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Wtisnotpartie. L to the averap but you want is Lture. Have one ilhing and Re- and Prompt- lay at "one. Shh mu. lame cl a. hLChMrul'lh [a pr Toronto Goa- Studio and R.- It. P.O. Box” LITTLE RYllt, B;C'u Help You- IBIBIB 0f er an, i0N, Lindsay .MBERS " Stab-ct t Blaze Gifts le Warts gym-t unspecified 19m, -“ ‘0 Reginald, I hate done wrong fâ€"I have done wrong 1' was her son- rowful, rcmorseful cry to all I could say. "Three weeks longer we con- tinued inmates of Everly Hall; and no one ever Suspected that we met other than as casual acquain- tances. Looking back now on my past life, those are the only days of unalloyed sunshine I can remember in the whole course of my life and shrshe. too. closed her eyes to' the .lui‘um- and was {AS-mm grace. "During the next M, I ever left the cottage; and wt was sufliciently recovered to pen, she wrote a tew lines Drindpal of the academy; a” had gone to visit a‘f W. would not retum fora 7 g twat,“ hid! W ’i .zm W,,- has y“ I No words can describe the bitter- 'ness of his tone, the undying self-re- !proach that filled his dank eyes, as Um spoke. E “.We bore her to the vestry; but it !=was long before she revived, and [longer still before, with all the se- ductive eloquence of passionate love, £1 could soothe her into quiet. “We paid the clergyman, and rode homeâ€"the gipsy youth and the high- born lady, ’united for life now by the mysterious tie of marriage. Now that the last, desperate step was taken. even I grew for a. moment ap- Palled at what I had done, But I' did not repent. » "It, was an ominous bridal, moth. nor: for, as the last. words died aWay. and we were pronounced man and wife. the harsh, dreadful croak of n raven resounded through the vast. dim church, and the ghostly bird 0! omen fluttered for a. moment over our heads. and fell dead at our feet. Excited by the consciousness that she was doin wrong; the sol- emn, unlighted 51d church; the dread, mystic hourâ€"all provod too much for my little child-wife, and with a piercing shriek she fell taint- ing in my arms. Mother, the 11an torable reproach of that wild, agon- ized cry will haunt me to my dying day." . ' "The great aisles were dimly light- ed by one solitary lamp, and by its light we beheld the clergyman, stand- ing, in full canonicnfs, to sanction our mad marriage. Robed in a. dark, flowing dress, with her white face looking out. from her damp, flowing; midnight hair, I can see her before me. as she ItOOd there. shivering at intervals with a. strange preaaging of future cVil. ”Two horses stood waiting. I lift- ved her into the saddle, sprung upon my own horse; and away we dashed, at a. break-neck pace. to consum- mate our own future misery. She did not utter a. word; but her face Was whiter than that of the dead when I lifted her from her saddle and drew her with me into the church. “All that day she remained in her room; while I rode 03 to a neighbor- ing town to engage a. clergyman to unite us at the appointed hour. Mid- night !ound me waiting, at the tz-ystingâ€"place: and true to the hour, my beautiful bride, brave in the strength of her love and woman’s faith in my honor, met me there. alone. “Mother. that was the turning- point in my destiny. Looking back to that time now, I can wish I had been struck dead sooner than have hurried, as I did, that impulsive. warm-hearted girl into that total marriage. Then, in all the burning anior of youth, I thought of nothing but, the intoxicating happiness with- in my grasp. I thought only of the presentâ€"of the joy, too intense, al- most. to be borneâ€"and I steadily shut my eyes to the future. . Had she knOWn who I really was, I know she would haVc considered me unworthy to touch even the hem of her gar- ment. 1 Once more he paused. and his fine eyes were full of bitter self-reproach now. . \ “The look that accompanied the words made me forget all I had hitherto striven to remember. In an instant I was at her feet, pouring out my wild tale of passion; in an- other, she was in my arms, whisper- ing the words that made we the happiest man on earth. It was well for us both the room was nearly de- serted, and the corner where we were in deepest shadow. or the ecstasies into which, like all lovers. we went. would have led to somewhat unplea- sant corsequences. But our destiniet had decrced' we should, for the time. have things all our own way; and that night I urged. with all the elo- quence o! a. first. mistlese pension. :1 secret marriage. I spoke of her father's compelling us to part; of his insisting on her marriage with one whom she could not love; I drew o touching description of myself. de- Voted to at life of solitude nnd mis- cry. and probably ending by com- milling suicideâ€"which meloncholy picture so worked upon her tenrl. ilmt l‘ verily believe she would have iiwl With me to New South Wnlel. llmi i asked it. Ami so 1 pleaded. with oil the order of a. passion that was no strong and uncontrollable an it we: Ielflah and exacting. until she promised. the following night., to meal secretly out and fly with me to where I was to have a. clergyman in Waiting. and then and there become my wife.” er. “ 'It is no engagement of my mak- ing,’ she said, in ‘a. low, trembling voice. "I never saw Lord Villiers, nor he me. Our fathers wish we should marry, that is all.’ “ ‘And will you obey ?' I said, in a. thrilling whisper. " ‘No,’ she said impulsively; ‘nev- mce, Ior ner eyes zeu peneatn mine; and the hot blood mounted to her very brow. “ ‘And you are engaged to an- other,’ I said, in a. tone of passion- ate reproach: ‘Oh, why did I not know thia ?’ WATCHMAN-wmmzmmr. 3mm '1“. m “The doctor had pronounced her ,ilness severe, but not dangerous; and .Said that with careful nursing she iwould soon be restored to health. :When he was gone, I turned to the old woman, and inquired if she Was willing to undertake the care of the child. The promise of being well paid made her readily answer in the affirmative; and then we concluded a bargain that 8116 Was to take care of the inlant, and keep its existence a secret from every one, and, above all, from its mother. For I khew that she Would never consent to give it up, and I was molved that it should not be the means of drag- ging her down to poverty and dis- grace. “During the next weeIi. 'I scarcely ever left the cottage; and when she was sufficiently recovered to use pen, she wrote a law lines to .tho principal of the academy, saying she had gone to visit a. friend, ‘ aid," would not return for a fortnight. at team’s!” had em humane“ I endured at that moment, might have atoned for a. darker crime than mine. I had never felt so fully. be- fore, the wrong I had done her; and with the knowledge of its £qu enor mity, came the resolution of making all the atonement in my power. the irretrievable wrong I had done her; and to lose her was worse than death to me. “The intense anguish and remorse "Mother, what I felt at that mom- ent words can never disclose. Discov- ery now seemed inevitable. She must wake to the knowledge that he for whom she had given up everything was a. gipsy; that her child bore in his veins the tainted glpsy blood. Dio- owned and despised by all her high- born friends, she would hate me, tor ting with (babe in her arm. while the child-mother lay still unconscious as I had left her. “As I enteroa, the feeble wail of an infant struck on my ear; and the first object on which my eyes rested as I went in. Was the old woman. pit- “There was no doctor in the vil- lage whose skill I could trust where her life was concerned; and, half- mad with terror and alarm. I sprang on horseback, and rode of! to Lon- don for medical aid. But with all my haste, nearly twelve hours elapsed before I could return accompanied by a skilled though obscure physician. "Leaving her in the care of the old “omen I went to the nearest sur- geon, had my wounds dressed, and my horses disposed of until such time as we could resume our journey. Then I returned to the cottage; but found. "to my great alarm, that my wife, during my absence, had become set. iously ill, and was raving in the wild delirium of a. burning fever. "I heard a. faint cry from my com- panion. and unheeding a. broken arm, which was my share of the accident, I managed to raise her from the ground, where she lay senseless, and hear her into the cottage. Fortun- ately, the cottage was owned by an old widow, to whbm I had once renâ€" dered some slight service which w cured her everlasting gratitude; and more fortunately still. my compan- ion had received no injury from her fall, beyond a. slight wound in the head. “So a your passed. One day. wish- ing to consult her about something --we met at an appointed trystinr place. She entered the light chaise I had brought with me, and we drove oil. The horses were hall-tamed things at best. and in the outskirts of a. little village. they took (right at something. and started on like the wind. I strove in vain to check them. On they flow, like lightning. until suddenly coming in contact with a. garden fence. the chaise was over- thrown, and we were both flung violently out. I met her frequently at ilret; but her father. after a time. began to think. perhaps. that. for the eon of an ex- iled count. I «as making too rapid progress in his daughter’e afleotlone. and peremptorily ordered her to die- continue the acquaintance. But Ihe loved me well enough to ‘dieohey him; and though I eaw ehe looked torward with undieguieed terror to the time when the revolution of our marriage would be made. we still continued to meet at long intervals. ’ "But'the time came when wo were forced to part. She went back to school. while I returned to London. rerrecuy nnpp. . uwDouu Kidn 'Pllllndn'tfind. Id hthonld not... trial. Am sfiwutmw _ bow-9-7 :3“ WWW write; 7‘. 1151?“, m‘}? Backnchg _t_nd pd. h_ny__dd_s I DOAN’S KIDNEY ' PILLS. The egreat and well known Kid- ney remedy. They have cured thousands of women. They will cure you. Not one woman In' twenty has n “tons buck. lack-oh I. tho on at “out [Id-on lou- help. Back-also Is the war-In. ab 0! moi mom IOI‘IOII troubl- to «no, It not at- undod to [maul-bu. B k h In I pal-23::at110ls' I'll; and F OR!) -.‘ Ba‘ckaches of Women. Imam-mam EPBS’S 0060A ”Delirious, am 1?" she said, In her deep bell-like tones. that echoed “Sleep," she bitterly ethoed. “and when do you think I have slept? Look at these sunken eyes, this ghastly lace, this haggard form. end ask when I slept. Think of the mighty wrong I have sudere'd. and ask when I shall sleep again.” “My poor, unhappy mother!" "He can sleep." she broke out with a. low, wild laugh. “Oh, ya! in his bed of down. with his princely_ son under the Same roof, with menial! to come at his beck; he can sleep. Yes. he sleeps now! but the hour comes when that sleep shall lest toms! 'l’hcn my eyes may close. but never before!" "You are delirious, mother: this blow has turned your brain." EPPS’S 0000A Listen to me. m5 mother!" And his low, calm. soothing tones were in strong contrast to her impassioned voice. “I am not tired of you â€"you wrong me by thinking so; but I have letters to write, and many mat- ters to arrange before to-morrow's sun rises. I am tired. too. and Want to rest; for it. is a long time since sleep has visited my eyes. mother." its natural qualifies intact. fitted to build up and autumn robust health, and to W winter's extreme cold. Sold in lb. tins. labelled JARS up a: 00., 14.. pubic Chemists, London. "Yours. Reginald?” she cried. in a. voice of unutterable reproach. “You wish that I should leave you? For fifteen years I have given you up. and in one short. hour you tire 0! me now. 0 Reginald, my son! my son!" He came over. ahd laid his small, delicate hand on hers. hard. coarse and black, with sun, wind and (oil. No Words can describe the piercing anguish, the utter was that rived that wild cry up Irom_ her tortured heart. “I will not go!" said a voice so hollow, so unnatural that it seemed to issue from the jaws of death. “I will not go. I defy Heaven and earth, and God himself, to bear me from you now;H "Mother, it in my wish." he saw. calmly. “Mothcr, you must leave me now." he said, “for the few hours that. are left me, I Would like to be alone. It. is better for us both that we put now."- Still no reply. but oh, the fixed, burning gaze of those spectral eyes of fire! Tf one spark of the honor you 021cc professed still lingers in your Lrenst, ‘c silent. as remuds the past. Yor have forever blighted my life: but he world need never lnzm' what we met: Were to each other. If money is en" object'â€"end her lenutiiul lir- rurlgd with a cmtempt too intcnzc for Womfsâ€"‘you :hull have half my wealthâ€"the whole of it. if you will- 1 it on'y buys your silence. I will return to school. and try to forgo: the unuttcrublc- degradation into which I have sunk.’ "Mother. mother! such was our pnrting:â€"in scorn and~ hntrcd on one side, in utter despair and undying re- morse on the other. That. day. she returned to school; I fled. to drown thought. in the maddening whirl and tumult 0! London: and we have nev- “The time I hid Md ennui ‘ it lastly betterment-e hid who fimmebirthdmchilmdndlmâ€" solved to tell her all, cost what it might, and set her flee. ”other. you can conceive the bitter hummation such a. confession must have been to meâ€"yet I made it. I told her at}: how basely I had deceived her; how deeply I had wrtnged her. In that momrnt every spark of lo\'e she had ever felt for me was qucnrhed tow “.‘er in henmajcstic‘indignation. hc-r mom, and utter contempt. Siiemly <he arose and confronted me. white as the dead, superb in her withering ~corn All the. pride of her proud race swel‘ ed in her breast, in n loathing (too deep and intense for wax-ts; but those steady. dnrlenintl eyes. that seem“! scintilintiug sparks of fire. I will never forget. “ ‘Iierc V3 must part then. Regin lid Germaine: and on t. .is earth “e musi newr meet again!’ she said. in 3 mice steady from its very depth 0' scorn. '0f the mut‘h‘css wrong ym 'mve done me. I will not speak unquesuoneu, net nun-anon excited no surprise or suspicmmund mud in me cottage. she remained for the next two weeks. Moving through its gorgeous roams, Earl De Courcy dreamed not a! the din-2'. vengeful glance that would, if it could, have pierced thoae solid wall: of stone to see): him. And yet. ever before him. to mar his festivity, would arise the haunting memory 0! that convulsed hoe. those grant. Amid :11 tho'g‘litter and etyoltbobtillinntmm around hecouflnotiorgetunpbdim cl wtslmmhlum Ic- any. unwind-anew 4km~m whit-nu of the street lamp. Her duh (we was set with a look fairly terrific in its intensity of Intc. And um. smile curling her thin, colorless lip- â€"â€"Sa.tal himeu might. have envied he: that. (lamina! mile 0! un- quenchable mllgaity! lighted mansio- ol Earl De Courcy. Swelling on the nlght sir, came borne to her ear strains 0! noun-t music. as it to mock her misery. Gay forms were flitting past the windows and, at intervals, soft. musical peak of laughter mingled with the louder sounds of gaycty. Folding her unn- over her breast. the glpty boned against a. lamp pod, and looked. with a. steady smile. up gt the illum- inated “marble hall" before he. Ber commanding form. made more com- manding by her free, fiery costume, stood out in bold mild. in the light Dusky forms. like shadows from the grave, were flitting to and iro. brushing post her as they went. She knew who they worthâ€"the scum. the oilâ€"casts, the street walkers oi Lon- don. Whilc she stood there. clutching the parapet, a female form. in light. flowing garments. was borne on. an it by the night-wind, and stood gal- 1ing down into the gloomy waters beside her. One fleeting glimpee she caught oi a pale, young face. beauti- iul still. despite its look of unutter- able Woe; and then. with a. light rue- tle, something went down. lur 'down, into the waves beneath. There Was a sullen plunge, and the gipsy queen leaned over to see. By the light oi oneotthetu'geinmpesheuw a darker shadow rise through the dark- ness to the aux-face. For an instant that white. wild face. glared above the blank tween: 0! the 'I‘hamee. and then disappeared {oi-ever; and with a hard. bitter smile, terrible to Ill.‘ the dark. dread woman turned away. Aww, again through the labyrinth oi the city, leaving that "Bridge a! Sighe" fur behindâ€"away iron the dark den. and filthy purlieue to the wider and ‘more tashio-eble part cl the town. sped the aim queen. Clutchlng her breast fiercely at inter vols, with her dark. horny tinge". eaiiehewouldteartheeeethe an- guish that was driving her mad. she new on. until once again due found bend! before the brilliantly "No; 1 will live till I have wrung lrom his heart, a tithe of the misery mine has felt." she thought; and then, a. dark, lowering glance on the black'. troubled waters below, filled up the hiatus. May through the driving storm-â€" through the doomnlng darkness 0! coming mornâ€"through tho long. bleak. gusty streetsâ€"through alloyn. and courts. and lanes; whlrlod on like a loo! lo the blunt that know. hot. cum not. whither it goes. sped the aim queen. Return. '1‘th were not many abroad at that hour: but those she passed. paused in terror. dnd gnztd alter the towering lorm. with the wild lame and wilder eyes. that am post like a lost soul n- turnlng to Hades. She atood on Lon- don bridge. and. leaning over. look- od down on the black. slugglth war tors beneath. Ono plunge. she thought. as also looked over. and dll this gnawing misery that seem- out;- lng her very Vitals might be ended forever. ’ One hand Was laid on the railâ€"the next moment she might have been in eternity; but. with the rebound of a roused tigruo Vsho sprung back. ' an evil shadow. The heavy door again anng to; an key turned in the lock, "It. in Lhi jailer to lot you out, Onto more. good-byoflf Without. one word she pressed on. hot. burning kiss on his handsome brow; and then the door opened. and she [fitted out In the darkness 1ku Folding her mantle around her, she knotted the handkerchief. that had fallen on. under her chin, and stood ready to depart. The young man went to the door. and knocked loud- ly. A moment utter. the trump of heavy feet was heard in the corridor approaching the door. “Ask no blessing for me!" she fiercely broke in, “I would hurl it back in the face of the angels, did they 0601' it." "Strong hate. stronger than death!" he said halt to himsell. u be gazed on that fiendish face. ”Fare- well then. mother. Will you fulfill my lust request?" ‘.‘About. your child?-yes." "Thank you, dearest. mother. I! solostawretchaslam.dared in- voke Heaven. I would ask its blea- ings on you." "Mother. Lord be Courcy ls notflso much to blume'utw all. since he be- nex-es me guilty. I am not alarmed by your wild threats; [or I know. in the course of time. this mad mu will grow less." "Neverâ€"never!" she ficrcely'. hissed (Trough her clenched teeth. "May Gad forget me i! I ever forget my vow! Reginald. i! I thought thtt man could go to Heaven. and I by some impossibility could be saved too. I would take a dagger and send my soul to perdition, sooner than go there with him." Upturned in the red light of the mlzunp, her face. as she spoke. "Ii lamp, her lace. as she spoke, was the lace of a. demon. Inhmotllesvayonnow.m dd. lino: such is your command: and her. when for uwoy. you lean hind you who will wreak tear- in! vengeance for all we have both nukred." uu-nhgay In the med: w. "n ' un- dying into. i! W 7% if flange that will never be ”tinted but'by his misery. be aelirium. than (Continual on M 3) CHAPTER VII. GILLESPIE In; amIAN‘TwBBER Cox CHANGE OF HANAGEMENT. The Old Isle Outâ€"The New Gone [I M. J. GILESPIE