this fuss yoi might have him; you?- aelf, to say nothing of implicating me. Tomorrow morning I will let. you Ivan-v-- know what is best to be done. In the meantime, remain indoors, feign ill health, and don’t see any strangers on , any pretext whatever.†. He stood at the corner of the Square, and watched me till I had turned the only looked back once, and then walk- ed briskly on until I reached Piccadily Circus, where I halted and gazed about me in a sOrt of dim confused wonderment at my position. What a variety of events had occurred since the previous night, when I had stood in the same place, and had heard the policeman’s whistle sound from Jermyn Street, in proclamation of the second mysterious murder! How little I had then thought that within twen- ty-four hours I should be in the same peril as the murderer of the man I had seen lying under the light of the policeman’s lantern! Perhaps even at this moment Bartrand’s body had been discovered, and a hue and cry was on foot for the man who had done the deed. With this thought in my mind, a greater terror than I had yet felt came over me, and I set off as hard as I could go down a byeâ€"street into Trafalgar Square, thence by way of Northumberland Avenue on to the Embankment. Once there I leant upon the coping and looked down at the dark water slipping along so silently on its way to the sea. Here was my chance if only I had the pluck to avail myself of it. Life had now no hope left for me. Why should I not. , throw myself over, and so escape the fate that must inevitably await me if I lived? One moment’s courage, a little struggling in the icy water, a last choking cry. and then it would all be over and done with, and those who had the misfortune to call themselves my kinsmen would be spared the mor- tiflcation of seeing me standing in a felon’s clock. I craned my neck still further over the side, and looked at the blocks of ice as they went by, knocking against each other with a faint musical sound that sounded like the tinkling of tiny bells. I remember- - ed the depth of the river. and pictur- cd my solemn body stranded on to the mud by the ebbing tide somewhere near the sea. I could fancy the con- jectures that would be made concern- ing it. Would anyone connect me with â€"â€"but there, I could not go on. Nor could I do what I had proposed. Des- ;---rate as was my case, I found I still «lung to life with a tenacity that even crime itself could not lessen. No; by hook or crook I must get out of Eng- land to some place where nobody would know me. and where I could irgin a new life. By cunning it could .vm-ly he managed. But in that case i know l must not ’go back to my 2 mi. and run the risk of seeing Niko- l.. main. 1 distrusted his powers of sax ill: Illi'Z and if I Tell once more un- his innucnt-e. goodness alone knew (19." ‘.'."..;:r i might not be made to do. No; l m-u‘ui make some excuse to the land- 10rd :o account for my absence, and 33:4 :1 (Teen quietly out of England in Slit‘l‘. :1 way that. no one would suspect 1;;1. liili ‘uow was it to be managed? To i'wmz‘in in London would be to run c mums- risks. Anyone might recognize rm: and than capture would be inevi- Yiil‘lt'. l im‘nml out my pockets and (-wlniwtl my money. Fortunately, I lib/ti ('ilSllf‘d a cheque only the day be- i'vuéz and now had nearly forty pounds ix. noiws and gold in my purse; not \w-x'y much, it is true, but amply suï¬iâ€" firm for my present needs. The ques- Hun Was: “here should I go? Austra- liu. ilio l‘nited States, South America, Smith Africa? Which of these places \Vi-lllll he safest? The ï¬rst and second 1 rejected without. consideration. The ï¬rst i had tried. the second I had no (it sire to visit. Chili. the Argentine, or Bcchuanaland? It all depended on the hours To whichever place a vessel sailed ï¬rst, to that place I would go. Casting one last glance at the ice- bound water below me, and with a shudder at the thought of what I had contemplated doing when I ï¬rst ar- rived upon the Embankment, I made my way back into the Strand. It was now close upon three o‘clock, and al- ready a few people were abroad. If I were not out of London within a few hours, I might be caught. I would go directly I had decided what it was im- perative I should know. Up one stree . Anson --_L:I .‘ vw-w.“ . v _ __.- 7, and down another I toiled until at {my in last I came upon what I wanted, a small restaurant in a back street, de- voted to the interests of the early ar- rivals at Covent Garden Market. It was only a tiny place, shabby in the extreme. but as it just suited my pur- Pose. I walked boldly in. and ordered a cup of cocoa and a plate of sausages. While they were being prepared I seated myself in one of the small com- partments along the opposite wall, and with my head upon my hands tried to think coherently. When the proprietor brought me the food. I ask- ed him if he could oblige me with the loan of writing materials. He glanced at me rather queerly. I thought, but did not hesitate to do what I asked. When he had gone again I dipped the pen into the ink and wrote a note to the proprietor of my hotel, telling him that I had been suddenly taken out of town by important business, and ask- ing him to forward my boxes, within a week, to the cloak room, Aberdeen railway station. labelled “to be called for." I chose Aberdeen for the reason that it was a long distance from Lon- don, and also because it struck me that if enquiries were made by the police it would draw attention of! my real route, which would certainly not be in that direction. I then wrote. a cheque for the amount of my account, enclosed it. and having done so seal- ed up the letter and put it in my M. ket. On an adjoining table I espied a newspaper, which I made haste to secure. Turning to the column where the shipping advertisements were dis- played, I searched the list for a veeeel outward bonndtooneottheportll hadchmldhcoveredthattocmli oranyottheSouth not I: Matleeetaweek tmedtoï¬outhmieel m tortunate; 3 mm the museum 3 cstherevonld :‘wm 3 four, becon Lea . me, I Road, strucl Hill, (Continued from last week) l of 3,000 tons burden. but had onlyvac- commodation for ten ï¬rst-class pas- sengers and fifty in the steerage. What pleased me better still, she would only call at Teneriife on the way. The steerage fare was ï¬fteen pounds. and it was by this class I determined to , travel. My mind once made up, the »next thing to decide was how to reach Southampton without incurring suspicion. To catch the boat this could only be done by rail, and to further increase my store of knowledge I had again to borrow from the proprietor of the restaurant. From the time table he lent me I found that a train left ’aterloo every morning at six o’clock, which would get me to the docks be- fore nine o’clock, thus allowing me two full hours in which to make my preparations and to get on board in comfortable time; that is, supposing she sailed at the hour stated. But I had still three hours to put in London before the train would start, and how to cecupy them without running any risk I could not tell. It was quite im- possible for me to remain where I was, and yet to go out and walk about the streets would be dangerous in the extreme. In that time Nikola might, get hold of me again, and I believe I dreaded that more than even falling into the clutches of the law. Suddenly I was struck by what seemed a splen- did idea. What if I walked out of Lon- don to some station along the line where the train would pick me up? In that case no one would be able to re- member seeing me start from Water- loo, and I should be believed to be still in London. The thought was no sooner born in my brain than I picked up my hat and prepared to be off. .. _I 4.1.- -m...+m- fnr mv WHICH L116 ylvylavvv- _. I strode out of the restaurant and down the street into the Strand again. Surbiton, I reflected, was twelve miles from Waterloo, and, besides being quiet, it was also one of the places at which I had noticed that the train was advertised to call. I had almost three hours before me in which to do the distance, and if I walked at the rate of ï¬ve miles an hour it was evi- dent I should accomplish it with ease. To Surbiton, therefore, I would go. Having made my way back to Char- ing Cross, I passed down Whitehall and over Westminster Bridge to the Lambeth Palace Road. Under the in- fluence of my new excitement I felt easier in my mind than I had been since I made my awful discovery three hours before but still not easy enough to be able to pass a policeman without a shudder. Strangely enough, consider- ing that I had no sleep at all. and had been moving about all night, I was not conscious of the least fatigue, but strode along the pavement at a swinging pace. probably doing more than I had intended when I had ï¬rst set out. The snow had ceased, but a .nasty fog was rising from the river to take its place. I pictured the state ‘of London when day should break, and devoutly thanked Heaven that I . should be well out of it by that time. I could imagine the newsboys running about the streets with cries of , “Another ’orrible murder! A million- ialre the victim.†I seemed to see the boards stuck before shop doors with ’ the same ghastly headline, and I could realize the consternation of the town, when it awoke to ï¬nd the ,Ln‘ -5 “9A‘01’ in up w; Mun. w-u ,__._,, When I paid at the counter for my meal, and also for the note paper with which the propriqtor had obliged me, ,A_-_. nag U\\'u, Wucu n. .â€" .v--- 'mysterious assassin still at work in ‘its midst. Then would follow the in- quest. The porter at the Monolith ‘ Club would be called.upon to give evi- adence, and would afï¬rm that he had 3 seen the deceased gentleman step in- “ to a smart hansom, driven bv a cab- ‘ man dressed in an oilskin cap- and a. gsou’wester, and would probably re- ; member having noticed that the cab- ,by was a grufl fellow with a bushy black beard. The next witnesses ; would be the ï¬nders of the body, and ; after that the same verdict would be ;returned-â€"“Wiltu1 murder against l some person or persons unknownâ€â€" ? as had been given in the previous 3 cases. It only Nikola remained faithful to . , L___- “ml. (in an? Ly WULM Uul» Au; â€mv‘ that I could not sit down, but waited until I should be safely on board the train. The cries of the newsboys seem- ed still to be ringing in earsâ€"“Another ’orrible murder! Discovery of the body of a famous millionaire!" To while away the time I went out of the station again and explored the deserted streets, passing houses in which the owners still lay fast asleep, little dreaming o! the miserable man who was tramping along in the cold WC Gnu", uuu vâ€"-â€"â€"-_ row. The leaden hand of despair was pressing hard upon my heart, and when -I looked at the rows of trim. matter-ot-fsct residences on either side of me. and thought of the gulf that separated their inmates from my- self, I moaned aloud in object misery. At ï¬ve minutes to the hour I re- Leaving iny nightmare these last few minutes. I should say, mister,†he observed with s smile. “I was just going to give you a shake when you woke yourself by screaming out like that." An awful fear came over me. Was it possible that in my sleep I had re- vealed my secret? m ._ a-..“ 1 Alatnrhed vou.†I said. Ilnulgc wuuu-uâ€" ..w w--- , in warning; and once more I descend- ed from my seat to make the horrible discovery that my enemy was dead. Tn mv amnv I must have shrieked In my agony I must have snnexec aloud. for the noise I made woke me up. An elderly man. possibly a suc- cessful country butcher from his up pearanoe. Who must have got in at me station we had stopped at while slept, was sitting in the corner ov- posite, yatching me. * L‘Aâ€"- n in“... Md muuu; “Not so far as I’ve heard,†he an- swered; “but you’ve been moaning and gr ning as if you’d got something on you mind that you wanted to hell pretty bad." “I've just got over a severe illness,†I replied, relieved beyond measure to hear that I had kept my dreadful sec- ret to myself, “and I suppose that ac- counts tor the uneasy-way in which I sleep." My companion looked at me rather searchingly for a few seconds, and then began to tumble in his great- coat pocket for something. Presently he produced a large spirit flash. “Let me give you a drop of whis- key,†he said, kindly. “It will cheer you up, and you look as if you want it right down bad.†He poured about half a wineglass- ful into the little nickel-plated cup that ï¬tted the bottom of the flask, and handed it to me. I thanked him sincerely, and tossed it of! at one gulp. It was neat spirit, and ran through my veins like so much ï¬re. Though it burnt my throat pretty se- verely, it did me a world of good, and in a few moments I was sufï¬ciently recovered to talk reasonably enough. At nine o’clock almost to the minute we drew up at Southampton Docks, and then, bidding my fellow passen- ger good morning, I quickly quitted carefully noted the address of the steamship company’s agents, and, having ascertained the direction of their ofï¬ce, I made my way towards it. Early as was the hour I found it open, and upon being interrogated by the clerk behind the counter, stated my desire to book as steerage passen- ger for Cape Town by the steamer Fiji Princess, which they advertised as leaving the docks that day. The clerk looked at me with some sur- prise when I said “steerage,†but, ,whatever he may have thought, he \V slut,» v v. offered no comment upon it. “What is your name?" he inquired, dipping his pen in the ink. I had anticipated this question. and replied “George Wrexford†as prompt- ly as if it had really been my patrony- mic. Having paid the amount ( and received my ticket in I asked what time it would sary for me to be 0;: board. but} LUA “Av yv -V -7. , “Half-past t 11 without fail,†he an- swered. “She will cast 01$ punctually at eleven; and I give you fair warn- ing Captain Hawkins does not wait for anything _qr anybody.†.7 -_....;--.. .ma 101’ any uuue uuuuu . _-i_, I thanked him for his courtesy and left the ofï¬ce. buttoning up my ticket in my pocket as I went down the steps. In four hours at most, all being well, I should be safely out of England; and, for a little while, a free man. By half- past nine I had purchased a small outï¬t. and also the few odds and ends â€"â€"such as bedding and mess utensilsâ€" that I should require on the voyage. This done I hunted about till I found a small restaurant, again in a back street. which I entered and ordered breakfast. As soon as I smelt the cooking I found that I was ravenous, and twice I had to call for more be- fore my hunger was appeased. Towards the end of the meal a pa- per boy put in an appearance, and my heart well-nigh stopped when I heard the girl beyond the counter enquire if there was “any startling news this morning.†.- . ,__3__ I- T A“- my. .--..c,. “ ’Nother terrible murder in Lon- don,†answered the lad with ï¬endish glibness; and as he spoke my over- taxed strength gave way, and I fell back in my chair in a. dead faint. I suppose for a few moments I must have quite lost consciousness, for I can recollect nothing until I opened my eyes and found a small crowd collected round me, somebody spong- ing my forehead, and two people chaf- ing my hands. “How do you feel now?" enquired Hm nnrvmls little man who had ï¬rst in “How do you feel now?" enquired the nervous little man who had ï¬rst come to my assistance. “Better, thank you,†I replied, at the same time endeavoring to sit up. “Very much better. What has been the matter with me?_†- u, -i! n -_-5Ln- do: “m“‘zgm son: any w n ‘6 ' . the amount demanded, my ticket in exchange, time it would be neces- 1! any nun in desirou- at properly understanding the feeling! at grad. tnde and relief which ï¬lled my breast an the F111 Princess steamed down m the same unenmmu w an I knewrto {he 009ml:- . , ‘1.- In the murder. Then. that much, they w ity call at the hate enquiries there b4 as U6 Luc yvn \«v-w station, who ha seen me arrive, tired and dispirited, after my long walk; the old man who had given me whis- key on the journey down: and the people in the restaurant where I had been taken 111 would probably recog- nize me from the description. How- ever, it was in my favor that I was here on the deck of the steamer. it â€"b Inna! frpp nere UH tuc uwwnn ‘7- not devoid of anxiety, at least free from the clutches of the law for the present. , -. ,4- ....... Manonv ï¬ne. present. The afternoon was perfectly ï¬ne, though bitterly cold; overhead stretch- ed a blue sky, with scarcely a cloud from horizon to horizon; the sea was green as grass, and almost as smooth as a millpond. Since luncheon I had seen nothing of the passengers, nor had I troubled to inquire if the vessel carried her full complement. The saloon was situated right aft in the noon. the skipper had his cabin next A L.-_â€"lnn'\n poop, the skipper had ms camu mm. to the chart room on the hurricane deck, and the ofllcers theirs on either side of the engine-room. in the alley ways below. My quartersâ€"I had them all to myself. as I said in the last chapterâ€"were so roomy and comfor- table as a. man could expect for the passage-money I paid, and when I had made friends with the cook and his mate, I knew I should get through 7 _. Minn nnm'nrf Lame dD a. unuu .v..._ _ passage-money I paid, and when I had made friends with the cook and his mate, I knew I should get through the voyage in comparative comfort. At this point I am brought to the narration of the most uncanny portion of my story: a coincidence so strange that it seems almost impossible it can be true, and one for which I have never been able, in any way, to ac- count. Yet, strange as it may appear, deuce any man could desire in the world? It came about in this way. In the middle of the ï¬rst afternoon, as already described, I was sitting smok- ing on the fore hatch, and at the same time talking to the chief stew- ard. He had been to sea, so he told me, since he was quite a lad; and, as I soon discovered, had seen some strange adventures in almost every part of the globe. It soon turned out, , I..- m-.. use. 1‘ twin“! pdlb U}. Luv 5 ....... as is generally the way, that I knew several men with whom he was ac- quainted, and in a few minutes we were upon the most friendly terms. From the sea our conversation changed to China, and in illustration of the character of the waterside people of that peculiar country, my companion narrated a story about a shipmate who had put on! in a sam- â€"_ TVAâ€"â€" pan, to boarid‘ his béat lying in Hon; Kopg harbor, and had never been seen or heard of again. “It wagâ€"iiiu'éer Mg," he said im- pressively, as he shook the ashes out or his pipe and re-chargeq it, “_as queer _.__ _‘_- ,, a. thing as ever a man heard of. I spent the evening with the chay my- self, and before we said ‘good-bye' we arranged to go up to Happy: Valley the Sunday morning following. But he never turned up, nor have I ever set eyes on him from that time to this. Whether he was murdered by the sampan’s crew or whether he tell overboard and was drowned in the harbor, I don't suppose will ever be known.†, “A very strange thing,†I said, as bravely as I could. and instantly thought of the band I had in common with that sampan's crew. “Aye, strange; very strange," re- plied the steward, shaking his head solemnly; "but there's many strange things now-a-days. Look at these here murders that have been going on in London lately. I reckon it would be a wise man as could put an explanation on them." All my blood seemed to rush to my head, and my heart for a second stood still. I suflered agonies or apprehension lest ,he should notice my state and have his suspicions aroused, but he was evidently too much engrossed with his subject to pay any attention to my appearance. I knew I must say something. but my tongue was cleav- ing to the root of my mouth. It was some moments betore I found my voice. and then I said as innocently as They no certsiniy peculiar. sre they not? Hue 'you my theory to so- count for them 2". This was plainly s question to his taste. and it soon became evident thst he had discussed the subject in all its W on seven! ocessious Igefore; “Do you want to know whzt I think?" he began slowly. ï¬xing me with :0 eye that he teamed to imagine bored through me like an 0w. “Wemvhulthlnkhtbtthew chaumatthobotmotltllhmd I'll unjon why._1.90! lljho clasp! nonwï¬owerémMWhon-tho m2AWhmany. uni-Vt ha? 9h. ml! ,9 mâ€"QW' unenviablo 903m†identitY. â€â€˜1 1y have begu consider my st twenty'fo‘" {t line away ‘0 unmcky chance we vol!†# you while bulwu'kl houi‘s. um: ,,A‘_.l in uremic «new! me in In! could tell him better lat victim was? Eunice lLWho IV the .â€" â€"â€"'v_v_“ -7 to do no. Butâ€"heaven help me!â€" Wulvomdhuebeentodo it.Imnotnbietopinnyhim.In- steed. I at before him like n criminal inthedochoonncionnoftbednnger I m running. yet mble for the life of me to overt it. Still. however, my tormentor did not notice my condition. but returned the chase With 79' newed V1801? gm 1" Inked ‘9 â€IE“; mientwhe Bade up in vphgmenogf forneeflyuhourlhuitositmd beer the brunt of both. “Now. I'll uk you a question." he said for the twentieth time, after he had paused to watch the effect of his last point. “Who do the Anarchists mostly goAtor? :Whyfor what we may AL- can. for the sake of argument. the leaders of Societyâ€"generals, peers. and millionaires. Those are the people. therefore. that the! [rant to be rid of.†.L_‘- clcnvuc, wan. u'u; wâ€". w -- -__. -n “You think then." I said, "that these â€"these crimes were the work of 8' party instead of an individual?" He halt closed his eyes and looked at me with an expression upon his face that seemed to implore me to contradict him. Vvâ€"vp â€"_- v . â€". “You know what I think,†hp said; then with ï¬ne conceit, "It only other folk had as much savoe as vye have. .v... â€"â€"_ the fellow: Vihbndid the work would have been laid by the heels by this time. As it is they’ll never catch_then§ “an-v. --., â€"â€" -â€" â€"no, not till the moon's made of cream cheese." With this avowal of his settled opinion he took himself 01!, and left me sitting on the hatch, hoping with all my heart and soul that, it in this lay my chance of safety, the world might long retain its present opinion. While I was ruminating on what he had said, and feeling that I would give ï¬ve years of my life to know ex- actly how matters stood ashore, I chanced to look up at the little cover- ed way on the hurricane deck below the bridge. My heart seemed to stand still. For the moment I thought I must v- ‘â€"v __-i, be asleep and dreaming. for there, gazing across the sea, was the same woman’s face I had seen suspended in mid-air above my cab on the pre- vious night. Astonishing as it may seem, there could be no possible doubt about itâ€"I recognized the expressive eyes, the sweet mouth, and the soft, wavy hair as plainly as if I had known her all my life long. Thinking it was still only a creation of my own fancy. and that in a mo- ment it would fade away as before, I stared hadr at it. resolved, while I had the chance, to still further im- press every feature upon my memory. But it did not vanish as I expected. d j_-_-.. on I rubbed my eyes in an endeavor to ï¬nd out if I were awake or asleep, but that made no dlflerence. She still re- mained. I was quite convinced by this time, however, that she was flesh and blood. But who could she be, and where had I really seen her face be- fore? For something like ï¬ve minutes I watched her, and then for the ï¬rst uâ€"m aha Innlmd down at the dock c o A VI wvâ€"uv vâ€"77, lUl U I watched her, and then for the ï¬rst time she looked down at the dt‘t‘k Where I sat. Suddenly she caught sight of me, and almost at the same instant I saw her give a lilllv $1.11". of astonishmen. Evidently she hm? also seen me in some other plan». b!:? could no more recall it than mxwf. As soon as she had recovormi 1‘ mm her astonishment she glanced rr m the waste of water again and flu ~-. moved away. But even when shu l: ‘ left me I could not for the mo 0." w rid myself of my feeling of .':<ln:tl"â€"" ment. 1 reviewed my past lift in : attempt to remember where l 1w“- met her, but still without snow v While I was wondering. my 1'r'w the chief steward came along' the " u again. I accosted him, and um ‘ he could tell me the name of Hm ‘- ‘ with the wavy brown hair Wl‘nm could see talking to the cat ":ivx --= the door; of the chart house. l:n l: > ed in the direction indicated, and mm an.“ - “Her name is Maybourneâ€"Miss A:- nes Maybourne. Her father is u in’: mine owner at the Cape. so I'm mm. Her mother died about a year mm. i heard the skipper telling a lady at: this morning. and it seems the 1mm young thing felt the loss terribly. She’s been home for a trip with an old uncle to try and cheer her up a bit, and now they are on their way back home again.†- n 1 --:.: u] WU- uvulv woâ€"-â€". “Thank you very much." 1 said. “i have been puzzling over her facc for some time. She’s exactly like some- one I’ve met some time or other. but where, I can’t remember." 011 this introduction me steward favored me with a long account of a cousin of hisâ€"a steward on board an Atlantic linerâ€"who, it would appear. was always being mistaken for other people; to such a length did this mis- fortune earry him that he was once arrested in Liverpool on suspicion of 74_ 4‘.-â€" nsauouvu uâ€" ..â€".--r-_, being a famous forger who was then at large. Whethr he was sentenced and served a term of penal servitude. or whether the mistake was discovered and he was acquitted, I cannot now remember; but I have a faint recol- lection that my friend described it as 1.. -- muvu yuuv oâ€"J ---'â€"_ _- a case that hailed the ingenuity ot Scotland Yard, and raised more than one new point of law, which he. of course, was alone able »to set right in a satisfactory manner. Needless to say. Miss Mnybourne's face continued to excite my wonder and curiosity tor the remainder of the afternoon; and when I saw her the following morninx promenading the hurricane deck in the company of a digniï¬ed _-greyhalred gentleman. with A#j l--- â€"“ ' :wcâ€"lâ€"eâ€"Ini-sï¬â€™avén, shrevid face. who I not down to be her uncle. I discoverâ€" ed that my latex-9st has! Vin no way I __ .__Al- ebeted. This wonderment and myetiflo cation kept me company for longer than I liked. and it was not until we were bidding “good-bye" to the Chen- nel that I determined to give up brood- ing over it end think cbout something else. Once Ole} ï¬nglend .wne properly be- hind us. “4 ye yere_ont onrthe open 111110 “B. â€"‘ wv Wvlv v..- '_ __- ,_ oceen. experiencing the beauties of e true Atlantic mil. end wondering whetourporuonmtobeinthe Bay of Blueâ€. my old nervqueneu re- turned upon me. Thin will be e miter to: wonder when you reflect tint every day wejeye (laying neu- A -‘___ t Viv-i .â€" er our ï¬rst port at all. and ti. Toner- ille I should know whether or not tho polic- ind diooovorod the route I ind taken. it they had. I should ooruinly he crested as soon on the veuei came to anchor. dad he downed .in the Portuguese prison until an odimr 1 MS I ' â€d Wily according to di , ‘1.“ â€may "Wu-[ably prevent Consultant's: imn. “I" M a" to can any Of the80 [m ; mu noâ€? 12:“ _wh|¢h w â€my! the forerunners†imumptm Ccssru 5, 31:3: V31?“ w, should ar'r'lve from Englaifl to ‘1’ charge of me and conduct me home for trial. Again and again I pictured that return, the mortiï¬cation of my relatives, and the excitement of the Press; and several times I calmly deli- , dark night, and thus prevent the de- gradation that would be my portion = if I were taken home and placed upon my trial. However. had I but known . it. I might have spared myself all this 1 anxiety, for the future had something in store for me which I had never taken into consideration. and which was destined to upset all my calcula- tions in a most unexpected fashion. How strange a thing is Fate. and by what small circumstances are the currents of our lives diverted! If I had not had my match-box in my poc- ket on the occasion I am about to des- cribe. what a very diiferent tale I should have had to tell. You must bear with me if I dwell upon it. for it is the one little bit of that portion of my life that I love to remember. It all came about in this way: On the even- ing in question I was standing smok- ing against the port bulwarks between the fore rigging and the steps leading to the hurricane deck. What the ex- act time was I cannot remember. It 'may have been eight, and it might possibly have been half-past: one thing, at any rate. is certain: dinner was over in the saloon, for some of the passengers were promenading the lhurricane deck. My pipe was very ; nearly done, and. having nothing bet- ter to do, I was beginning to think of turning in, when the second oflicer , came out of the alley way and asked ‘ me for a match. He was a civil young fellow of two or three-andotwenty, and when I had furnished him with what he wanted, we fell into conversation. In the course of our yarning he men- tioned the name of the ship upon which he had served his apprentice ship. Then, for the ï¬rst time for many years. I remembered that I had a cousin who had also spent some years aboard her. I mentioned his name, and to my surprise he remembered him perfectly. "Blakeley," he cried; “Charley Blakeley, do you mean? Why, I knew him as well as I knew any man! As ï¬ne a fellow as ever stepped. We made three voyages to China and back together. I've got a photograph of him in my berth now. Come along and see I I l x 1 | i i | I 1 l On this invitation I followed him from my own part of the vessel, down the alley way, past the engine-room, to his qu rters. which were situated at the en . and looked over the after spar deck that separated the poop from the hurricane deck. When I had seen the picture I stood at the door talking to him for some minutes. and while thus engaged saw two ladies and a gentleman come out of the saloon and go up the ladder to the deck above our heads. From where I stood I could hear their voices dis- tinctly, and could not help envying them their happiness. How different was it to my miserable lot! Suddenly there rang out a woman's scream. followed hy another, and then A~.A_Ax-..‘1" it'll “Iv-an. .vâ€"v n vâ€" v a man's'volce simian; frantically, “Help, help! Miss Maybeurne has fallen overboard.†- . 1 LI. r156“ W Lu: null-w, ouu nun w-v-----ï¬ the water from my mouth and looking about me for the girl, could not have taken more than twenty seconds, and yet in it I seemed to live a lifetime. Ahead of me the treat ship towered I!) to the heevene; all around mews- the buck bosom of the ocean. With the stern loekinz down at it in their winking grandeur. For eome moments after I hed come tetheeurheeleouldeeenothingot the girl I had jumped overboard to reeeue. She eeemed to have quite die- l’peued. Then. while on the summit at e ï¬ve. I ought e glimpee of her. end. putting forth 111 my strength. em We her. Eternitiee ensued hetero I meted her. When i did 1 eume euetuny up wee. and put bun-v.- v v v. -v‘-- ‘- The words were scarcely out of his mouth before I had left the alley way, crossed the well. and was climbing the ladder that led to the poop. A second or two later I was at the tam rail. had thrown off my coat, mounted the rail. and. catching sight of a ï¬gure struggling among the cream of the wake aster-n. had-plunged in after her. The whole thing, from the tn. the ï¬rst shriek was uttered until I had risen to the surface. and was blowing loft EH . 5 am hot; rho; shoulders to quite undue. m .Itrunlyuongh. not In tho AIRLML. -~ -.. I! M M 9mm to speak cf the my; 0' Plydiifle, Which I found ‘0 bC a n"*r"('lcus XC‘YI-C “é . W. 1 was taken down with a bad (M which â€wed on my lungs. In fact, I h-Xicve I“: me: free {mom colds {or months pnw‘ious, and 'n'kcd may of the common cure-ails and cm 511) noslnms W m “mi-ed, but obtained no rc'..('f. I had men learned that Ouch remedies are mcrcly palliatix‘e and 90¢ curative Wraï¬ons. Friends adVN‘d Psycllnmmd M taking “‘7ch bottles I became wund and Wong .‘a’m. Scores of my friends hmc hc-vn sax-ed much m .ng with psychinc, and I \‘Clmxlarily g3x‘e W‘Tï¬libsm {0, the publication of this statement. Psychine "can Yb'u 75mm?" I asked, anxious 1y, as I began to tread water. “A little, but not very well." she answered. "I’m afraid I am gating rather tired." up.†“Lenn upon me," I answered not to be afraid; they Mil lower | boat in a few moments, and pick as I, She said no more. but fought hard to keep herself afloat. The weight up on my arm was almost more than} could bear, and I began (.0 fear that it the re cue boat did no: 500:: rick us up th might have their row is: nothing. Then my ears caught the chirp of oars, and the voice of the second oflcer encouraging his met. in their search for us. “I! you can hold on for another three or four minutes,†I said in gasps 'n to my oompagiop, “all will be we'... ‘_. w an; vvâ€"râ€"â€"__ “I will try," shé agswered, bravely; “but I fear I shall lot be able to. My strength 11} quite gone." A4 _:n. _..-. Her clothes were sodden with water, and added greatly to the weight I w to support. Not once, but halts-dozen times, seas, cold as ice, broke over us; and once I was compelled to let go my hold of her. When I rate to the surface again some seconds elapsed before I could ï¬nd her. She had sunk. and by the time I had dived and got my arm round her again she was quite unconscious. The boat was now about thirty yards distant from us, and al- ready the men in her bad sighted us and were pulling with all their strength to our assistance. In another minute or so they would be alongside. but the question was whether I could hold out so long. A minute contained sixty seconds, and each second was an eternity of waiting. When they were near enough to hear my voice I called to them with all my strength to make haste. I saw the bows of the boat come closer and ‘ closer, and could distinctly cliszln'él‘iï¬h the hissing of the water under her bows. - - IAâ€" - llqu CN- UUWD. “It you can hold on for a few see- ondu longer,†shouted the omcer zn command. “we'll get you aboard." I heard the men on the starboard side throw in their oars. I saw the man in the bows lean forward to catch hold of us, and I remember 58!"- ins, “Lift the lady; I can hold on,†and then the bout seemed {0 Mo away, the icy cold water rose higher and higher, and I felt myscu sinkins down, down. down. 081m†“'3 “my _ - . ,t 1..-. ur‘inz out â€*5. an.» my _ and then the 136;; 'seemed away, the icy cold water r051 and higher, and I felt myscx down, down. down, calmly am into the Mack sea, just {up of life as happily as a lizzle c: asleep. â€" ‘ * â€"-- nancnc l‘m cu-JIIVV to tell you that she is 1 rapid progress towards‘ I" u must get well too. and h! entire ship has to 9:1." bravery." '11 say nm ' "I hope they mred. “Anybody could on}: h: ' R- And new, how 1 1 Max here?†(Pronounced Si-keez'z.) asleep. ‘ When I came to my senses agaml found myself lying in a bunk in 8 cabin which was certainly not my pf?- The appointments were deczceczy a neat comfortable, if not luxurious; white-and-gold washstand nxool against the bulkhead, with a large mirror suspended above it. Under the porthole, which was ‘1 small red curtain, was a cushion“ 10¢ker. and at one end of this 100W - 7- 0m- hunt“ clothes. Two menâ€"one 3* 3W†" about my own age. and the other the elderly gentleman with whom I often seen Miss Klau'boufl’e “mug†were standing beside me “asking me eagerly. “711931 I}??? saw that ‘ M recovered consciousness They seemed to consider it a matter for CODW‘J' Iation. ' , --nln do: you: " much. “30 you know us again. do said the younger man. whom recognized as the ship's doctor. do you feel in yourself?" “Not very bright jus? at P-f I answered truthfully. "But 1 doubt I shall be an m; . or two." Then. \thn :1 WOOD“ what had ocoasioned m." ““399 over me. I said. "How is Mls boume? I hope {boy :0: her on safely?†, 7- - Aonr s: “Thanks to .‘" did†said the r discovered latm had suspec‘e‘! “Since they bran; Mt nightâ€"about w ware unconscious {on that we were begin easy about you. But our clever doctor 1 you round at last." _.-.J€nr j‘bc younl her, and at one end handy contrivance rho: Tum menâ€"One (continue a they“ 58‘. noth “AnybOdy Enuld m. how km g ha" vv any-.1“ were near enough to e I called to them with th to make haste. I saw he boat come closer and uld distinctly distinguish L'the water under her medico you. m ." old KP? “'11 S '. MORRISON. urself "" t3: jusf at New†13.,"But 1‘9 no hour OF »emed IO M. ater rose higher : myself 5mm; lmh’ and “may just fading out little child £8315 such 3 â€801‘.“ to 5“ {flank glad hear have m:- ha\" two) 0CD!!! n 1 fln' ? 60“. D'EATH IN Christmas Ska‘ L Little J3C l‘IlS BODY [3 NIno-Year-Old 9 at Beamsville D; of Waterâ€"(301% Was Held Dd Extinct â€"] "' and 1 mmilton. Doc}1 Intyre. the mink-i Intyre. the G. T. ville, was drown morning he WW that had bee: ‘ Christmas preFd‘l no pool that 1234 I140. “'hen the dinner about 1 o‘ but he got undPI flown unit} he d Going Home; Burma. Dev. 2 bone to spend C â€3' here, 'iliiau of age, who ha nearly all hm 1 Ins. A scnrrh M body was and was run ow Me was crushe‘ Widow and thrm Woman I Torontu, ])O«‘. 01 burns rem-n1 in: of a. lamp. ‘ In her 83rd yea xeny Hospital 5 o‘clock. “valve )1 her injurir-c. Man and | Fort \‘K'uynv. 1 attached 10 a P Pennsylvania. 18 phos. Ohio. 31 Honorst and d3 0d, and Mrs. Ba 9 daughter of 1 Couple Th? London. DN‘. '12. o! Elmwm in: In the com Wm thrown in hon. bulking. ’Ilfld. being um flan severe WO! Bur-Rd U! Ironwood. Mk u... killed SI" 0! Iron ore but love! or m. 19â€".‘L-H 20â€"31011 21â€"Sillv 5).: 31â€"].8‘ ‘19 28-â€" 29.. 14â€"! 18â€"1 Dix ()p tnln at light 3! 1 Mon wu . ad sud _W cm! Id Ill. be: mu the m I"