way to Ca ala now, jun} up y_on are T" She 100de u surprised, but assented meekly at once, t on h she had nothing on he head but a gar on hat, and were no mantle and no gloves. Gerald gave her his arm and they etartcd witheut dqlny: He was going to appeal to Midmne de Lunery'a kindness of heart to shelter his poor little wife in the times of trouble and excite- ment which he formw at " Lee Boulemnx." Herald and Peggy trudged alon toward Calais side by side, both grave. 5i cut, and yet both feeling the old magnctlc‘hnpplnen in each other's looloty. ” Where are vou golng to take me to, CHAPTER X XXI. right 3" he asked, after an Gereld 2" she uked fluently, like a child. “ To Mudame de uory.’ Peggy looked Itertled, but reeolntely re- trained from proton. “ M. Victor Fournier will be disappoint ed when he call: at ‘ Len Boulenux' 60-day,” said (.‘crald. with evident satisfaction. ( Peggy laughed. “ 0. no,” she said sim- ply. " If my father thinks M. Victor still wishes to marry me he will be disappoint- ed. Iwrobe to him from England, telling him very plainl that I couldn’t ever be_ his w_i{9,_sn_ he wrote bsglg saying quite as plainly that he didn't wish nfe to be. it was a very long letter, tail of com- Kliments, but it was periestly clear. I think a must have became dissatisfied with my father's giving me no ‘ dot,’ or else he must think Mdlle. Eunestine'n will might be con- tested.” Gerald, who knew nothing of Madame de Laucry ’3 interview with Victor, and who con sidered Pegfiz' too love] for any man to be quite inuans is to her c arms, thought this interpretation rather too 03’ nicul; but at any rate it was satisfactory to know that \' ictor’ a withdrawn} made 9no_com_pi_ice}tion the i938. 0n arriving at: the Hotel de la Gare, Ger- ald was disappointed to find that Madame do Laucry was out. The General, hearing his voice, howovqr, _ran down stairs and was him. “ I cannot tell you when my wile will be in,” he said, somewhat uneasily. “ She took it into her head to leave Paris last night, and to come back here, bringing with us a strange young lady.very exeitable,and whose education appeared to have been neglected. We did not get here till half past eight, and new it is not three o’clock. and already she has gone out, without telling me what she was going for. I think I indulge her too much ; I am getting tired of being treated in this manner; and if madame does not return soon, and give me a full and reasonable account of her absence, I shall ret‘grn to Eerie this eveningâ€"alone."_ very demonstratively 30) ful to find that he pgdy brought the little English girl with With which awful threat, uttered with seriousness that appeared pathetic to Gerald, who fancied that his fli ht would concern Madame de Lancry very ittle, the General relaxed into his usual coruteous gentleness, and said humbly that he supposed he could do nothing for them; it was madame they wanted, not he. “ But': you can do something for us, if you will, monsieur," said Gerald eagerly. “ I came to ask Madame de Lancry if she would take care ofâ€"of my wife, while I goâ€"to busmeas." The old General was delighted to have an opportunity of showing kindness to anyone ; and though he was at first rather disturbed at hearing that Peggy was the young man’s wife, as his experience of the matrimonial bond was that it left its contractors a great deal too much liberty, he consoled himself by thinking that perhaps, since Gerald was in the first blush of the honeymoon, his business with Madame de Lancry would be more drier and more practical than flirta- tion. “ Come upstairs.” he said eagerly. “ I will take care of Madame Stannton quite asgellfis my vyjfe cgulgi do.” A_ The long walk and the emotions of the morning had tired Peggy so much that she frightened both gentlemen by fainting as soon as she reached the sltting-room. Her young husband therefore found it impos- sible to leave her, even when she regained consciousness ; and as the old General, with along sigh of envy at their happiness, left them together after Peggy had been made to eat and drink, the afternoon‘faded into evening while Gerald still ant by the sofa on which his young wife lay. During all those hours Madame de Lancry did not return. At last, as the clock struck six, the General 051,150 back into the sittingrcom, in a state 01 3 arm at his wife's long absence, which caused the younger man to start up, asham- of hi_s 0Y9 forgetfulnesa. And, not noticing the dismay on the Gen eral's face at this confident announcement, he pressed his wife’s hand silently, wished them both goodzbye ”and left_ she. hotel f9; " I will go and look for her. monsieur, " be said hurriedly ; “ I think I shall be able to find her. " “ Les Bouleaux" as fast as his feet could} carry him. The walk was not a long one,‘ now that he was alone; the oloom which had pervaded his thou hts lately had been so much raised by the appy hours he had just spent with Peggy that the awful associa- tions of the road had now little power over him, and it was with a great shock that he saw on the road, just as he came in sight of the entrance to the poplar, a band of police walking in that direction. For a moment his heart stood still as he watched them :llhe next, he saw that they were pass- ing _the avenueand going straight along the l vac-u- In an instant he guessed that they must be going to Monnior'e cottage ; for the game keeper he did not care, but would poor Babette, on her return to innocent life, be dragged into this afl'air’. He would warn her at any rate. Gerald knew a path through the lantation and the field which, though note orter than the one by which the police came, would take him to the cot- tage before them at the pace he would go ; through the long rass and the branches. and over the roug ground he scrambled and ran, dashing through the cot e-door just in time to prevent Babette, w e was entering with a heap of sun-dried clean clothes on her arm, from shuttin it. “ Babette, Babette,” he pante out, “ the Bolioe are comingâ€"here. Look out, if you ave anything to be afraid of." She stood the shock well; but it was a shock. She was not of the fainting or scream- in sort, this stolid young peasantwoman. W th the ease and quickness of wit which had deserted her so strangely when she was out of her element in Paris ehe put her finger on her lip, closed the rent-door, drew the bolt, and then disap- peared through the next room, the door of which she left open, into the outhouse be- yond. Gerald heard the drawing of another wit, the savage growl of a fierce animal, and in a few moments Babette came back. drew back again the bolt of the front door, and led him out by the arm into the garden. raid. In the gm dung which won rapid]? dork- cning into n ght. she pointed out across the bore expanse of field and heath at the book to something that looked in the obscurity no blocker than a shadow, moving rapidly farther and farther into the diptance. "w‘rliétli’vizr {16 6‘11: to-nlght on the garcnnes or in tho woods. if you can help it,” she whis- pered hoaf’nely. " Or, If you must go, take “A..- nun your gun." She gave him a push towards the garden gate and ran Into the cottage. Gerald bo- wlldered and anxious, crossed the roui and into the plnfletlon, "not in time to Lvold being seen by the po ioemen, whom he could see between the trees. They entered the cottnqe, they surrounded it, apparently tag made n search and retired dlseppoln For when their lender came out at the door. Babette followed him down the path with her hands on her lips and alenged him vol- ubly and indignantl .‘ An "hufnnn ll unz‘ thn Innrlnr - Anl‘ Ihqv "Au cliiéfiffléfd the leader 3 and they set off again in the direction of the avenue. A Woman Suffrage convention has been hold in 'Washington to rehearse the forty years struggle for woman's rights. Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, in her long experi- onoe and consideration of the subject, indi- cated how wise a statesman she would malre, should she be entrusted with the mana - ment of public atl‘airs. In reply to 0 question whether women would vote had they the right of suti‘rago, she promptly said that the women on the platform would be opposed to war, and following it with remarks on the fishery question, she said, “ let Canada have three miles of the ocean if she needs it. If the cod is the boned contention, as it is the poorest of all fish, let the Canadians eat it in peace so lon as we have oysters, shad, bass, and the geii cate salmon from our western lakes and California." We have always been assured how much more humanizing rule under women will be, and how great their syaas- pathy is for the poor and downtrodden. So long as poor sewing women and the families of laborers can live on oysters, shad,‘ bass and salmon, why should there be any dispute on international questions! It has been supposed that the cod fisheries was an important industry, certainly so in Mas- achusetts, where the cod fish has so long hung in our legislative halls, but new we have learned aimething better, and best of all that the poorest can get the greatest of delicacies Without stint. The next mm under woman suffrage perhaps, may be to let go the miserable, trashy beer, so generally used, by substituting under free trade the generous wines of other countries, to cheer the working classes. If not so, itisvery much in the line of knowledge of the masses as to their wants and necessities. This coir vention is said to have been a very learned and able one, but no one seems to have call- ed in question Mrs. Stanton's wisdom of political economy.-â€"[Beston Courier. Here isa. summing up that 88ng to _us Worthy of a place among the interesting items that have ,been gathered for pnblios tion since the death of the German Emperor. During his long life, Wilhelm I. saw go downto the grave 6 Popes, 8 Emperors. 5 Sultans, 49 Kings, and 2‘2 Republican Presidents. The latter comprise 21 Presl- dents of the United States and ;M. Thiera. _If Asia, A_fri_cs,and South America were to be ranakolmaréu-..» .... - _., _ be extended by a yard or two. Although it resulted in no actual reversal of the popular vote, possibly the most noteworthy_ pye-olection oh,» An Alleged Attempt to Antonin-8e (In IIonnrclI of Sen“. A story from Belgrnve, not altogether re- liable, makes the position of the King of Servia appear a. rather uncomfortable one. It relates that after the hamm-acmm speech with which King Milm opened last Sknptchina, a glass of water was pieced before him by his prime minister, Rietiu. Thus far the story in known to be true, and it is also true that a few days after- wards Ristica had ceaeed to govern. The doubtful part of the story declares that the King seized the glass, looked suspiciou- ly at the water for a second, put it down an- touched and at the closing of the aittin carried it away to a chemist. who inform him that the contents of thc glass would have caused a vacancy on the Servinn throne. Rietica plan for getting rid of the obnoxionu monarch, if, indeed, he had any such plan, would have been no new thing in Servia, whose rulers have quite frequently had their careers violently shortened. vuv unvw â€"-vv. .. -_ -_, has taken place Within; the year in Great Britain was that for Glanmorganahire on March 27th. At the general election in 1885, Mr. Frank Yeo, Gladstonian, we! re- turned unopposed, while in 1885 the Liberal candidate had a majority of 3457. On March 26th, 1888, the election was to fill a vacanc canned by the death of Mr. Yeo, and D. andell, the Gladetonian candi- date, was returned by a inajoriuy of only 366:; £15;va 58:51â€" v_5tes, indicating a ales-r change of opinion by upward-of 1400 electors There has of late seemed to be but little activity in Russian Nihilistic circles, and it might have been supposed that the revolu- tionists had abandoned plot and intrigue. The story, however, which comes from los- cow of the suicide of an army oflicer's daughv ter to escape arrest, and the finding in her trunk of dynamite bombs to be used in else- sinating the Czar. shows that the conspire- tors are still at work. It must be a terrible system of oppression from which, as the sufl'erers persuade themselves, no relic! on be found except by regiolde, and nothing could better illustrate the self-ahnegaflon and devotion which the belief in such a remedy engenders than the fact that it in- spires shrinking and tender women to pin] the role of martyrs. Does a rose under another name one]! as sweet! At any rate the substance once sold as elm-margarine until recently sold as butter and now Iold as simple ner- garine, tickles the public palates and slides down the public wsophagus with eqnel pleasantness and ease. no matter whet the name. The English Hoard of Trade returns show how much mistaken they were who anticipated that thc new law, forbidding the preparation from beests' fat to be cold as butter and ordering it to be called mar- garine,_would diminish tho demand for that substance and increase the demand for home- made butter. There is no felling oi! what- ‘ over in the importation of margarine. Ringing the bells oi locomotives by Item: is now effected by an ungenious oppnntns consisting of a small steam cylinder pineal at on side of tho bell frame and resting on the boiler; the connecting rod, which connects the piston to n three inch crank on the bell, is so constructed that it will varyitu length according to the swing of the bell, thus ro- moving any i ability of knocking the cylin- dtirbo‘ut by the piston coming in cont.“ w t t. KING MILAN'S ESCAPE. w omen as Statesman. (To bx vox'rmuzu.) in no actual Mu‘.’ Ina-n