The Ward of King Canute v v A Romance of the Danish Conquest. By OTTHLIE k. LIUENCRANTZ, author of The Thrall ol Uef the Ludty. Copyright, 1903, by A. 0. McOLUHO A OO. CHAPTER I. The Fall of the House of Frode. As the blackness of the midsummer Bight paled, the broken towers and Wrecked walls of the monastery loom ed up dim and stark In the gray light. Through a breach in the moss-grown wall, the first sunbeam sjoie in and pointed a bright fingsr across the cloiser garth at the charred spot in the center, where missals and parch ment rolls had made a roaring fire to warm the invaders' blood-stained hands. As the lark rose through the bright ening air to greet the coming day, a woman in the tunic and cowl of a nun opened what was left of the wicket- gate in the one unbattered wall. She struck a note in perfect harmony with her surroundings, as she stood under the crumbling arch, peering out into the flowering lane. Like the straggling hedges that were half buried under a net of wild roses, red and white, the path was half effaced by grass; but beyond, her eye could follow the straight line of the great "Roman road 6ver marsh and meadow and liill-top. t Between the dark walls of oak and beech, it gleamed as white as the Milky Way. The nun was able to trace its course up the slope of the last hill. Just beyond the crest, a pall of smoke was spread over a burn- lag village. Shivering the nun turned her face back to the desolate peace of the ruins. "Now is it clear to all men why a bloody cloud was hung over the land in the year that Ethelred came to the throne," she said. "I feel as the blessed dead might feel should they be forced to leave the shelter of their graves and look out upon the world." Rising from its knees beside a bed of herbs, a second figure in faded robes approached the $ate. Sister 8exberga was very old, ^ibuch older "Master!" lie muttered. "Master? Have they gone?'" In an instant Sister Wynfreda was on her knees beside him. "Is it the English you mean? Did they beset the castle?" Slowly the man's clouded eyes cleared. "The Sisters--" he /?ur mured. "I had the intention--t<y get to you--but I fell--" His words died away in a whisper, and his eyelids drooped. Sister Sexberga turned again to seek her restorative. Sister Wyn freda leaned over and shook him. "Answer me, first. Where Is your master? And j^bung Fridtjof? And your mistress?" He shrank from her touch with a gasp of pain. "Dead," he muttered. "Dead--at the gate--Frode and the boy--the raven-starvers cut them down like saplings." "And Randalin?" "I heard her scream as the English man seized her--Leofwlnesson had her round the waist--they knocked me on the head, then--I--I--" Again his voice died away. Sister Wynfreda made no attempt to recall him. Mechanically she held his head so that her companion might pour the liquid down his throat. That done, she brought water and band ages, and stood by, absent-eyed and in silence, while Sexberga found his wounds and dressed them. it was the older woman who spoke first. "The fate of this maiden lies heavy on your mind, beloved," she said ten derly; "and I would have you know that my heart also is sorrowful. For all that she is the fruit of darkness, it was permitted by the Lord that Randalin, Frode's daughter, should be born with a light in her soul. It was in my prayers that we might be en abled to feed that light as it were a sacred lamp, to the end that in God's good time the spreading glory of its brightness might deliver her from the shadows forever." * The face under the black locks was the face of Randalin. «han her companion, and her face Was a wrinkled parchment whereon Time had written some terrible les- -aons. She said gently, "We are one with <the dead, beloved sister. Those who 3le under the chancel lay no safer than We, last night, though the Pagans' passing tread shook the ground we lay on, and their songs broke our slum- tiers." The shadows deepened in the eyes of Sister Wynfreda as she turned them back toward the iane, for her patience was not yet ripe to perfect mellow ness. "The peace of the grave can never be mine while my heart is open to the sorrows of others," she answered with sadness. "Sister Sexberga, that was an English band which passed last night. I am in utmost fear for the Dames of Avalcomb." " 'They that take the sword shall perish with the sword,' " the old nun quoted, a litltle sternly. "An English man was despoiled of his lands when Frode the Dane took Avalcomb. If now Frode's turn has come--" Her companion made a gesture of entreaty. "It is not for Frode that I am timorous, dear sister, nor for the boy, Fridtjof; it is for Randalin, his daughter." Sister Sexberga was some time si lent. When at last she spoke, it was but to repeat slowly, "Randalin, his daughter. God pity her!" Sister Wynfreda was no longer lis tening. She had quitted her hold upon the gate and taken a step for ward, straining her eyes. Out of a tall mass of golden bloom at the far ther end of the lane, an arm clad in brown homespun had tossed itself for one delirious instant. Trailing her robes over the daisied grass, the nun came upon a wounded man lying face downward in the tangle. When the united strength of the four arms had turned the limp weight upon its back, a cry of astonishment rose from each throat. "The woodward of Avalcomb!" "The hand of the Lord hath fallen!" After a moment the younger woman •aid in a trembling voice, "The whis per in my heart spoke truly. Dearest Bister, put your arm under here, and we will get him to his feet and bring him in, and he wi^ tell us what has happened. See! He is shaking off his swoon. After he has swallowed Bome of your wine, he will be able to speak and tell us." It was muscle-breaking work for women's backs, for though he tried in stinctively to obey their directions, the man was scarcely conscious; his arms were like lead yokes upon his supporters' shoulders. Just within the gate their strength gave out, and they were forced to put him down among % the spicy herbs. There, as one was ' pullinp off her threadbare cloak to make him a pillow, and the other was •' starting after her ̂ cordial, he opened his eyes that a great jest and laughed. Whll* they were shouting I slipped between them and got up the stairs into chamber, where i bolted the door and would not open to them, though they pounded their fists sore and cursed at me. At last they began to laugh and jeer, and called to me they would go down and drink my wedding toast before they broke in. the door and ' fetched me; and then they betook themselves to feasting." Sister Wynfreda bent her head to murmur a prayer: "God forgive me if I have lacked charity in my judg ment on the Pagans! If they who have seen the light can do such deeds, what can be expected of those who yet labor, under the curse of dark ness?" "I do not understand you," Randa lin said wearily, sinking on the grass and passing her hands over her strain ed eyes. "When a man looks with eyes of longing upon another maa's property, It is to be expected that he will do as much evil as luck allows him. Though he has got Baddeby, Norman was covetous of Avalcomb. When his lord, Edrlc Jarl, was still King Edmund's man, he twice beset the castle, and my father twice held it against him. And his greed was such that he could not stay away even after E4ric had become the man of Canute." It was the nun's turn for bewilder ment. "The man of Canute? Edric of Mercia, who is married to the King's sister? It cannot be that you know what you say!" "Certainly I know what I say," the girl returned a little impatiently. "All English lords are fraudulent; men can see that by the state of the country. Though he be thrice kinsman to the English Ki.i£, Edric Jarl has Joined the host <>; Canute of Denmark; and all his men have followed him. But even that agreement could not hold Norman back from Avalcomb. He lay hidden near the gate till he saw my father come, in the dusk, from hunting, when he fell upon him and slew him, and forced an entrance--the nithing! When he had five-and-fifty men and my father but twelve!" She paused, with set lips and head flung high. The nun got down stiffly beside her and laid a gentle hand upon upon her knee. "Think not of it, my daughter," she urged. "Think of your present need and of what it behooves us to do. Tell me how you escaped from the cham ber, and why you wear these clothes.' (To be continued.) In the chapel four feeble old voices raised a chant that trembled and shook like a quivering heart-string. Tremulously sweet it drifted out over the garden and blended witfi the aroma in the air. The wounded man smiled through his pain. The caant ceased, the wavering treble dying away in a nete of haunt ing sweetness. The man moaned and clutched at his wound; and the bowed figure by his side roused herself to tend him. Then a grating of rusty hinges made her turn her head. Under the crumbling arch, relieved against the green of the lane beyond, stood the figure of a slender boy wrapped in a mantle of scarlet that bore a strangely familiar look. Sister Wynfreda rose and took a step forward, staring at him in bewild erment. "Fridtjof?" she questioned. At the sound of her voice, the boy turned and hastened toward her. Then a great cry burst from Sister Wyn freda, for the face under the black locks was the face of Randalin. She made a convincing boy, this daughter of the Vikings. . Though she was sixteen, her graceful body had re tained most of the lines and slender curves of childhood; and she was long of limb and broad of shoulder. A life out-of-doors had given to her slun a tone of warm brown, which, in a land that expected women to be lily-fair, was like a mask added to her dis guise. The blackness of her hair was equally unconnected with Northern dreams of beautiful maidens. Some fair-tressed ancestor back in the past must have qualified his blood from the veins of an Irish captive: in no other way could one account for those locks, and for her eyes that wore of the grayish blue of iris petals. The eyes were a little staring this morning, as though still stretched wide with the horror of the things they had looked upon; and all the glowing red blood had ebbed away from the brown cheeks. She said in a low voice. "My fathej^ . . . Fridtjof . . then stopped to draw a long hard breath through her set teeth. Sister Wynfreda ran to the girl and caught her tremblingly by the hands. "Praise the Lord that you are de livered whole to me!" she breathed. "Gram told us--that they had taken you." Gazing at her out of horror-filled eyes, Randalin stood quite still in her embrace. Her story came from her in Jerks, and each fragment seemed to leave her breathless, though she spoke slowly. "I broke away," she said. "They stood around me in a ring. Norman Leofwlnesson said he would carry me before a priest and marry me, so that Avaloomb might be his lawfully, whichever king got the victory. I said by no means would I wed him; sooner would I slay him. All thought SHE WANTED TO KNOW Then When She Found Out All About It She Was Unhappy. "John Billus, I found this photo graph in the inside pocket of an old vest of yours hanging up in the closet. I'd like an explanation. Whose is it?" "Can't you see it's an old picture, Maria? What's the use of stirring up memories that--" "I want to know whose picture that is." "Rather a pleasant-faced girl, isn't she?" "I want to know her name." ^ "No jealous tury in that counte nance, is there?" "Whose is it?" "It's a portrait of a girl I used to think a great deal of, and--" "Her name, sir?" "Well, you sat for it yourself, Maria, about rineteen years ago; but to tell the truth I always did think the pleasing expression was a little overdone. Put on tyour spectacles and look at it again, and then com pare it with the reflection in that mir- ror over there and see--what are you getting mad about?" How Success Succeed*. Col. Weis was once at Carlsbad with the treasurer of a Cincinnati brewery. There is a system of "Kur tax" in Carlsbad. You pay from $5 to $10 if you stay over a week, the fund going to defray music and improvement ex penses. It is plain robbery, but can't be avoided. The tax Is graded ac cording to your wealth or income, and the wily Bohemians generally know who's who. They came to Wels and asked his occupation. "I'm in the express business." "Vat's dat?" "Oh, we deliver packages, you know." So they put Weis down as a wagon driver ^nd assessed him the very lowest, although he draws $36,000 a year. The brewery employe gave his occupation and was hit for the high est tax, although his salary was but $5,000 a year--Philadelphia Ledger. Improve the Canals. A movement has been started in several centers in Europe to improve the canals, which hive been neglected through the influence of the railroads, just as they have in many American states. There are in France 3,000 miles of canals. Belgium has 1,242 miles of canals and other waterways. In Hol land the canals are put to more gen eral use than they are in other coun tries. In England there are 3,907 miles of canals, and it has been pointed out that the railway companies own 1,376 miles of these canals. The railroad companies keep the canal rates so high that there is no competition be tween the canals and the railroads. There are few canals in any country that are not fifty years behind the times. 8alary Regular, Anyhow. George Gilliland, now secretary to Senator W. H. Clark, of Montana, was for six years secretary and political adviser to the late Senator Brice, also a millionaire. One day Gilliland was at the White House and President Mc- Kinley asked him: "What are you doing now, George." "Oh, I'm in the senate again." "How's that?" asked McKinley. "I'm secretary to Senator Clark of Montana." "Well, George," said McKinley, "you certainly display pooi jnr'^rnent in picking out your employers." CHILDREN BURN OR DROWN ... :if T ' V TVi, Qytet* One Thbus&nd Sunday School Exttiirsicin- ' ists Meet Death on Flaming Steamer In Hell Gate* New York Over 1,000 persons, according to tfee coroner's estimate, lost their lives June 15 by the burning of the excur sion steamer (Jen. Slocum In Long Island sound while off Ricker's Island and in plain view of New York city and Long Island shores. The disaster was appalling in Its Immensity, dramatic in its episodes, and deeply pathetic in the tender age of most of its victims. The scenes during and after the catastrophe were the kind that make the heart sick. Mothers huggings their children to their breasts in love and terror were forced to choose be- twen certain death in the flames and almost equally certain death ia the water. Some, made frantic by their sudden peril, thrdw their babes into the whirling waters of Hell Gate, hoping doubtless for Improbable rescue, while many were not allowed the poor privilege of choosing, but were forced overboard by the mad rush of the panic stricken passengers in their efforts to get away from the flames. ^ The Slocum, with the annual Sun day school excursion of St. Mark's German Lutheran church on board, was proceeding up the river to one of the many resorts of Long Island sound. When near One Hundred and Twenty-fifth street persons on shore saw smoke and flames spring from the upper part of the crowded steam- doomed steamer were children, and there was little hope fcr them after they had gone overboard. The current in the East river at this point is very strong, and scores of little ones were sucked in by the whirlpools at Hell Gate. One man who went out in a row boat said that he saw at least fifty children perish in these whilpools be fore he could reach them. By the time the Slocum reached One Hundred and Thirty-fifth street the excursionists, driven to the rail, many of them with their clothing on tire, began to jump overboard by twos and threes. When One Hundred and Thirty-eighth street had been reached the heat from the flre had become so intense that men, women and children plunged overboard by the score. There was a terrific crash when the boat was beached. It is said the flre started in the lunch counter in the forward part oi the boat. When the alarm spread among the passengers the hurricane deck was crowded and when off One Hundred ahd Thirty-eighth street this deck collapsed. A tug of the New York Central railroad saved nearly a score through the heroism of some unknown man. This man stood on the paddle wheel box of the Slocum and passed women and children to the tug until he was driven back by the flames. He then jumped into the tug himself. THE BURNING BOAT DRIFTING DOWN THE RIVER. Double Vision. "See here," exclaimed Benedick's friend, "you'll have to„ give' up your old ideas of seeing life. You're not single any more." "Zhat's all right," gurgled Benedick. "I don't shee shingle, eizher; she* doubk." I \l Hurried sketch of scene by a New Yo rk newspaper artist. er. A panic ensued on the boat almost instantly. Owing to the rocks on either side of the channel at this point, it had been impossible to beach the vessel. The captain stuck to his post at the wheel and headed the vessel straight up the river for North Brother island, wliere she was put aground in shal low water. Several hundred feet of open water still lay between the burning steamer and the shore and many persons per ished either in the water or on the burning vessel after she had been beached. It was estimated that the steamer carried more than 2,000 per sons. She • was the largest excursion steamer in these waters and could carry 4,000 passengers. The boat caught flre in Hell Gate and the flames had complete control before any move could be made to check them. Frightful scenes of panic followed. It was impossible to run the, boat ashore, because of the Hell Gate rocks on either side, and the captain kept her headed for North Brother island Nothing could be done in the way of launching boats, and as the flames advanced the passengers began to jump overboard. They went into the river by hundreds. Many were rescued by tugs and other vessels, which promptly came to the rescue when the flames were seen. An eyewitness said that the great est loss of life was due to the col lapsing of the heavy upper deck. It fell with a crash soon after the flre started, crushing hundreds of persons who had gathered on the lower deck. It was then that the greatest panic ensued amid the living stream of per sons going over the rail into the wa ter. A large part of the crowd on the Three Types in Clubs. The frequenters of the clubs may be divided into three classes. The billiard and bowling room crowd, who pass all their time In the club play ing their favorite game or watching others when the tables and alleys are occupied; the card-room set, who only come to the club for the purpose of a game of poker or a rubber of whist; and finally, the window co terie, which embraces all the loiter ers and habitues, who naturally fre quent the windows as the pleasantest seats. Declined With Thanks. At a meeting of the medical faculty of Queen's University, Ontario, a pro posal was received from a man in need of money to mortgage his body to the institution. The communication was shelved. V* Cost of Maintaining Battleship. In a parliamentary answer the sec retary to the British admiralty gives the average annual cost of maintain ing a first-class battleship of 13,000 tons as £94,000. Neither police nor firemen when they arrived waited to remove coats or clothes, but Jumped overboard and saved a great many who would other wise have drowned. Many of the bodies recovered were horribly burned. Every man on board «who could swim went overboard loaded down with children. Many of these heroes lost their lives, because, burdened a« they were, they could make no head way against the overpowering swirl of the tide, as it rushes from the Ea«t river into the sound. John Edell, 22 years old, one of the survivors (ft the disaster, gave the following account of his terrible ex perience, his mother and little broth er being drowned before his eyes: "When we left the pier the decks were packed to the limit of their ca pacity. "As we neared Hell Gate children were called down to the. lower deck, where . ice cream and soda were served. "Suddenly and without the least warning there was a burst of flame from the furnace room that rushed uf through the engine room and flashed out about us. The flames spread with the rapidity of an explosion, setting fire to the clothing of the women and children who were grouped about the engine room watching the machinery. "There was the most terrible panic as the burning women and children rushed out among those surrounding the ice cream and soda waj^er tables, screaming with pain. "In the terrific scramble my motheT and little brother were swept from me and carried toward the side where the children and women, with tbeir clothes burning, had begun to jump into the water. The flames spread In bursts that soon had the entire deck enveloped." Making Fake Jewels. "The making of fake jewels?" a lapi dary said, "is an interesting study. Do you know what the best fake pearls are made of? They are made of fish scales--silvery and iridescent fish scales pasted on the inside of balls of glass. The fish the scales come from is called in France the ablette, and in England the bleak. It is small er than a minnow. Its scales must- be picked off by hand, and only a small portion of them can be used. It takes 18,000 ablettes, or bleaks, to yield one pound of scales." PATHETIC SCENES At JMORGV^ F rantii Mothers Search for Child Victims of the General Slocum Disaster--Many Crazed by Grief With its limited space the New York morgue could not begin to ac commodate the silent forms which came to Its doors as a result of the appalling disaster to the steamer Gen eral Slocum, June 15, and it extended its grim jurisdiction to the long pier at the foot of Bast Twenty-sixth street, along which there are now two long lines of plain plank coffins, with an aisle between, down and up which the sobbing fathers, mothers and children walk In thafcjsearch for their dead. ^ Mothers with their infants so tight ly clasped to their breasts that they could hardly be taken away; little girls, their holiday finery bedraggled by the cruel waters of the river and scorched by the flames, still holding to their breasts their little dolls; one especially, a curly-headed little boy, whose dead hands still fondly held a little tin horse, the leash string of which dangled pathetically over the edge of the rude coffin; strong men, too, whose torn hands and bruised faces show well that they did their whole duty--all these were lying silent. ' Upon these looked the living with the lad, uttered in no gentle tones, rang discordantly on ears trained all night and day to sobs and shrieks of misery, but 'it was soon understood. One look at Troell showed him to be a madman, and he was gently taken away by a policeman. In a box near the head of the pier w<s a woman of middle age. A young er woman looked for a second on the dead, then leaped to the open door at the head of the pier and made a dash for the river. A policeman clutched her skirts, and she was haul ed back to safety. She was Mrs. Kate Diamond, and the woman in the cof fin was her mother, Mrs. Kate Bir- mingham, who had lost her life vain ly trying to save her two young grandchildren. Such scenes were by no means un common. Many in a moment of un controllable grief saw a speedy relief in the river which had cost them so much. Women Display Heroism. prominent among the heroic victims of^ihe General Slocum was Mrs. Kate Birmingham, 72 years old. With her in death are her two little grand- EXCUR^ION STEAMER GENERAL SLOCUM. (Vessel Burned in Hell Cate, East River, With Great Loss of Life.) distress on their faces that it was not good to see. They peered into the coffins with almost insane eyes; a shriek, a moan, the sound of a falling woman or a hoarse shout of a man announced that some one had found his dead. Policemen with wet eyes but firmly set teeth stood guard. Time and again they saved women, who, crazed with grief, made a plunge for the river. Attempts at suicide were so frequent at the long death pier that they ceased to be a novelty. Amid these scenes of agony the undertakers developed a shameless rivalry for business, which even the police were unable to curb. Like "shyster" lawyers, they had their run ners and ambulance chasers, and there were actual squabbles at times over the dead. Henry Hardincamp found his little sister Mary among the dead. June 16 a score of this child's friends were to have gathered at her bome to cele brate her eleventh birthday, and the child had talked all the week of the unusual happiness of the two days of pleasure; a picnic one day and a birthday party the next. Henry found the child in her little pine box and, throwing himself across the body, refused to leave and fiercely fought the men who tried to tear him away. Albert Troell went through the line with his wife Anna, looking fpr Bert, their 13-year-ola boy. They found him at last, and while the mother fell fainting on the floor the father's eyes took a queer look. He kneeled be side the box, chafed the boy's ears, and in a stern tone ordered him to get up. His peremptory commands to children, a boy of 7 and a girl of 5. The devoted grandmother lost her life in trying to save the children of her son. The grandmother gathered the two little ones in her arms at the first alarm of fire. As the flames swept aft the aged woman dropped to her knees on the deck and wrapped her skirts about the children in an effort to shield them from the flames. "Never mind me," she cried to the rescuers. "It doesn't make any differ ence about me. Come and get the children." At that moment there was a mad dened rush to the stern of the boat on the upper deck. The weight was more thau the deck would stand, and it fell with a crash. Mrs. Birmingham was struck by a piece of the wreckage and crushed to death, and the two little ones met the same fate. Among those who merit praise for heroism in the work of rescue is Mary McCann, aged 17 years, who recently landed here from Ireland, and who is employed as a waitress on North Brother island. Four times she swam out from the shore to the side of the burning boat and each time she re turned with a little child in her arms. She was going out the fifth time when one of the doctors caught her and or dered her to go up on the grass and lie down. The girl was so exhausted she could hardly stand. v "It made me crazy,' she said, "to see those little one3 in the water. I never knew I could swim, so well be fore. I am sure I could have gone out again and brought one of those babies back if the doctor had not stopped me." v e-«- DALL tssX' Natural. "Sometimes," said Uncle Eben, "a man sits on de do' steps an' thinks he's smaht enough to run de gov'- ment, when he ain't got Judgment enough to keep de cow out'n de gar den."--Washington Star. Profit From Waste Paper. The city of Glasgow makes $7,500 a year profit out of waste paper col lected in the streets. Liverpool has now decided to add to its income lQ the same manner. Map Showing That Portion of the E ast River Where the General Slocum Was Burned and Hundreds of Lives Sacriced. One Left in Family of Ten. Only one person remains alive of a family party of ten on the General Slocum. It included Henry C. Schnude, receiving teller for Kountz Brothers, his wife and two children, and his father and mother, the wife and two children of Mr. Tonipert, an employe of the Chase National Bank, and a relative of Mr. Schnude. All these are dead. The onlv one of the party saved was Miss Nettie Kasse- baum, a sister of Mrs. Schnude. She is in the Harlem hospital suffering from* shock and a broken leg. Boy Stricken Dumb by Ordeal. Because of the ordeal he went through Henry Heintz, 12 years old, •who lost his mother, his aunt, Han nah Ludermann, and his sister Louise on the Slocum, is dumb. He and his brother George were saved. They stood on the middle deck until it became too hot, when they Jumped into the water. Henry held on to the paddle wheel and was res cued by men in a iug. When he re covered from the first shock he conld not speak. British Admiral 8 Months Old. The youngest British admiral is only 8 months old. The infant marquis of Donegal is the hereditary lord high admiral of Lough, Neagh, but the office carries with it neither emoluments nor du ties. It is an obsolete naval com mand, which dates from the time of Queen Elizabeth, when it was neces sary to maintain a naval force on Lough Neagh 1o overawe the natives of Tyrone, Derry, Armagh and An trim, with whom several actions were fought. Keeping the Barber Quiet. At the Democratic state conven tion held in Albany a few weeks ago David B. Hill was busy every moment of the day. Toward evening he thought he would secure a few mo ments' respite and a little rest while being shaved. As he climbed into the barber's chair he handed the ton- sorial artist a quarter of a dollar. "Is this a tip, sir?" inquired the knight of the shears. "No," replied Mr. Hill, that's hush money. Now, not • word!"