OR, THE TlussING ~~ "We are cing to Lucknow Ada Mr pera " said; "where does it Fie 3 a a E listening to the cries of wild beasts f i This information was most depre.s- ing, especially when a sudden twinge Femindcd Philip of his recent wound. He looked with dismay at his com- Panion's slender form, conspicuous in the white boy's. dress, and tried to calculate the distance from Lucknow by. the time it had taken tho bearers to convey him in his Ppalanquin to Beelampore. Alas ! these bosides- being swift and practiced runners; know the way and were not obliged -to hide icon Nigh Boe ad " Venture was a desperate "We must make the rears of the darkness,"" Ada said, tranquilly at this juncture. "It will be well lie pod pum during the day. You have ery. good and given me n "froubiy. s "with questions -and hesita- perro at. your service," he replied, HR com "T-know that you would not have left your refage but for good "Good reason indeed," she said. "You have heard Gossamjee Bhose speak of the tyrannical moulvie who @uused the Hindoo temple to be de- filed. This man has sworn that there shall be no more English, and for that reason Gossamjee was s0 anxious to pass us both off as Hin- doos.' With-me~he succeeded fairly I was in India until eleven Hindostanee is my sec- guage. I know much of na- ways, besides;. women do not attract much attention, their lives #e passed in such. seclusion. But yeu arrived in English uniform, wounded, and this somehow wind. Gossamjee suspects that of the servants turned traitor. These People ore always intriguing, and some friendly traitor warned Gossa- mjee of the moulvie's plan, which was to search his house--probably this very night. He told Ruksbhai also that he would defend us to the death. "Poor Ruksbhai herself pro- Posed our flight; she had the locks olled, and gave me a master key and @ suit of Chunia's clothes, and fur- nished me with food and a little money. Dear Ruksbhai, she is a Lape actor, and I hope that she will able to persuade Gossamjee that she knows nothing of our disappear- ance. She had to take old Toru into her confidence. Toru dare' not betray her mistress. Gossamijee Would certainly beat her for her part in it. And for such a breach of hospitality he would beat Ruksbhai weverely. Dear Gossamjee, I wish I might have bid him good-by and thanked him. He is such a noble- minded man. Even Ruksbhai loves him, though he is her husband. How I shali miss them all. You did mot see Rajmahli, of course? But you may have heard a girl's voice ores hymns. It was Rajmahli. She is sixteen, anda widow. I taught her many thin and we studied Sanscrit togcther. "And little Bata, a ehild of six. Poor baby! It bad enough to be a woman in any Case, but to be a Hindoo woman; there is nothing more terrible, sept to be a Mohammedan woman.' "'They are used to it," he oti, his mind busy with more personal matters. "And Iam used to being a wom- an," she returned, with a scornful smile, "but I find the more I am used to it the less I like it." "You surely would not wish to_bo man ?"' Philip remonstrited. Perhaps salmon, mackerel, and such lucky fish as are not skinned alive, consider that discipline excellent for eels, who, like Mohammedan women, @re used to it. *'At all events,' she returned, "I must look as much like a boy as I can till this little excursion is at an end. My name is Carendra Lal, you Are Bassenjce Lal, my brother, and we are returning from some pil- gtimage to Lucknow, where our par- ents live. An impediment in your Speech obliges me to be spokesman on all occasions. The moon set and clouds arose, i gradually _blotting out. the stars. They travelled along in the darkness, rom the jungle they were approach- Ing, and talking but little; Philip re ene that he had left Gossamjee's ospital roof without a word of thanks or farewell, and speculating on the trouble that might befall the t merchant on their account. It Was well' that Ada had explained nothing beforchand, as in that case he would have felt himself bound to telP his good host of his intended Gitting. ""Gossamjee will Yas think me TONoe kia he sa his olen a replied; "'he rs |your WILL ocx ~ -- = | - CHAPTER XV. him, so that he might be unable to furnish any clue in case of pursuit. ,|There are some very fierce fanatics at Beelampore who think English blood the most dainty offering for their gods. Oh, Mr. Randal, how . eng it is to be free. Yourg is he first English voice IT have heard neater three months," she said, her breath catching at the memory of the last English voice she had heard; "and I have not had so one as an English Bible to read, have only spoken English i teaching Rajmahli, and sometimes her father and her brother."' "Poor child !" Philip replied, touched at the thought of her: deso- lation, 'I wish I were ten men for sake." The dawn was breaking now, not the sudden splendor of the tropics, but a much less gradual dawn than we know in these latitudes. The air grew sharp, the darkness seemed r, and then the clouds cleared off, the cast glimmered grayly and turned to white and gold, the great sun leapt up from the horizon into a sky of deep glowing orange; the warm autumn d was' near Ada's spirits had been rising with the sense of freedom, and the stimu- lus of action, the terrible sorrow and suspense of the last few months Was succeeded by a natural reaction She could have sung in the lightness of her heart. "How beautiful the world is!" she exclaimed, as she watched the glory of the sunrise with tears in her eyes, "and how beautiful it only just to be alive. I am_ sure that we shall get through the lines, Mr. Randal. I think that God means to deal more gently now--I have suffered so much, and you have suffered, too. And how shall I ever be able to thank you ?" "If I can help you I shall need no other thanks," he replied; "but it strikes me that if I get into Luck- now alive I shall owe it to you." They went into a grove of mangoes for concealment rather than shade, to rest awhile, and eat some of the food Ada had brought with her; and a more paradisaic breakfast per- haps had never: been taken. The world lying before them in the beau- ty of the morning was so fresh, so young, and so bright; the experience Was so new and so romantic. Philip scarcely knew Ada in her fresh disguise; the merry Hindoo lad with the sparkling eyes differed as much from the cignified, deep-voiced Indian lady teliirz him her sad story, as the latter contrasted with the light-hearted girl in the ball- room. His spirits rose with the glor¥ of the fresh morning, and the infection of Ada's, but he could not forget the extreme peril of their pos- ition and his own heavy responsibil- ity, and ate the chupatties-and fruit he found in his bundle with an un- dercurrent of scrious thought. "'Brother Bassamjee," Ada said hurriedly, after a time, "I wonder in Which direction Lucknow lies." Then it struck Philip that, having walked for so many hours, they ought by this time to be within hearing of the siege guns. He looked over the prospect before him, a rich plain dotted with villages among corn-fields, groves, and paddy fields, with the eternal palm springing here and there; he could see no sign of a large city, or large river. Beelam- pore was left far behind out of sight. He had no idca where he was. "We shall soon find the road," he said in a reassuring voice. "Only keep up your heart, Miss Maynard." Their frugal meal finished, and their feet washed in a stream, the travellers went refreshed upon their way toward a village, where Ada's inquiries procured the disquieting in- formation that they had been dili- géntly walking away from Lucknow all night, and must now retrace their steps, though they were not obliged to ages Beclampore -again. Qa sun waxed warmer. as they watked. and both began to flag, Philip even limping, as the effort told upon his wounded leg. "It would have been nothing with- out an adventure," Ada commented joyously; "you didn't suppose we were going to walk across to Luck- now as one walks across -the fields to church at home, Mr. Randal ?" And he certainly did not. They ad now reached a ravine formed by a cascade dashing from a height; the steep sides were partly clothed with wood, and as it was evident that both were tired out' they rested in this cool and pleasant retreat till the sun's worst force should be expended. Here Philip prepared a couch with leaves and un- dergrowth, but beforo he had - made much. way with it Ada, who had thrown herself at the foor of a tree and began to discuss their plans, lsuddenly became silent, her head jdrooping on her breast. She - had fallen asleep, dead beat. She scar- cely stirred when he lifted her gently from the carth and placed r on the greenwood couch, Primeelf sitting near and fanning the insects off wi @ green bough., He sat thus for many noaess battling with the drow- overcome j ao threatened to oo n is. mney. had decided to sleep by: turns day, and travel again nights pat Ada, who had- taken fort of his wounded leg. But at last the sleep faded from her face, she sighed, stirred, and woke, spring- ing to her feet when her ayes opened upon Philip's haggard face, and re- proaching him for letting her sleep on--for they did not think it safe to sleep without a watch, a temple above the cascade giving evidence of human habitation near. Then Philip took her place for an hour, and she watched and fanned in turn, her heart in turn melted with pity when she looked upon the bron- zed tired face and the strong limbs relaxed in the helplessness of sleep. If wild beasts cease to harm each Sean and unite to face a» common danger, how much more binding is the tie of endurance and peril when shared by human beings? And these had for each other the subtle charms of youth and sex, together with diversity of character and beauty; they were alone together in the wide world, surrounded by cruel and treacherous enemies, at the mercy of elemental forces, hot noons, chill nights, beasts of prey and ven- omous reptiles, malaria, hunger, and the pestilence that slays and wastes at that n in those climates. Each felt something of the tremen- dous forces drawing them t:: gether. but their youth and the exigencies of the moment hindered them irem sec- mid rid deep and subtle those fcrces we! 'Anothei? night's walking, they hop- ed, would bring them to the reLel lines; but it was not so. What with sickness and other mischances, it was days later when two young Eng- lish-speaking WHindoos were suffered to pass the English outposts in the evening, and brought guarded into the entrenchments. Foot-sore and weary, thin and hag- gard, thelr white clothing stained and torn, they were led before Euro- Peans almost as tattered, soiled and wasted as themselves; when the younger lad, who was half supported by the elder, suddenly uttered a cry and ran toward a tall man clad ina ragged, dirty flannel shirt, shabby trousers and slippers, but accoutred as a private soldier, and wearing an officer' s sword. rthur, don't you know me ?"' sobbed the boy, throwing himself up- on the astonished officer. e escaped from Jellypore in disguise,'"* the other fugitive ex- Plained. "You may be suro of your sister by this. token, Captain May- nard,"' he added, producing a large ruby from his clothing. "Miss May- nard dropped this while dancing with me, © ilip Randal, of the 190th, last winter, and I took it in charge for her until now. en ensued a scene in which re- cognition, doubt, fear and hope, sor- row and joy, were tumultuously min- gled, one of many similar scenes en- acted in Lucknow that year, when the supposed dead suddenly reap- peared after long wanderings, and those reputed living were as sudden- ly discovered to have been long dead; when reunited friends mct with ter- ror, framing questions their lips al- most rofused to utter, and their cars dreaded to hear answered "Is father alive? And mother ?-- Where is your wife? Algernon was killed and Ethel and all the children --None were saved, civilians or sold- iers--My children are gone--My wife still lives--Her baby -is a month old--There is still food in the garri- son--We have lost all we possessed-- We left cantonments in the clothes we stood in--You are ill--I am starv- ed+Ah, poor child, and worn out-- And Havelock is ill--Sir Colin is coming--A little patience~--Thank God how sad--How sweet--" and such like mingled questions and an- swers amid tears and smiles, and ejaculations of sorrow and wonder, to the crashing of the grim siege- symphony over-head. The fugitives farewell; Ada was taken to her bro- ther's wife, and Philip, with a keen pang at a parting he felt to be final, at least as far as the close and Pleasant companionship in the last days of suffering and danger was concerned, went to the quarters as- signed to his regiment, where an- 'other equally ghastly but less emo- tional scene of recognition, inquiry, sad response, and half sorrowful wel- come occurred, in the midst of which the diabolical war music rose inf a deafening fortissimo; the wall of the temporary mess room crashed in, ad- mitting a heavy exploding body, men fell in various directions like so many ninepins, the sound of smash- ing crockery and shattcring furni- ture was mingled with groans, and followed by silence and darkness. Philip, stunned by the noise, and blinded by the thick dust-cloud, won- dered that he was sstill alive, and supposed himself the only survivor of the explosion; when the cloud began to dissipate itself, a light was struck and a Voice quietly remarked : 'Their practice is improving. The last only ploughed the compound a bit."' "What I hate is their confounded stink-pots,'" said another Voice, and the whole assembly, the officers be- th jing then at dinner, was soon on its feet, and making use of such furni- ture as was not smashed, ip ligated continuing the re- at oj} separated without |. minnt a few A igrronace Tater. amputated in heaps in the hospital, of the continucd fury of the siege hausted that the ore on and japparently undiminished numbers of |S! nearly away while ba -- and |the enemy, who had rolled back for Philip could only keep himself awake |a short distance round the original by Pacing to and fro, to the discom- jen forced garrison as closely as ora Outram had not yet heard of Sir Colin Campbell's approach, and thanks to wrence's providence there were still provisions for a month. An English paper, smuggled in by a servant, proclaimed the in- {terest and sympathy of England, and the starting of troops overland. ©. or threo days in page where a round shot killed a sitting on his bed, and eararal oe duty of most active description, fol- lowed, and Philip saw and hear nothing of the comrade of his late adventures. He contrived to send out a note for Jessie, concealed in a quill, saving that he was alive and well, and then one evening -when he had an hour to spare, he made_ his way to the Maynards' quarters, *ell- ing himself that, Httle as conven- tionalities could be observed by peo- ple whose scanty leisure was spent in dodging round shots and musket balls, it was absolutely incumbent on him to ask how Miss Maynard fared after her adventurous journey He found a quiet circle of ladies in shabby clothes, sitting in a veranda to breathe a little air in the com- parative lull of the iron tempest, which usually occurred after sunset. Faded, haggard, and languid these ladies were; one wore a bit of crape at her neck, the nearest approach to widow's weeds that she could pro- cure; One was hushing a young fret- ful baby. This lady received him very cordially, and thanked him for his care of her sister-in-law, while Captain Maynard took the young child and looked at it with a wist- ful tenderness. "This little chap began life bold- ly," he observed, petting og tiniest of arms. "He ought to grow into a distin- guished soldier," Philip replied glanc- ing with a sort of awed pity at the frail creature, who had chosen such a perilous time for his first entrance upon the world's stage, and doubting if he would grow into anything. Then he heard the low clear voice which had of late become so fami- liar, though not less thrilling to him, and almost feared to look up to the face he had seen in such var- ied aspects when Ada came on to the veranda. . "IT am so glad to see you," she said» "I was afraid you would not have time to come. You were in hospital; I was so sorry. I hear you have been on duty, I hope not too soon.' The young widow's eyes clouded when she saw Philip rise from the block of wood he was sitting on to shake his former comrade's hand; she had heard the story of their wandering With a sort of tender envy and the expression Ada's appearance brought to Philip's face gave him a momentary resemblance to her own soldier slain during the siege. It happened that Philip was clad in a shabby, stained uniform that she recognized too well; she had refused to sell it, but placed it at the dis- posal of any officer who might need it. Ada had now recovered her natural hue, and though unsuitably clad in a rich colored silk gown given her by a lady who lived in the Resi- dency, and therefore had all her wardrobe with her when the flight thither took place, she made a grace- ful and feminine figure in the dim light. Her dark hair was coiled about her head like that of a Greak statue, her eyes were bright with Pleasant welcome; she carried a sleeping child in her arms, a wastad, ailing creature, yet no light burden, being at least three years old. '"'Ada,"' her sister-in-law _ said, "'can't you put Willie to bed now ? He has been in your arms the whole He will wear you out.' large bodies of replied, gathering him closer in her arms; "he is so good, he lets me work and wash the china and do all sorts of things !"' Philip wondered what "all sorts of things" might mean; without asking he took the child from her, and quickly hushed the feeble moan it made on being moved; then he learnt that its mother was too weak to tend it, and trusted it entirely to Ada. Just then a slight sibilant noise, followed by a crack, was heard, and a small object bounded from the chair on which Miss Maynard was sitting and struck her on the side. "Spent, fortunatecly,"' she said, with a slight start, while a® small leaden ball rolled harmlessly to the ground, whence Philip took it as a souvenir. "The chair is none the Captain Maynard said, examining it; "it was evidently chance shot." Philip, whose. low scat was one of those wooden blocks fired from mor- tars at a high elevation into the garrison, kecnly realized' the brief and precarious. tenure on which they all held their lives; was it worth while to think of the future in the near face of death 2? Why not snatch a little joy from these ficeting mom- ents of peril? Therefore he 'looked worse,"' tranquilly a into Ada"s fg eyes, and Jistened to 'the music of eae voice, while the quietly a thout = d |being cleared for their carriages and .remembered that good man's) eenstant and gupta love kindness, and the perf had seen in his dying eyes. In the meantime the guns boomed on; ao ball might at any moment | crash into his room, ending all re-' |Sponsibility. His visit was repeated once or twice before the position was evacu- ated a few weeks later, in verentter, when Ada was one of the wd of ladies who took shelter in } his meh ment's. quarters, while a p = their way to the Dilkoosha Palace. The child was still in her arms; she begged a little milk for it, and Philip was happy and proud to be able to furnish some. A few days later, when the sick and wounded and women and child- ren were conveyed to Allahabad, he was onc of their escort, and thus saw her frequently during the fort- night's slow and difficult march, which was necessarily one of great hardship. <A great crowd of sitk and feeble people and their necessary baggage in bullock wagons and pal- anquins, with camels, el ts, destrians, and,vehicles all mixed up together in the hot sun and stifling dust, involved much suffering and unspeakable confusion. With scanty and hastily organized commissariat, the Maynards were frequently with- out food or tents for the night; and, like others, were dependent upon the sometimes lawless proceedings of mnale friends. "Brother Bassamjec,"' 'Ada said one night, when after long and weary waiting at their encampment he brought them some" loaves filched from a commissariat wagon, "'if you were in merry England I strongly suspect you would see: more of the inside of a prison than -you liked."' "Well, I begged this milk for Wil- lie,' he replied, producing some. "'After all,"' Ada said, when she had thanked him, "it is only a long picnic, but Mrs. Maynard wot't see it in that Ight."' "It would be more amusing,"' poor Mrs. Maynard observed, "if we could be quite sure the encmy would not attack us."' ' Philip was more than sorry when this novel picnic came to an_ end, and the Lucknow people were safely packed in trains to Allahabad.Both Ada and Mrs. Muynard said a tear- ful farewell, but Ada smiled through her tears. "What can it matter?" he said to himself in the march back to the Al- umbagh, "I shall never see her again whether I go through the compe or not.' And when he reached the cam i found several home. letters, he : most trembled at the prospect ~ opening them. : The time moved heavily on that winter in spite of the constant peril and excitement culminating in the final capture of Lucknow in March; Jessie's strange discontent and con- stant desire to leave the neighbor- hood of Cleeve and obtain some em- ployment, expressed in the letters which reached him fitfully, seemed to him, in face of the grim realities of his own life, but as the murmurs of a spoilt child, wanting something and knowing not what. "Dear little Jessie! I will do all I can to e her happy when the campaign .is over," he used to say on reading her letters. (To be Continued.) ------_--4------ = SECRETS OF SUCCESS. A certain fellow who answered ad- vertisements in papers has had some interesting exporience. He learned that by sending a dollar to a Yan- kee he could get a cure for drunken- ness, and he did. It was to "Take the pledge and keep it." 'Then he sent fifty stamps to find out how to raise turnips successfully. He found out: "Take hold of the top and pull."' Being young he wished to inarry, and sent thirty stamps to a firm for information as to how to make an impression. When the an- swer came it read, "Sit down in a pan of dough.'"' It was a_ little rough, but he was a patient man, and thought he would yet succced. Next advertisement he answered ad: "How to double your money. in six months."" He was told to convert his moncy into notes, fold them, and he would see his money doubled. Next he sent for twelve articles, and he got a packet of necd- les. He was slow to learn, so hé sent a dollar to find out "'How to get rich." The next post carricd, "Work like the deuce and never, spend a cent," and that stopped' him. . But his brother wrote to find, out "How to write without pen or' ink.' He was told to use a _ lead- pencil. He paid a dollar to learn, "How to live without work," and' was told on a pose ecard, "Fish for fools as we do.' Scolding Female (to Husband No. 2) :--"Oh, if you only knew the dif- ference between you, wretth, and my first husband !" Husband :--"I do know the difference. He is happy, happy. palare I got yor. * now that he has left you, and I 'was