+ THE BATTLE | WON. = CHAPTER. XXIX. DR. MEREDITZI. As Nessa_r.ccovered-consciousness, she | the roll of drums and the strident outburst of brass opening the triumphal march to which, the night before, she had been led to her place of honour, followed by a thunder of applause’ that drowned the music, Butit came from a distance, that music, like the sounds ino dream, and the stamping of feet and ce sat wal io came from above, an¢ was bewildered with astrange sense of immobilit mae Fen What had happened ? i she > fa len 3 asleep? eante rooms of the arena, and she ee iin dows I shall be late !” she cried in terror. “They can’t do without me. I am called—” she stopped abruptly. Something choked her, leaving 4 inky taste in her mouth when she swallowed. There was a number of * voices quite close toher. She recognised the voice of Fergus as he a ina tone of fervent gratitude, “That God ! “¥ mm must not speak. Lie still. Be calm,” said a voice, low and soft, in firm, measured po that commanded obedience. Who was it spoke? She blinked her eyes to sen £ Shera of the film that obscured sight. There was a circle of men about eg and one kneeling by ier side who pressed a sponge tothe lower corner of her mouth as he held her head in tie hollow of his arm. She did not know the man; he was not one of the company. He h beard. It was stilla continuation o dream. Butthe music rising now as the applause subsided reminded her of the part she should be playing. “Im ust 0!" she caucanrced, in plaintive ought to be on the steps. Don't : se hear choos She stopped again, for, as she struggled to raise herself, a terrible pang shot through her fboity, while a tresh rising of blood from her throat wiselolens her and made her giddy and utterly hel The col: fs ge was wi tenderly from her brow, while the same low voice said— *€ You have been thrown from ane horse and hurt. You must not try to move.’ Then it all caine back to her: the arena, the open course before her, the chariot ahead in the inner course, the voice of Fergus as she rushed past, crying ‘‘ Now, now !" the effrontery of Mrs. Redmond, sure of victory taking the outer edge of.the course to ac d to her triumph, and almost in the same moment as she was putting «i Msperance to her full speed, tie sweeping round of the chariot right cross ber cocrse and not a length in advance, the fall of her mare, a terrible blow from one of the hoofs of the overturned chariot horses that seemed to break her body in tw, and the fading away of that awful shriek which rose from the audience. She wouttared what injury it was she had received. At every breath she felt that pain shoot through her body. What was e meaning of the blood that flowed into her mouth, hot and muse: sting—of the cold sweat that chilled her as she dying? Was it nearly over—the ‘short life so full of triumph and joy?) Or was she only maimed and cr rushed stlaSiarore dand crippled for ever, never again to hear the shouta of ap- plauSe and receive the homage ot admiring throngs? Oh! better die now than live on to remember a joy which could never re- turn As these memories aud speculations ran through her mind, she lay quite still, with her eyes closed, bg ifthe eternal sleep was rtealing upon her. Thesioctor’s sponge had taken the colour off ier cheek ; her pallor, her stillness, the wacen set of her features looked so like death: that 2 significant glance was exchanged between oie the speechless n en that surrounded her. And yet there was no visible sign of fatal injury except the thin line of blood that crept from the corner of her half-ciose.1 mouth. Almost as colourless as she, Fe rim s bent down and, unable to contro! his feelings, meen) in a faltering, imploring voi ¢ — “It’s al ‘right, my poor girl, e made no answer; she had not the strength to open her eyes, but there was uffering in her face, and pain contracted her pretty brows. In horrible contrast with the silence of the grief- stricken group, a strain of lively music came ine sien burst through an opening door, and the amlicuce in the gal- [6 lery above renewe!l their applause at some incident in the arena. A tear ran down Nesse's cheek and her lip quivered. “They have eeu me already,” she aid, with a faint « isn't it?” aint another of | P ev could ioe be mars of the ap firs. Vie’s. No; oi had = parm Toog ago —that a, certain; but where was now? She felt that abe must be very thick- headed uot to know that. Indeed, her intellect did seen to be in that state when she drank c mAnipeNpe, after her first great | 4 success, To be sure! She was an eques- trienne at the International. ‘Blue and White wins!”—and she was ue an White. If she could dnly get her head a little clearer, she would be able to make out exactly where she was. She turned, wi the resolution of waking up thoroughly and a| Settling the questions that perplexed her; i] | but at the first movement a du ll pain in her side bronght k a flood of recotlections that for the moment took away all power of reasoning—of breathing, almost. meee rnd her ideas grouped themselves into two dis- a pictures—the arene with the pont eeping round the course, and the ante in with its whitened walls and ceiling and flaring gas, and chs circle of silent, awe- stricken tnen about he e knew that her ody was injured. She felt that it was encased in a rigid corset of some kind ; and furtively she raised her arm, not without difficulty, to her face, with and disfigured. Slight as the movement was, it attracted the attention of her nurse, who sat near one of the windows a little beyond Nessa’s range of vision, readin She came to the bedside—a young lady, not more than twenty-six, Nessa thought, tall and thin, dressed with a rimpliety that would have been severe on any one less gentle than she looked. While N com with her hand still upon her cheek, looked up, making these few mental notes, her nurse scanned her face with earnest anxiety; then. with a flush of pleasure, she said— he doctor said you would wake this morning, and you are awake, dear. Your eyes are clear and steadfast. But you are parched with thirst, aren't you ? Nessa moved her head aflirmativ ely. ‘‘T have something ready for you. Don’t rise,” said the nurse, taking a glass from the adjacent table and bending down ~~ Nessa. ee, you can drink easily thro this tube. You must let us treat you like a little child for just a few da: Nessa felt like a little a eek and Nessa’s cur ioaity revived, and she asked i in a feeble voice “Where amI? Not in « hospital—no?” ‘‘No—you are in my rooms. And who am at want to know : well, lam Grace Arn- ’ “Idon't know you. I can't remember your name in the proienniae-—Ciads Arnold —there are so many of us. ‘‘Tamnot in your co ompany, dear,” said Miss Arnold, laughing. ‘They wouldn’t saline! Look at me. Wy rho would come to ne 7 we she sale herself UP, Caeaing her face to the light that Nessa m er. She w: too thin, her teeth were rhein si her fae was long, and her beauty, if she had any, not at all of the type found at the Interna- tional ; but Nessa thought that she looked more lovable than any one she had ever known. “And if one is not very pretty,” ued Miss Arnold, ‘‘one must be clever, an Iam neither. No, soir I am pothiag but Grace Arnold yet aw Something in the inch of her face-and the expression in those two last.words seemed to indicate that she was ambitious of being something more. ‘Where is Mrs. Redmond?) Why am I in your house?” essa asked, after a contin- use. ‘You needed attentive nursing —more thau Mrs. Redmond could possibly give, and Mr. Fergus did not wish you to be taken a hospital, so Mr. Meredith was good enough to bring you to me, knowing that I have nothing to do and that I am fond of nurs- a Who is Mr, Meredith?” Miss Arnold's face flushed, and she seemed o find a difficulty in choosing words for her reply. ‘He is a doctor, dear ; very wise and very kind and good, and thoughtful. He was at the International when your accident happened, and happily he was able to be o great service toyon. He knew what todo and what surgeon to send for, though Idon’'t think any can be more clever than he, and I think you owe your life +o him, dear.’ “Am I—am I very much injured ?” Nessa asked, falteringly. “It was avery grave accident. A bone The doctor rais-: oe his hand warningly as Fergus was about to speak, for he had reason to fear that the alizhtest excitement might produce fatal hemorrage. Even at that mo- ment a fresh round Ts applause caused the —— girl to writie jnvoluntarily under e smart of ingratitii de, and a aha arp cry of | in was choked by a renewed low of blood pain the ruptured lung. It seemed to Nessa im her delirium that ; the a eruel crow re was stamping r poor, crusher is “What have I done” ¥ hat have I done to harm you that you should so ill-treat me?” she ae Duan, attempting to stretch out her or mercy to those she had joved, and who had once loved her. The pain at her heart was more than she could bear, and all became dark and confused with the | fading eid of iareaaaameadl | One _— she awoke to find herself lying in astrange bedroom. She could not make it out at all. There were two win dows facing the foot of her bed. The blinds were down, but the sun was bright upon them. It pee be quite late, yet she felt very tired and sleepy —so sleepy that ahe dozed off in the vain attempt to recollect whether rehearsal to attend to- = was much to neat and orderly for that, reflected, with a painful consciousness thes she had been getting more and more untidy and careless yf late There were French hangings to the bed with ao crisp, in. | terrible anxie was crushed inward—there, at your side. And then you were taken with fever, and for many, many days you have beer unconscious, lying like one inutroubled sleep. But he said yeu would wake to-day, and you have and all. the danger is passed, and you will get well again a if-—" She stopped a! ply for Nessa had er sight of her own hand lying. on the coverlet and waa now looking at it aghast as she held it up to the li * Look, loo! said she, = abovea whisper; ‘‘ this is not my h Miss Arnold cast a sw ‘. seeutiniblng glance at her face, fearing that the excite- ment of talking had pr roduosd a return of io delirium. ~ res, dear, it is your hand,” said Miss Arnold, taking it gently it inherown. ‘You can feel mine, can't you? “‘But there is nothing of it. I could see my bones through the skin, Bring me a glass—bring me a glass,” cried Nessa, with ety Misa Arnold saw that the best thing she could do was to comply, and perrpd bro a hand glass, which she herself held ‘thee Nessa’s face. The girl looked in awe an wonder at her shrunk face, terrified by the wildness in her own eyes, and then, pushing ue glass away, burst into tears, covering her face with her ecmanitted hand. t was all over : her beauty was quite gone —colour and form, all gone! Nothing but two great Pi there _ stood out like some monstrous caricature. They would never take an back “" the International. frilled edging. The window curtains were ag prettily—not at ics: were allowed to hang anyhow. like her own, | fingers Laorre tenderly over her head, heard It was allover. She felt Miss Arnold’s soft but she could not take comfort. It was too ith | Pretty and daring as I. was a horrible fear of finding that also crushed | 2 STeY of life was lost, and ahe coul he could think of no fell ief was exhausted, but her train ty thought was eorieaapr 3; only when she awoke it seemed to er-that she- re | Had realized ate positions and Tron ught her mind to reas on pelea her condition. h | She knew Mi Miss Arnold was by the bedside, but she kept her oyes closed that she might think undistur “J shall have to make u th like the other girls now,” thought ea o- _ ebepectey will take me back. : They won't wantme, I Gareaay er Ye got some- body else in my p' one just as "YT am forgotten ere perhaps by ht murmur ms el at the bedside A gentleman Arnold who -dhie talking about her. At first Meredith, but this opinion was shaken by is appearance. He did not look like a doctor—certainly not like the wise, benevo- lent, white-haired, elderly gentleman she had figured from Miss Arnold’s words. This gentleman was young—not more than thirty or thirty-two, tall and straight, Adnan shouldered and deep chested, with short, close anal hair, a beard trimmed . a ong, fair moustache. He wore acket, and a flannel shirt with a turn- Tas collar that showed his sunburnt neck, and his silk handkerchief was tied carelessly in a loose knot. In one hand he held a pot of lilies of the valley ; the other hand rested on Miss Arnold's shoulder, as he listened attentively to what shesaid. It was more probable that he was her brother by his manner, and, like o her, had no fixed — — and nodded shoorfall. Now ecided that he could not be her alee lg for his eyes were a clear blue, and his complexion good, aud every feature regular, and wonderfully handsome, in essa's opinion. pips he was Miss Ar- nold’s lover, and if he were, Nessa thought that they were well : aii for both look- ed a a and good hese are for you, dear,” said he, giving ‘es 2 of flowers to _ —¥: jaa ees he came close to the | Nessa’ s hand he held ‘her ae lightly mie his fingers while he fi he pal his eyes intently on her face—his own taking an expression of gravity that won Nessa's admiration and re- ct. “Are you Doctor Meredith ?” she asked. He nodded, still holding her ee ries then a smile breaking over his face he “¥You'lldonow, Miss Dancaster. It ia been no end of a tough contest this time, but.you’ve won again. I shall have good news for your friends to-day.’ “My friends,” said Nessa, faintly ; ‘‘oh! they have all fory otten me “Forgotten you! " exclaimed the young doctor with a laugh. . ‘Hand me that thing off the table, Grace.” Misa Arnold brought an basket from the table. “Look zt these,” he continued, taking up a handful of cards and letting them slip through his fingers back into the basket. ornamental otten you. snocker : thee came in such numbers. at them,” stirring the cards with his finger. “Here are friends by the dozen, and some with capital good names too; what do as think of that fora friend?” he held u eard witha gaudy crestand monogram w hich essa recygnized as Lord Carickbairn’s. “But I remember as I lay there after the accident, hearing the people applatd over my Boat as if phey had arent ceased to “Ah, that has been running through your mind ever since, and we've tried in vain to — you. Now, thank Heaven, we can make it clear to you. The applause you heard ote s intended for you and no one else. You see, your accident created something like a panic in the audience, and to keep them quiet in their seats Fergus had the resence of mind to get apoung lady as near- y like you as he could, and send her in upon a chariot with the robes that you were to have put on as victor, you-know. He told the girl to cover her face as much as possible, and the charioteer to drive ae to the steps as sharp ashe could. In that way he deceived the major part of the audience, who thought yor had simply fainted in the arena and been brought tooutside. Thanks to the size of the bui fing and the girl’s cleverness in keeping her face well concealed, scarcely one in a hundred of the audience saw through the deception. It was only when the papers came out the next morning that the truth was known. And now you.see that the audience was not the heartless monster you have — talking about all through your long sick- lad to hear that,” Nessa fervent gratitude in her men, I am murmured, with voice. ‘‘And Iam glad to set your mind at ease; for you can't get well and strong with a nightmare like that haunting you. Now,is there anything else you wish explained — any question me would like me to answer ? 80, out with itat once, because, you see, when we get our mental faculties into calm working order—and they can’t work calmly while you are harrassed with doubts and dread—so that you can govern your actions and lie still, we cando without this uncom- fortable waistcoa:, and give your body a — chance of recovering strength and vi Ness thought for a minute, and. then she asked, ‘'Was the poor mare hurt “Yes, ;I think she was apesined pretty badly. I will ask about her to-night.” “Thank onl I was so fond of her. Is Mr. Fergus very angry with me?” “With out *T should think not. He's cut upa deal, for he knows he was partly to Viame." “He does not think it was all my fault ?” “How could he? You were not three —_— — when the chariot fouled the ne on earth could have avoided coflition ‘we at such conditions. Be quite at ease upon that point. There is no mis- conception as to the cause of your accident ; and if there were, Fergus would be the last in the world to entertain 7 ie wo vo — ood fellow that, and I riend at mene though I hold t that | he. ought never have allowed such a race to be ru ey you think he will take me back ay her g hopefully, Hel be ouly too glad— when you get atrong and well Taomgl, you know.’ Nossa gave 3 little sigh ; then, =e wasted hand, she wla.t ina Pathetic tons | poor pring yy “T’ ghan't always i The d doctor beaghid but the laugtr could F not conceal the pity he felt for besos pi “Why, ella Sor won't,” h **You've been starve; te neniy ¢ thre ree weeks, «nd it is but sate that you have | i grown thin and Sut now you will eat and make files ny and the colour will come back to your face “My friends wouldn’ t know me now, would they?’ “We will put them to the test soon, I! ** Soon ; ’ she replied, ooey ,* Dut | not yet chile—not till I lak 2 agai will be soon.” He a vocal her ap- peal with a cheorfal bod.. 4 ow hen shall I k well enough to go back a; “You may look well enou ge you are able to sit in the sulle ‘But I shall be able . ride again. Not at once, but some day. Oh, do tell me that. I could not live if I thought I should never —never be anything but this. I am not so much injured—see ;” she moved, and then bit her lip to conceal the pang it gave her. “That won’t do, my child ; you must lie gE ia og quite still. I can only promise recovery on that go psa “IT will do whatever ycu tell me—noth- ing | without your consent. I will obey you ‘were indeed our child. Tell me what I shall do now **This is famous,’ ” said the doctor, cheer- fully, rising from the chair in which he had seated himself. ‘‘I'll give you my first or- inance, for we have talked quite Lp and you must sleep if you can. Shut y eyes, and think of the very dearest friend you have, with a confident belief that there are happy ong coming.’ She moved her ‘eal in assent with a smile, and closed her eyes ; then she tried to think who was her very dearest triend, but she could see none but the honest, kind face of the young doctor, and with that before her = fell asleep “Wo e her aia to. live,” Dr. Meredith to Miss Arnold. said CHAPTER XXX, MRS. REDMOND ESCAPES, When the chariot struck the tripod, it seemed to the general spectators that Mrs, Redmond had been thrown oh but in reality her fall was intentiona d she suffered nothin bY tke wallivicn. When she rose from t arena, and, staggering one ross the poe oa to the barrier ie support, she was indee nearer fainting than ever she had been in her life, but it was from the terror inspired in her guilty conscience by her own act: the fear that her intention had been detected, and that she would be made to suffer for it. As she ae do em Qunaeaen of a val r to—the outsiders— thing about circus ae anyone : to go cat th ou could beep clear of. 't know what your dea was ; you wanted to make, believe you were showing off, and that “yon caused the accident _carrying your showing off a bit too far, ell, that might get you off if the | company wane support you. But they | won't. They don’t like you; they are all ‘against you. . They worshipped little Gra- ame, and they'll ali swear you did it outof jealousy. Al London will be on their side if it Was only a question of professional jealousy. But it’s, something more than that. ‘Your real danger i is much worse than that—oh, much worse ! “What do you mean *” she asked, thrilled , = - fresh terror Why, when the prosecution examine your antecedents, just think whata case it will be. You aren’t se enough to think your life. She stopped, “leaning against some iron railings heavily with her chin sunk on her breast; suddenly goaded to desperation by @ sense of her own folly, she turned upon Nichols— “It was you who put me on to this. If Iam convicted, by God, you shall go with me. rit ell‘all.. You shan't escape if don't. “‘No my dear, but you will esca; If lk wanted you. tobe convicted. I shouldn't have given inyselt the trouble to come round and find You. For your own sake, you'll save and kee a quiet tongue. ev ake do you think o Af i She collapsed again, ‘and merely shook her head in reply to Nichols’ question, “I'l tell you what you shall do,*my dear en fou shall go in and get your omer pack up all you want to save in one When that’s done, I'll take you home with me. My wife will be delighted to see you. = to-morrow morning you shall take the at and go to my wife’s mother at Hamburg. She will take care of youand make you com- fortable till the affair has blown over. While _you keep out of the way, there can't be any inquiry as to who youare, and ina few weeks the police will cease to enquire after you. Then, w hen your husband has come into the lanced at Nessa lying motionless under the ect of the plunging horses, she had no) doubt that her murderous purpose was | effected ; but the only remorse she felt was that she had bagroors that means of _ Hing , supers beyond the barrier ee farwncd to get a view of Nessa, she noticed that not one of them said ‘‘she is dead,” but all exclaimed that she was kill- ed. If they said that, it was because they knew she had purposely oewn her ‘aheeie across the course. Sick with fear, she crept under the bar- rier and tottered to the exit. One or two of the men seeing her pass, glanced toward her, muttering under their breath with significant nods ; but no one attempted to her. In her unreasoning state of ap- prehension that surprised her. As she way making her way "p the stairs to the dress- ing room pressing her hand to the wall for support , a couple of the dressers, who had heard the scream of the audience, and were coming down to find out the cause, stepped and asked if anything had happened to her. She had no power to reply, but, muttcring age inaudibly hetween her chatter- ing teeth, she poin down towards the arena and continued her il But one idea possessed her—flight ! In the dressing room she huddled on her clothes, wound a woollen wrap, such as the French girls used, over her headand round herthroat so as to conceal her features as much as pos- sible, and got of the building. She passed several groups of men gathered about some member of the co: mpany who had scen the accident, and escaped almost unobserved — certainly unrecognized. It was only when she was outside, and at the moment when ahe was congratulating herself on her escape, that a hand was jaidon herarm. With a start and acry of terror she turned to find that the man who arrested her was_ the money-lender, Nicho ** You've done it !” he said, in a lowtone. ‘Done what?” she gasped, glancing to the right and leftto see if they were ob- g ved, ‘« Murdered her !’ he replied in a whis- r. ‘‘Come on, my dear ; don’t stand here. ‘here’s a policeman at the corner, and you have not got a moment = lose.” e hurried her across the road, holdirg her arm, and led her sens the dark side of the street opposite. Why, you're trembling like a leaf, I do declare !” he continued, in alow tone. “Have they tried to ant re already ? She attem ated a fee ‘lefence— fearing on hi part- S®ibtful whence the w would come med me ‘” she faltered ; “ t was an accident. “You stupid woman - oh, you very stupid woman ! what a pity ! Such a fine woman —such a wonderful lot of pluck, and yet so stupid. You go and do a stupid thing, then you're stupid enough to thin your Eien are going to « lieve you when you tella stupid story. Iknew you what for ? - property, you can just come back, i resent bagel little bill, and get your money—I'll see that—and there you are a perfect lady for the rest of your life. nor ain't I a rea | good friend to you, my dea ithin twenty-four snes Mrs. Redmond and her baggage were in Hamburg. (TO_BE_CONTINCED.)- Bullidings Destroyed by Lighining. Those who have carfully watched the working of the elements during the present season well have been struck with the ame erous instances in which buildings have destroyed by lightning. The fact that some of these were provided with lightning rods brings up the old dispute as to the vrotective power of the rod, as well as wilds ago to the new theory on the subject by Dr. Oliver Lodge, an English scientist. Dr. nonge® theory is that while in many cases, probably in a very large majority, a lightning rod is of the greatest service, it cannot be depended on as affor ing perfect immunity from risk. That they do not provide absolute immuni ty is, “7 = plains, owing to the operation o} r form of lightning which he calls the rican. _ Let us assume by way ofexam- which are placed roils of the most approv ed form. cloud approaches from a distance until it over-hangs the building. The lightning roda will silently and harmlessly discharge the electricity from this cloud the earth. ut if an overhanging cloud w hie! 1 was not charged with electricity, and was therefore harness at first, should suddenly receive an excessive charge of electricity by’ means of a flash from some distant cloud, the time might be too short to permit the electricity to be silently carried off by the lightning rods, and the result would—be-a-disrrptive discharge. Even in that case the lightnin woul probably follow the conductor an leave the rest of the building practically un- injured, but that would not be certain, his difference between the steady electrical strain of ah ordinary thunder storm, and the ‘impulsive rush ” of o suddenly surcharged cloud would account, so Dr. Lodge thinks, or those exceptional cases where rods have failed to protect. pulsiv € rush.’ Whether true or not the theory is certainly.ingenious, and will soon, no doubt, be on the lips of every lightning rod agent in the country, And that means that ‘‘impulsive rush” whether comprehend- ed or rot, will soon be as familiar to the citizens throughout our land as the particu- lar name by which they are called. Slavery in Africa. The announcement that the Sultan too| Zanzibar has issued a decree looking to- wards the suppression of the African slave trade will come as good news to eve lover of his kind. According to the London Spectator this decree prohibits theexchange. were cing. to do for the girl when you left “te dto myself ‘that lit won't be alive this day week,’I said. ayn ttony and nice. Somethins or other mad think it would happen to-night, and I pei t keep away from the show. It was a sort of fascination—just like what a friend of mine told me te felt in seeing a regular tamer go in toa cuge of lions. was sure the lions would kill the tamer one day, and he was obliged to go to that show every time there was rformance until one day sure enough the lions did kill the tamer. There, that’s just how Ife. Only —— I paid my moneydown I said to my- » ‘Well, I shan’t have to go to this ex- I felt sure of it. I did, upon my word.” The: sound of the Jew’s oily voice and li lowing smooth and low in her ear made the woman's gorge rise, but she was consicained to. listen. sale or ee of slaves, and closes all slave-dealingestablishments, All slave brok- tle Sigg ) em carrying on the business 4re made liable And! toh avy penalties and to deportation. Arabs I had akind of presentiment you wouldn’ "t | desting in domestic slaves are included in able to take time over it and do it} this provision, andany houses hereafter used | for any purpese connected with the slave traflicare tobe forfeited. On the death of their | Presentowners all Zanzibar slaves will beipso- a| facto free, unless the decease leave lawful 2 c hi: dren, who alone may inherit: them. Slaves cannot he willed away or sold after the death of their owner, and their illtreat- ment by their masters will be severcly pun- ished and, in certain cases, involve the pen- alty of forfeiture. Any Zanibar . subject inverie! ta a persoa underBritish jur isdic- tien is disabled from holding slaves, and all slaves now in the possession of such persons are declared free. Every slave is to have the absolute right to purchase his freedom at a reasonable price ; every slave is to have the same rights as Arabs in courts of justice, and the Sultan binds himself to accord them special protectio: