life. air tho' Role him late eve) that the for It tua' am- let Nikc she the dirt upox that itx mysn 6b side tn I...‘ .1 w†it to be wondered at theretore that my work was pleasant to me and that the wording of Mr. mybonme's ht» ters of praise seemed sweeter ï¬n my ears than the strains of the loveliest music could hue been. It was evident that my m: m in the Wt. Six months had elapsed since Ihad left Cape Town and on looking back on them now I have to confess that they constituted the happiest period of my life up to that time. I had an excellent appointment, an interesting, if not all-absorbing, occupation, com- fortable quarters, And the most agree. able of companions any man could de- sire to be associated with. I was as far removed frog! clVilizatiog as the heat misanthropxc of men, living by civilized employment, could hope to get. Our nearest town, it by such a name a few scattered huts could be digniï¬ed, was nearly ï¬fty miles dis- tant, our mails only reached us once a week, and our stores every three months. As I had never left the mine for half a day during the whole of the time I had been on it, I had seen no strange faCes, and by reason of the distance and the unsettled nature of the country, scarcely halt-a-dozen had “The Pride of the South," as the mine had been somewhat grandilo- quently christened by its discoverer, was proving a better property than had even been expected, and to my astonishment,. for I had made haste to purchase shares in it, my luck had turned, and I found myself standing an excellent chance or becoming a rich man. One thing surprised me more and more every day, and that was my freedom from arrest: how it had come about that I was permitted to remain at large so long I could not under- stand. When I had ï¬rst come up to Rhodesia I had found a danger in everything about me. In ‘the rustling of the coarse yeldt grass at night, the sighing of the wind through the trees, and even the shadows ot the mine buildings and machinery; But when week after week and month after month went by and still no notice was takenofmebythepolioe,my tears began to abate until, at the time of which I am about to speak, 1 hard- ly thought of the matter at all. When I did I hastened to put it away from‘ me in much the same way as I would me. I! suspioiOn- m but warm onmeinlhxgland,itwouldhenn- likely, I argued, ever to 99 3 and not}, A mason, vvv- w â€"' -v, in the joy of this thought I new? dreams of the happiness that might pass!ny be mine _in ï¬ghting?†L‘-L Two hours later I was in the train bound for Johannesburg. that scene I cannot attempt to. give you any descriptionâ€"the pain is too keen even now. Sufï¬ce it that when I left the house I carried with me, in addition to a sorrow that I thought would last me all my life, a little square parcel which. on opening, I found to contain a photo of herself in a Russian leather case. How I prized that little present I will leave you to guess. \ At twelve o’clock I returned to the house, and, .after lunch, prepared to bjd the woman I loved “good-bye.†Of Next morning after breakfast I drove with Mr. Maybougne into Cape Town, where I made the few pur- chases necessary for my journey. In extension of the kindness he had so far shown me, he insisted on advan- cing me half my ï¬rst year’s salaryâ€"a piece of generosity for which you may be sure I was not ungrateful, seeing that I had not a halfpenny in the world to call my own. Out of this sum I paid the steamship company, for my passageâ€"much against their wishâ€"obtained a ready-made rig out suitable for the rough life I should henceforth live, also a revolver, a rifle, and among other things a small gold locket which I wished to give to Ag- nes as a keepsake and remembrance of myself. She held up her sweet face to me, and I kissed her on the lips. Then, Mr. Maybourne returned to the veran- dah; and, half-an-hour later, feeling that father and daughter would like a little time alone together before they retired to rest, I begged them to excuse me, and on a pretence of feel- ing tired went to my room. “Agnes,†I‘lsaid, as I took posses- sion of her little hand, “you cannot guess what it costs me to tell .you how impossible it is'tor me ever to link my lot with yours. The reason why I cannot tell you. My secret is the bitterest one a man can have to keep, and it must remain locked in my own breast for all time. Had I met you earlier it might have been‘ very differentâ€"but now our ways must be separate for ever. Don’t think more hardly of me than you can help, dear. Remember only that as long as I live I shall call no other woman wife. Henceforward I will try to be worthy of the interest you have felt in me. No one shall ever have the right to say ought against me; and, it by chance you hear good of me in the dark days to come, you will know that it is for love of you I rule my life. May God bless and keep you al- ways.†She bowed her head on her hands with a little moan, while I, feeling that I should not be able to control myself much longer, sprang to my feet and went across to the verandah rails. For something like ï¬re minutes I stood looking into the dark garden, then I pulled myself together as well as I was able and went back to my “And is it always to be like this, Gilbert,†she asked, for the ï¬rst time ealling me by my Christian name. “Are we to be separated all our lives?â€- “God knowsâ€"I far so,†I murmur- ed, though it cutï¬ne to the heart to have to say the words. ‘ “You know what it is worth.â€â€™l answered vehemently, roused out of myself by this accusation. “And if ever the chance occurs again of prov- ing it you will be afforded another example. I mnnot say more: W†Lust of Hate (Continued from last week) $162 19013! CHAPTER XI. BY GUY BOOTHBY “A Beautiful White Devil,†“A 33qu c,†“Th’eMarrizge of Esther,†1 “Dr. Nikola,†Etc†Etc; . E‘s} and In one way and another tossed about generally until it was time for my guests to arrive. I had ï¬tted up my own bedroom for Miss Maybeume. and made it as comfortable as the limited means at my disposal would allow. Her father would occupy the overseer-’3 room, that mama: shah in; a tent with me at the back. The m was last shking to his forgotten a single particular, drilled my servants in their duties until I had brought them as near perfection as it was possible for me toget them. How well I remember Mr. and Miss Maybourne’s arrival! It was on a Wednesday, exactly three weeks after my conversation with Mackinnon just recorded, that a boy appeared with a note from the old gentleman to me. It was written from the township, and stated that they had got so far and would be with me duflng‘ the after noon. From that time forward I ex- amined my preparations with a cfltl- cal eye, discussed the meals with tho cook to make sure that he had not tainlng employment. seemed so peace- ably inclined that I felt compelled to dismiss Mackinnon’s suspicions from my mind as groundless, and deter- mined on no account to alarm my friends in such needlessly silly me- hion. ‘ With this ambiguous answer I had to be content. I must confess, how- ever, ‘that I went back to the house feeling a littl uneasy in my mind. Ought I to wr te and warn Mr. May- bourne, or should I leave the matter to chance? As I did not intend to send on my mail until the following day, I determined t9 sleep on it. In the morning I discovered that my fears had entirely vanished. The boys we employed were going about their duties in much the same man- ner as usual, and the half-dozen na- tives who had come in during the course of the day in the hope of ob- “\ae! Nae! I’m na’ sayin’ that at all. Let him come by all means since he’s set on it. But I’m not going toJ say I think he’s wise in bringing the girl H ,_. -. ,,~rl-s Accustomed as he was to look on the gloomy side of things, I could not but remember that he had been in the country a longer time than I had, and that he had also had a better ex- perience of the treacherous Matabele than I could boast. “in ybur "opinion,- then,†I said, “I had better endeavor to dissuade Mr. Mayboume from coming uy?†_ He shook his head more sagely than before. “Ye can say what ye please,â€â€™ he said, “I’m nae settin’ up for a pro- phet. but I canna hek) but see what’s put~ plain before my eyes. As the proverb saysâ€"‘Forewarned is fore armed.’ There’s been trouble an" dis- content all through this country-side form onths past, an’ if Mr. Maybourne brings his daughter up hereâ€"well, he’ll have to run the risk of mischief happenin’ to the lass. It’s no business 0’ mine, however. As the proverb saysâ€"‘Let the wilful gang .their own gait.’ †- “My dear fellow,†I said, a little testily I fear, for I did not cage to hear him throw cold water on Mr. Maybourne’s visit in this fashion, “you’re always thinking the natives are going to give trouble, but you must confess that what you prophesy never comes off.†a lady at present, as Mr. Maybourne kens well 690’. An’ what’s more, there’ll be trouble among the boys (natives) before vera long. He'd best be out of it.†7 FAW foolish thing,†he said. in his slow, matteroof fact way, “a vera fool- ish thing. This countrx’s gge _ï¬t. for While I was mentally running my eye over what I should do, Mackin- non, my big Scotch overseer, 'came up from the shaft’s mouth to where I stood, and reported that some tim- bering which I had been hurrying forward was ready for inspection. After we had visited it and I had sig- niï¬ed my approval, I informed him of our employer’s contemplated visit, and wound up by saying that his. daughter would accompany him. He shook his head solemnly when he heard this. h‘ad done well in asking me to see to her comfort. I told myself would begin my preparations at o , an it should go hard with me if she, wer not pleased with my arrangements when she arrived. Eilevihispiection it received, I may say that it was already beginning to show decided signs of wear: Mr. Maybourne or pain. I felt it difï¬cult to believe that in a few weeks’ time I should see Agnes again, be able to look into her face, and hear the gentle accents of her voice. The portrait she had given me of herself I carried continual- ly about with me; and, as proof of I was standing at the engine-room door, talking to one of the men, when the store-keeper brought me 'my mail. After I had read my chief’s letter, I felt a thrill go through me. that I could hardly have diagnosed for pleasure andfaâ€"sâ€"iiwas soon 'toyï¬nd‘ eat, I was on the edge of the bitterest period of all my life. \ Almost on the day that celebrated my seventh month in Mr. Maybourne’s employ, I received a letter from him announcing his intention of starting for Rhodesia in a week’s time, and stating that while in our neighbor- hood he would embrace the oppor- tunity of visiting “The Pride of the South.†In the postscript he informed me that his daughter had decided to accompany him, and for this reason he would be glad it I would do my best to make my quarters as comforâ€" table as possible in preparation for her. He, himself, he continued, was far too old a traveler to be worth con- sid'ering. but, {hang}: I edifld ï¬ot g'uess it then, my troubles were by n9 xgeans over; A v#.__ hen I espled es‘tern veldt. larger anti} out. a buggy as. It" was Here I can only give utterance to .a remark which, I am told, is as old as the hillsâ€"and that is, how little we } men understand the apposite sex. From that night forward, for the ï¬rst three or four days of her visit, Agnes' manner towards me was as friendly as of old, but I noticed that she made but small difference between her I treatment of Mackinnon and the way in which she behaved towards myself. This was more than I could bear, and in consequence my own behavior to- wards her changed. I found myself bringing ev‘éry bit of ingenuity I pos- sessed to bear on an attempt to win her back to‘the old state. But it was in vain! Whenever I found an oppor- tunity, and hinted at my love for her, she invariably changed the conversaâ€" tion into such a channel that all my I intentions were frustrated. In con- sequence, I exerted myself the more to please until my passion niust have been plain to everyone about the place. Prudence, honor, everything that separated me from her was likely to be thrown to the winds. My in- }fatuation for Agnes Maybourne had lgrown to such a pitch that without | her I felt that I could not go on living. Em-b’oldened by my snow†I resolw ed to push my fate sun further. “Agnes,†1183111. “I havebeen thinkv hgomw'hstlsamspinsmw.m you new for some MM "£4!- “Of a good many,†she answered. a little artfully. I'm__a.tra1d._ “I cannot say that it reminds me of one more than another. All things considered. there is a great sameness in South “How strangely little circumstances recall the past. What place does that remind you of?†I asked. pointing to the rocky hill on the other side of. the believelmhilo'in rightlmtto tan van thnmrvzti my “10. Old. 0n reaching our destination, we tied our horses, by their reins, to a tree at the foot of the hill, and climbed up to the falls we had ridden over to explore. After the ï¬rst impression, created by the wild grandeur of the scene, had passed, I endeavored to make the opportunity I wanted. ‘ “IamsorryIl-eoalledittoyonr memory, then,†I answered. “I think In spite ot‘the way-yorkavebehavotl towards me lately, Agnes. you am aware that I would not give you pain for anything. Do yet; no! thug!†;_‘ than I could stand, and I determined, as soon as I could ï¬nd a convenient opportunity, to test my gate and have it settled for good end p.11.“ _-_ .._'-___v- _ . As! at thtsrquéétiontoherilm' ed Into 'her has. She dropped her “Though the likeness has evidently not impressed you, it reminds me very muchot Salvage Island,†I said, draw- ing 9. step closer to her side. “Half- way up: that hill one might well ex- pect to flnd'the plateau and. the cave." “Oh,- why do you speaktome otthat ewtul cave,†she said; with a shud- der; “though I try to tangent, it al- ways gives me g nighunare.†_ One day, a little mqre than a week after their arrival, it was my good fortune to accompany her on a riding excursion to a waterfall in the hills, distant some seven or eight miles from the mine. On the wa she rallied me playfully, on what 8 9 called “my unusual quietness." This was more Ah‘lcau scenery." Cleverly as she attempted to turn my question on, I was not to be balk- ed so easily. I was still more piqued when a little later she stated that site felt tired, and holding out her hand, bade me “good-night,†and went to her room. on the niine, and such like trivial matters. Illoglcal as men are, though I had hoped, for both our sakes, that she would not venture again on such delicate ground as we had traversed before we said good-bye, I could not help a. little sensation of disappoint- ment when she acted up to my advice. Thinking that perhaps she had said too much, she checked herself sud- denlv, and tor a little while did not speak again. When she did, it was only about the loneliness of my life “More pleased than I can tell you, ’ I answered, truthfully. “But you mus not ask me if I think you were wise to come.†“I can see that you think I was not," she continued. “But how little you understand my motives. I could not bert ‘2†Towards the end of the evening, Mr. Maybourne made an excuse and went into the house, leaving us together. Mackinnon had long since departed. When we were alone, Agnes leant a. little forward in her chair and said: When the meal was ï¬nished we ad- journed to the verandah and lit our pipes. The evening was delightfully cool after the heat of the day,. and overhead the. stars twinkled in the ï¬rmament of heaven like countless lamps, lighting up the sombre veldt till we could see the shadowy outline of trees miles away. The evening breeze rustled the long grass, and across the square the ï¬gure of our cook could just be seen, outlined against the ruddy glow of the ï¬re in the hut behind him. How happy I was I must leave you to guess. From where I sat I could catch a glimpse of my darling’s face, and see the gleanr of her rings as her hand rested on the arm of her chair. The memory of the awful time we had spent together on the island, and in the open boat, came back to me with a feeling that was half pleasure, half pain. When I rea- lized that I was entertaining them in my abode in Rhodesia, it seemed scarcely possible that we could be the same people. or the Fiji Princess, the day we had left Southampton. She greeted me with a ï¬ne show of cordiallty, but under it it was easy- to‘ see that she was as nervous as myself; Having handed the herses and buggy over to a couple of my boys. I led my guests into the house I had prepared for them. Evidently they had come with the intention of being pleased, for they expressed themselves as surpris- ed and delighted with every arrange- ment I had made for their comfort. It was a merry party, I can assure you, that sat down to the evening meal that nightâ€"so merry, indeed, that under the influence of Agnes‘ manner even Mackinnon forgot him- self and ceased to prophesy min and desolation. - Five minutes Later ï¬le Titties had†pulled up .opposite my veranfla'h and I had shaken hands with my guests and was assisting Agnes naught. Never before had I seen her look so you pleased to see me, Gil- 33%;"th 1' w i him. I will content myself with 1:1†_, you that when I had got Hâ€; .imi could have killed him by liftin‘ ‘ littlé ï¬nger, nimcult as you “1123' Ltd } it to believe it, I saw your knee bcic. T me imploring me to repent. There and ‘then I determined to throw of; m. ‘ disguise. to let him know who 1 war, and what I intended to do to him- after that Irohld have hidden him go. and have left him to his own cox science. But. to my horror. when I got down from my boxâ€"tor I was driving him in a cabâ€"I found that in some devilish fashion my work had been anticipated for meâ€"the man was dead, killed by the. same fatal agency that had been given to me to do the deed. Try for one moment to imagine my position. In'one instant I stood in that quiet London street; stnmned with the brand, of cain. Never again could 1 below my fellow en. Hence- forth I must know my for what I wasâ€"a murderer, whose proper end “‘I need not tell you how I g:: :3: man in my power nor in Hz. . wx-u ner it was arranged that I should kill \anmc won Ila-u â€CV“ ylulluy.n . -ï¬â€˜v.‘ I stopped: tor a moment and at Agnes. who was cowering w1111 face In her hands She di (1 not 533:: so I continued my gruesome "“A sent one of his satellites ‘lo comnlete my ruin. That manâ€"such a mar . as. you could not picture to \‘onrs ‘1'- put before me a scheme for gating: even with my enemy. so devilish. tin at first I could hardly believe it. ~ 2-; . in earnest. So insiduously «if a he 1": 11 me, playing upon my hatred ml 11 creasing my desire for reVeng 11:17: at last I fell into his net as as; 72:1; ly as he could wish. The means w: immediately found for getting ~ t._v \ io- tim into my clutches, and the.» n"i".‘:‘1_~4 remained but'to work out :ho hideru crime that had been piz’xnnczi f1} 12?. her, I do not say this in any way to excuse myself. but simply to show you that my mind was undoubtedly not quite itself at the time. At any rate, to such a pitch of hatred did I at length work myself that it was as much as I could do to prevent myself from laying violent hands upon my enemy when I saw him in the public street After I had been enter-tn: .1. 'ng the\devil in this fas hion for longer than was for me in rennn sent one 0 his satellites 0 complete 9 had appropriated the mine. You can- 1not imagine \my disappointment. I wanted money so badly; and I had counted so much on obtaining this, that I had almost come to believe my- self possebsed of it. What need to tell the rest? He became enormously rich. and returned to England- In the mean- time my tather had died, leaving me a sufï¬cient sum, when carefully in- vested, to just keep me alive. With this to help me I followed my enemy home, resolved, it ever a chance arose. to revenge myself upon him When I arrived I saw his name everywhere. I found his wealth, his generosity, his success in life, extolled in every paper I “picked up; while I, from whom he had stolen that which gave him his power. had barely sumcient tokeep me out of the workhouse. You must understand that I had been seriously ill, for the second time. just before I left Australia, and perhaps for this reasonâ€"hut more so,» I believe. on account of the great disappointment to which I had been subjected-I be- gan to brood over my wrongs by day and night. and pine for revenge. I could not eat or sleep for it. Remem- college scrape; the5 blame for which was thrown upon me. my father turned line out of England with a portion of my inheritance. I went to Australia, where I tried my hand at all sorts of employment. gold mining among the number. Details of my life out there; with one exception, would not interest you; so I will get on to the great catastrophe, the results of which were taking me out of England when I ï¬rst met you. Up to this time ill- .luck-had constantly pursued me. and I had even known the direst poverty. You may imagine, therefore. what my feeling were when an old, friend, .a mu with whom I had been partner on many goldflelds, told me or a place which he had discovered where, he said. there were prospects of sumcient gold to make us both millionaires halt a ozen times .over.. He, poor fellow, wa dyingat the time, but he “left his secret to me, bidding me take im- mediate advantage oi it. True to my promise, I intended to set oi! to the place he had found as soon as he was buried, and having discovered it, to apply to Government for right to mine there, but fate was against me, and I was taken seriously iii. For weeks I hovered between life and death. When I recovered I saddled my horse, and, dreaming of all I was going to ac- complish with my wealth, when I» had obtained it, made my way across coun- try by the chart he had given me. When I arrived at the spot it 'uwas only to learn that my greatest enemy in the world, a man who hated me as much as I did him, had fllched my secret from me in my delirium, and ‘\ “God'knowa I have as good reasons for yishipg youto know‘vas pny man could have,†rammed; “I can trust you as I can trust no one else in the world. I wish you to hear and judge me. Whatever you say, I will doé‘and abide by it." , . .‘ She put her" little hand in mine, and having done so, seated herself ad a boulder. Then. after a‘ little pause. she bade me tell her all. 'ou'f‘ secret?" me you will readily understand. I could not sleep at night for thinking of it. and not once but a thousand times I bitterly regretted having bur- dened her mind with my unhappy secret. ‘ Tm afternoons prior to our guests' are 1 was sitting in my veran- rending the letters vuch Ind m to the mine by the null- nt midday. Ir. ybonrne m nut-me, the poop in hi: 3:: eggs: Nearly a week had elapsed since I had made my confession to Agnes at the Falls, and in three days it was Mr- Maybougle’s intentmn to set out on his return journey to the South. During the whole of that period not one word had been said by Miss May- honrne regarding my story. But if she did not refer to it in speech it was easy to see that the subject was never absent from her mind. On two occa- sions I heard her father question her as to the reason of her quietness, and I new that each time she found it n more diacult task to invent a satin- tactory replnyhnt this _‘ meant_ to “Bélieve me. you can help me best by agreeing to my prsgosal. Will you make me happy by 00 eating to what I wish ?ID “If it will please you I will do so,†she said. softly. “God bless you, dear.†I ansyegeq. MVâ€"l' '- v “ “But I waif to be with you and to help you now †“Agnes," I said. “will you agree to a compromise? Will you promise me to take a year to think it over? It at the end. of that time I am at liberty I will go to your father, tell him my story as I have to-day told it to you. and. if he will still have anything to do with me; ask him for your hand. By that time I shall probably know my fate, you will be able to see things {more clearly, and I shall not feel that I have takenadvantage of your love â€downtown†- I was sllent for h few moments. In what way could I make her see how base a thing It would be on my part to pull her down into the maelstrom of misery that might any day draw me to my doom? At last an idea oc- curred to me. “Gilbert." she said, “11' you repulse me now you will make me miserable for life. Oh, why must I plead so hard with you?†Cannot you see that I am ineamestwhenlsaylwishtoshare your danger with yap?†reason than ever- that I should love you. It you are in danger. this 11th. time for me to prove what my anec- tion is worth. Do you value my love so lightly that you deem it only ï¬t {or fair weather? When the world is against you. you can see who are your friends." “God bless you. darling." I said. kissing her sweet upturned face. "You' knew that there is no one in this world so much to me as you: and for that very reason I cannot consent to link your fate with such a terrible one as mine.†“No, no! she cried. with a sudden change of front. “011 the other hand. you have; shown me that there is more “But, Agnes, we are missing one point that is of vital importance." 1. said. "Knowing what I am, hencefon ward everything must be over be- tween us." She glanced wildly round. as if she fancied the minions or the law might already be on my truck. I endeavored to soothe her. but in vain. She was thoroughly frightened, and nothing L could say or do would convince her' that I was not in immediate danger. At last. to try and bring her to a reasonable frame or mind, I adopted other tactics. “Oh. what can y‘ou do then? Come what may I shall not let you be taken. on God, I could not bear that.†“But, Gilbert, you xhust not let them ï¬nd you. You must go awayâ€"you must hide yourself." “It’would be no use, they would and me sooner or later, wherever I went." “It I am suspected, there can be no doubt that they wll do so. How It happens that I have not been arrested ere this I cannot imagine." “Ydu do not mean to say that the police will take you?" she cried. start- ing any from me with a gesture of horror. “Gllbert,†she moaned, ‘oome what may. I believe in you. Nothing shall ever convince me that you would have killed the man who so ‘cruelly wrong. ed you. You hamd him: you longed to be revenged on him; but you never would have murdered him when It came to the point.†In mower I drew her closer to me. "Agnes, my good angel." I said; what can I say to you for the com- tort you give me? You have put fresh life into me. It only you believe in me. what do I care for the world? Heaven knows I did not mean to lull the man â€"but still the tact remalns that he ls dew. and through my agency. Though morally I am Innocent, the law would certainly hold me guilty." Aidithué (h; ini'atrter in: concluded. .vStm she did not answer. When I saw this from to mfeet, and in 111?. agony must have turned a little from her. This action evidently decided her, for she sprang up tron: the boul- der on‘ which she had hitherto been sitting, and. with u choking cry, fell into my arms and nabbed upon my shoulder. “Agnes,†I can, “sped! to me. If‘it only be to say how much†u loathe I! me, tell me my fate. advise me as what I mu do. I swear by God that whatever you tell me, that I will t.do without questioning or com- men " t0. to 330' did not reply to £1113. only sat and mocked herself to and fro. her two once more covered ,ln her hands. I knelt beside her, but did not dare, (or V917 shame, to attempt to comfort CHAPTER XII. 1136's? a a enquxrl :tfhag m "1 can ten you 1:: a momom. A m. W- “Inns up a boak from the table ml consulting it. “my. :1 is. TWO thousand cartridges for m xe- m rifles, two hundred {vr :{w M “d a thousand for 12.. 5:: Wet: I have in this drawer." ’. “A good supply, and I congrzztslalf you on It. NOW 1et us get to “717k. , 3‘2““? by“. gun. Mackinnr-n. and 7'“ I led them across the small paddock to my once. and then went on to the house in search of my employer. I found his pacing up and down the verandah. looking rather disturbed. "Wrextord. my dear fellow," he be “Then I must tell Mr. Maybourne at once. Come with me Mackinnon, and you too. Andrews, It you can man- age it. We must hold a council of war and see what's best to be done," “Not more than twenty miles at most, sir. I left my camp on the river about midâ€"day, and I’ve been here about a quarter of an hour. I came_in as hard as I could ride; say ï¬ve hours riding at twelve miles an hour. mak- ing a big detour of about twenty miles. to avoid them. That should make between ï¬fteen and twenty mile! away now if they did ï¬ve miles an hour straight across country.†"And you’re sure they mean war?†“There's not a doubt of it. sir. I know the vermin too well by this time not to be certain of that." “How far do you think they are away from us at the present mogent ?’_’ I stobd tor a few mom thought ents deep in “That I will.†said Macklnnon, “I’ve known you long enough, and always found you a straightforward man.†7 “God strike‘me dead if I’m not,†he “SIM aolemnly._hook at me, I've made my way in here as hard as a man could come, riding for his life. That should be proof enough; but it it isn’t. Mr. Mackinnon here will speak for me. I’m sure." are you telling meithg “I've not much to tell. sir,†said the man addressed. sitting up as he spoke. "It came about like this: I am a pros- pector. and I was out away back on the river there. never dreaming there was mischief in the wind. Then my boys began to drop hints that there was likely to be trouble, and I'd best keep my weather eye open. At ï¬rst I didn't believe them, but when I got back to camp at midday toâ€"day and found both my servants murdered, my bullock: killed, and my rifles and everything else of value stolen, I guessed who had done it. Fortunately, they had passed a without waiting for me, so [got into the saddle again and came here post haste to warn you. I tell you this. the Maiabele are ris- ing. The imp! that murdered my men is under one of the king's sons, and by this time they are not twenty miles distant from this spot. There can be no doubt that they are traveling this way. From what my boys; told me. Buluwayo is surrounded, while three more impia are traveling night and day with the same object as theone Inowwamyouotnameiy. to cutoi! the advance of the troops being push- ed forward to oppose them from the "This man's name.†said Mackin- non. as If he were exhibiting some hu- man curiosity, “is Andrews. He‘s a prospector, and we've been acquent for years. Now tell your yarn, An- drews. and let Mr. Wrexford here see how bad the matter is" " ‘Ye can lead a horse to the water but ye gonna make hlm drink.’ says the proverb," he answered. “Ye can tell a. man of danger, but ye canna make hlm see it. An' so ’twas wlth ye. I told ye m suspicions a fortnight past, but ’ only this mlnute I came to know how had it really was." “And how have you come to hear of lt now!" “Step this way an' I'll show ye." He led me to a small but near the kitchen. 0n reaching lt, he opened it and showed me a man Stretched out upon a bed of sacks and grass. He was a white nun, and seemed utterly exhausted. ‘ “What do you mean? Don't speak In enigma. man. Tell me ‘tralght out what your are driving at.†"Isn’t that what-I'm trying to do?†he said. "I tell ye the whole country’s in a ferment. The Mambele are out, and In a few hours. if not before, we shall have proof of 1g" before 9" “I told ye a fortnight ago that there no trouble brewing for us with the natives.†he said impressively “I warn- ed ye a week ago that, 'twas no better. Now I tell ye its ciose upon 113.. and if we're not‘ prepared, God help us all." . ~ M 66d man!" I cried. “how do you know this? And why did you not make me see the Importance of it separated my garden from the open veldt I stopped. and leaning on the mile. once more asked him why he had called me put. ‘ 515 W " of him flashed 080K upon at} tn {eel the fascination unpaved with his hand. and understanding amt he desxmdmspeaktomeJrosen-om my chair 1111439111: out t_o lynx. AA. ' Aâ€" w'z‘ï¬â€™hwat is it?†I enquired. as I up- pruched him, for at that hour he was genomlly in the depths ot.the mine. "Has anything gone wrong.†.“Thut'u 3: ye care to take my word- ho answered, wheeling about and lead- ing me out of earshot of the house. There me something in his manner that frightened me. though I could not for the life of me have said why. When we reached.the fence that this? On your oath, truth 2†' '***77r~ WT---’ A: I yak“. " W or Iron-:éverythg- “Mm would be likely m xv: “a h mm M into our 59" ‘ that would be “My 10 the enemy for a 11W » ? Mammals hqusewfl ' “ , m that could I: » WWW to the house ‘5 ‘ . ‘, “A good supply, and I con'gWTii‘“e you on It. Now let us get to NY?“ m the mxr. Mackinnon. and little hands lp to the 11011512 1'†to than. and when I‘ve expihmed W on Dune twm “Nineteen VMte men including cur- Ieives. and wont half-a -doz<n :23 they.†ï¬nd how much ammunition have 7 “How many hen capable of ï¬:: '11: a decent shot can we muster"? a Red Kr. Hayboume, when he had cw.“- hauledthe weapons. munition, Wnexford?†“1 1V111 show you." I said, and forth- WIth led the way through the rice into a smaller room at the back. Here I pointed to an arm-rack in Which "anti-two Winchester repeating “30'. a couple of Martini-Henris. and about thirty cuflasses were arranged. “Very well then," continued Mr. Maybomue, when he had heard :‘zzat Ye agreed with him. “in the: case mmmwecando is toform 3 Inger here, and prepare tu hoid out until the troops that I have been told are on their way up can rescue “S- 30' are we all for arms and am make up a. larger force, but our de fences could not be made so Pork“, whne to abandon the mine was an net 191' which none of us were pre- Them could do: be ény doubt about the matter In my opinion. In 1hr 1mm- ahip we should certainly be we _:o “There‘s something In that," 5 Mr. Maybourne, reflectivoly. ".1 now-I am going to ask you ï¬x 1;. Important question of all, gen'fvn; That is, what‘s to be done? 32‘ abandon this place. the mine and ~ buildings will be wrecked for can. At the best we can only much t township, where we can ceminly into blazer. but in my opinion we sh he even worse 0! there than we 2 here. What do you say?" “Roughly speaking, from “'11:: I saw of them from a hill nearly a mile distant, I should say they were mob. ably two thousand strong. They were in full war dress. and from what my servants hgd hinted to me that morn- ing, I gathered that they are it»; by one of the king's sons.†“I don't think there’s a shadow o! a doubt about it, sir. They‘re prob: 13y trying to etfect a junction with 9.1101191“ hunt. and then they'll be ready to re- ceive any troops that may coma up against them from the South." “You have no doubt in your :2: that they are coming this way‘.’ “At what number should \ou esti- mate them?" “My servants were killed by 11.691, and my camp was looted abnut forty miles from this oflice,†replied An- drews, meeting Mr. Maybo'zrne‘s glance without flinching. “I am told that you have seer Matabele under arms toâ€"day," h4 gun. coming straight to the pair; was character-{sac of him. Mr. Mayboume nodded to the for- r and then looked searchingly at e latter. “Steady, Wrexford. for hcavcn's lake." he said. “Not too loud or Ag- nes will hear. We musn't fright en her before we are absolutel} 011111;,(‘d Come to the ofï¬ce and let me 59% this man for myself." Together we walked over to my den where Mackinnon and Andrews were awaiting us. law, this iery minute. If you will ste'p over to my once, I hax'e a man were who has men'the enemy within fo’ny mugs of this place, and he tells me they are advancing in our direction even now." His face. (or an instant. became deadly pale, and I noticed than he glanced anxiously at the sitting-room door. ‘I can tell you In a moment.“ I an- nual. hang up a book from the Q‘fonsumptian Cured , if you have ’ Others “ho ' to dle b" . the ye been sax ed bv †and it will sqc 173 Ma: 8m tic-.1, - Amzsn, “cflmplc Dc. p: 73",â€: - Dr. T. A. 8'03U71 Limi-,. l .V Sold by a?! emriï¬" {Hrmyg} Lil pu’ hon“. germs and flu‘tion is a pox-er- . â€"‘ _ _ but Psvcmxg is au‘werful remedy, waste time and don} 1. hope until you have meg Ewï¬; ti? system inc 1 cases ‘1‘.»7‘" puriï¬es I? 1 and mac'srup the non-er: haustéd tissues. “BREE EEEELEE (mammal) suivggu} SAMPLE LNE TREATZSE FREE Show!» JRN‘UARY 1 11h ’r. We nthe 19 be flflAUGUï¬AL layer Vrooman on Chairmen of 1 Md. 0.3eilly v The inaugural moot! council took place on in‘. All the membe: with Hayor \‘roomn: Amer the 1mmnlwrs hl declarations of qua duimmn of we sew were elected as folluv Finance Conunitu-v, ly; Police and Light G2 IcFadden : Board J. launder ; Manul’m PTOPOSQG by Ald. ed by Ald. MCI- uddon of Ru islon consist o the chairmen of the mittâ€. Carried. During the mevting an 'called auemion Act. relating to up voting,†which he e. on each member whc [mm his seat. "I'm-r tion to the rule. said a show of hands. it! not according to the Aid. O'Reilly thou referred to was only icipalities that had laws. Mayor \'roomanâ€"“' amended in 1903. a over-rules the hy-law sod a long timv ago The Mayor than re further discussion fa Knovn'son suggestvd ment had been addu cret voting. It wa that. the Mayor shun Town Soliciior. and man's opinion of Ila EVENING : Council resumed p.m., all present. E with the general bun stated that lie had Town Solicitor re Lh ing in Council. M1 agreed with him as the vowS. openly I as it is practiced in Commons, but he u: v.3 only necessary for Advertise: Covers L! at! m a. n d Surround! division. The I together satisï¬ed but. as far as PTO CounciIS. there ‘ vv....., them béing nullifn in procedgre. ed during the 60““ From-tho Count.v ' ing a statement of 4 to“ treasurer. A m, R. G. Corneil Council Chamber {0 the Farmers° Mm“! Chamber on "‘9 6th. Granted. Applications for 1 were received from ‘ James Fleury. Tho: Claude“. G. H- Li“ J. J. Miller, ROM. From‘the Town 5 a communication it .omcms asking an at. the Kent and Li} be withdrawn from owing to the small during ‘these houl Board of Works. I? that the Town Sol From E. F. MaS‘ the Finance Comm boro Council. 34 Comcil to aPPOiM. aidepumtion to ask for the SD?“ a renewal of subsc: of Ald. McFaddf'n. gasnirotcd {or the amount was 1!! last year. -â€"ir°m Wm. Stool“ mention of Linda: Volume v Sick Children s review. etc. of SHOWN“ From Stewanx phining of the belonging to Mrs. the south “111d. P 31: Vi‘imrc ther pea; Commissioners r Valley Cami! H. prrie 'l‘llt'li