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By the side of his work stood the pointer, Juan Zanoni. He was of me- dium height and size, possessing a well-knit, muscular frame, the thews ened and strengthened by long con- tinued manly an! atheletic exercise. The beauty of his face was startling. The skin in its purity and whiteness was like unseottetl marble._ There “9-.- â€" _I--__ - , r â€"- "J \A " “IVUUUBS was like unsyotted marble. There was a glow of perfect health without I. particle of a flush. thou h there were times and occasions w en sud- den and strong emotion would send the richest carmine to cheek and brow. tn“. L-L-mâ€" ‘ 'l‘he afartment beyond the archâ€"the studio prOperâ€" was a different place from the waiting-room, and differently Occuz'is-t-I. On the walls werefaintings, sketches and etchings of v.rious tie- Correggio, two pictures by 311111110, which the artist hrul brought from Spain besides works from the pencils of other masters. whise names had be- com? imy'erisshable, '1 here were choice pieces of sculpture, too, bestowed in various nooks and corners, together with chaste and valuable bric-a-brac, which we need not particularize. A peculiar charm of softness â€" of peace and restfulnessâ€"was cast upon the room and upon all it contained by the richly stained glass of the windows? and the judicious arrangement of de-] licately tinted screens and curtains. Near the center of the studio stood an easel, supporting a canvas, on which was being created a life-size picture of St. Cecilia, the young and beautiful Christian martyr of Rome. The body of the picture was well on the way to- ward completion. The figure was re- presented as leaning on a harp; the mood one of sublime contemplation. The harp was finished, save only a touch here and there in shading; the backgrounds was well-nigh complete, and the drapery required but little more work. The face was scarcely more than outlined, but sufficient had been done to reveal the surpassing possi- bilities. of the conception. She had waited in that room, soli- tary and alone, she could not. tell how long, but it seemed to her an age. ’Had she been fond of pictures; had she lov- ed the beautiful in art of nature; had she been able to trace out thought and feeling and grand conception in ‘11?- bold strokes and more gentle passes of the sculptor’s chisel upon the in- animate marbleâ€"could she have done this she might have spent hours in that place and never thought of lone- someness or fatigue, for it was are- xrository of rare paintings and choice bits ot statuary and has-relief, gath- ered through years of earnest search. with discriminating taste and judg- ment, from many lands. Occasionally the duenna would go to one of the two windowsâ€"perhaps step out upon the balcony. and gaze down upon the garden underneath. or away upon other windows, with a natural curiosity to see, if possible, what the neighbors “ere doing. When she re- turned to the room and resumed her seat, she fixed her eyes upon the lofty arch within which was the door open- ing into the sanctum sanctorum be- yond, and once or twice, probably in a tit of forgetfuiness, while pretend- mg to pass to and fro, she stepped near the closed passage and bent her ear as one does who listens. Anon she tapped the rich mosaic of the floor with her foot, winked and blinked her sharp gray eyes, pursed he‘r'thin “pg, and nodded mysteriously. Madelon Sandoz was of a verity b8- coming m-ary and impatient; but it was not the first time she had thus suffered; nor did she eXpect it to be the last. Nevertheless, even a duen- na’s patience has its limit, and, if her looks do not belie her, she will ere long make herself officious. plelrzeian. She was, in truth, but a duenna in attendance upon a mist- ress “ho occasionalh tried her pa- tience, as it “as certainly being tried now. r‘wâ€" " ' Our [aintcr occupied two apartments both 0! goodly size, well lighted and handsomely and artistically furnish- ed. That in the rear, the windows of which overlookel a small garden be- longing to the estate, was used as a reception and waiting-room, the oth- er. in front, being the artist’s stu- dio prOporâ€"his sanctum sanctorum. It “as late in the afternoon of a pleasant day of June. In the rear apartm ‘nt of the painter’s quarters sat a woman, advanced in yearsâ€" three score at leastâ€"wearing a garb as rich in material as any lady in the land could have desired. yet she had noth- ing of the I'atrician in her appear- ance, leing, on the contrary, really Within a stone’s throwwas the sta- tus of Correggio, whose masterpieces adorn the city and constitute one of its chief attractions: further away the great cathedral, with its imposing arches and its huge red marble lions, from the chisel of Bone. da Bisone. Still further, and to the right, an ex- tensive garden, full of bloom and frag- rance: and L‘eyon-l all this, visible through a vista afforded by the Acme]- ian Way, were to be seen the green forest of the Taro and the towering peak of the distant Apennines. In a. spacious marble building over- looking the grand piazza of Parma, its walls somewhat discolored by the touch of time, was the studio of a pain- ter. His roomswere on the second floor, the windows in front command- ing a View that might have insyired any one whose soul was susceptible to the influences of the grand and the beautiful. CHAPTER I. “Sire, the painter Zanoni is. with- out exception. .the handsomest man I Word t. _______ “W1, , . “Count Denaro! Dare you hint at such a thing? By San Marco! the man who has not confidence in the imma- culate purity ofâ€"" “Oh, sir! sir I" the count had implor- ed, grasping the duke’s hand as he spoke. “How could you give such turn to my speech? Good heavens! I would cut my tongue out at its roots if I thought it could frame utterance in that direction. ' ' nothing like that." my not in that directiohâ€"Z" vâ€"v “Di-V” Before the young man could speak further the duke started under the we answer: The St. Cecilia was being painted for the duke. The subject had originated with him. He had read the touching story of the young and beautiful Roman wife, who had of- fered her life upon the altar of her reIligiO'nâ€"preferring death to a re- nunciation of her blessed faith in her Lord and Savious Jesus Christâ€"he had read, and it became with him a sort of infatuation that he should not only Possess a picture of the saint, but that his beautiful ward should sit for the portrait, that he might thus possess a memento that would be doubly pre- cious to him. No fear of scandal had entered the duke's thoughts. Zanoni was noted for his stern and unswerving virtue; for his high estimate of women, and for the scrupulous attention to strict pl‘O- priety and decorum in his intercourse with those who had occasion to sit in his studio. Once, when the Count Guiseppe Den- aro, an only son of one of the wealth- iest, oldest, and most noble families In the duchy, who had sought Isabel’s hand in marriageâ€"when he, with sad- ly drawn and lugubrious visage, of- fered objections to the arrangement, the duke had laughad at him m.+.~:nh+ He had Promised, and most faithfully had his promise been kept. The or- Phan girl, inheriting the title with the large estate. had come to him a weal- thy ward, her possessions, in fact. rivaling his own in value. And this wealth he had cared for with a faith that knew no swerving. He could not have guarded his life with a more sciupulous ‘ fidelity: “-vuw LluULIU o If you ask how the princess chanced to he here, serving Zanoni as a model. And so she did. She was the Prin- cess Isalrel di Varona, an orphan, and a relative and ward of the Duke of Parma. She had lost her parents when quite young, her father having been killed on the battle-field, her mother dying shortly thereafter. Though Prince di Varona had been only accusin, twice removed, of the duke on the maternal side, they had been mated together in youth, and had loved one another deeply and truly t0 the end; hence the mother when dy- ing called upon the dear friend of her hushand to be a father to her child. 33% her {one and hearing, Blaihly Sign? fled that she belonged to the patrl cian class. Near by, reclining upon a luxurious velvet-covered ottoman. was the paint- er’s model for his saint. If she had not Leen beautiful she would not have been there. Neither would she have been there had her beauty been of the voluptuous cast, or even verging up- on it. Hers was most emphatically a beauty of purity and truthâ€"a beauty of soul and intellect. She was twenty years of age, with a figure of sur- passing grace and loveliness, andâ€" But â€"when we say that the artist sought no other modelâ€"that she afforded him. in form and feature, all that he could desire for his most exalted conception of. the person and character of the saintâ€"when that is said, surely we need say no more. Her garb, as well He was clad in a light, blouse-like frock or doublet of rich green velvet. with a vest of amber-colored satin beneath. the close fitting small-clothes and velvet hose revealing the muscular fullness and satuesque symmetry of his lower limbs. There was no con- finement of linen gear about the neck. The collar of his shirt was turned over the collar of his blouse and simply con- fined by a light silken-scarf, so loose- ly knotted that the white throat was left free and Open. in silken curls, was almost black. there were certain lights, how- ever, in which a brownish tinge was preceptible. His ageâ€"since we know it we may as well be exactâ€"was nine and twenty. One month previously he had entered upon his thirtieth year. SO he was in the full bloom and perfectness of his manhood. then, Guiseppe? You must. a meaning 8" master," the youth had re- h geepest feeling, “you will feeling, ”you will at I am about to has not yet given lest suit; nor yet no her. hand; still me, and I had hOp- a‘re long! speak the â€"â€"-â€"-°-.v Juana-50 Lb, Ullb lull“ ~ , enormously against him. About three the morning edition would be made up. and his chance gone forever. The one thing clear was that “1113' the first man at the wires would twelve to one. Then the messages took a Good two hours to go through. fr they had to be transcribed at Cairo. At the best he could only hope to have told his story in Fleet Street at two or three I‘in the ‘n‘lorning. It was possible that M Luau DCVUU lllllca all hourâ€"Jess on bad parts, more on the smooth. His recollection of the track was that there were few smooth and gnany bad. He would be lucky then 1f he reached Sarras anywhere from Then the messages took ue north Wind soothing his pringling face. . He had looked at his watch, and now he made a swift calculation of times and distances. It was past six when he had left the. camp. Over broken ground it was impossible that he could hope to do more than seven miles an hourâ€"less on bad parts, more on the smooth. His recollection of the track Icon... L‘â€" ‘ “ I It was his first experience of a trot- ing camel, and at first the motion, al- though irregular and abrupt was not unpleasant. Having no stirrup or fix- .edi point of any kind he could not rise lto' it, but he gripped as tightly as he could with his knep, and he tried to sway backwards and forwards as he ghad seen the Arabs do. lt was a large. gvery concave Makloofa saddle, and he :was conscious that he was bouncing about on it with as little power of ad- hesion as a billiard ball upon a tea ”M3 He gripped the two sides with his hands to hold himself steady. The creature had got into its long. swing- ing. stealthy trot, its sponge-like feet making no sound upon the hard sand. Anerley leaned back with his two hands gripping hard behind. him. and he WhOODed the creature on. The sun had already sunk behind the line of black volcanic peaks, which look like. huge slag-heads at the mouth of which makes evening beautiful upon. the Nile, and the old brown river itself. swirling down amongst the black rocks. . caught some shimmer of the colors} above. The glare, the heat and the! Piping of the insects had all ceased toBether. In spite of his aching head Anerley could have cried out] for pure: Physical joy as the swift. creature be, neath him flew along with him through i that cool invigorating air, with the vir- . ile north wind soothing hi8 pringlingi for“. I “Guiseppe, most; of those young la- dies I have conversed with on the. sub- ject of their experience in the artist's studio, and I have found them unani- mous in one direction of (lisapl!0int' .ment and, I think I may say. disgust. I‘Not all the beauty they were. able to reveal, no possible charm they could thring to hear, no smiles, nor admiring looks, not even their witching flattery, could draw from him one warm or gal- lant glance. Had they been so many “toothless old hags it would have been :the same, so far as his treatment: of themselves was concerned. Be sure, my boy, lknew what, I was doing when Isuffered the dear girl to go ' there. And you will remember old Ma- -delon always accompanied her. No! I fwouldn’t forego the pleasure I antici- lpated in the possession of that picture :for my ducal crown. Yet. you know i I would give my life sooner than harm gshould come to.lsal-el. But that can not he. Aha! I must try and see if I lean fancy Zanoni in love with mortal woman. There! away you go. Don’t let any more such goblins arise to fright- ien youf’ _...---. - ..â€"â€"--_..--â€"â€"_. The Three Correspondents The young count hid it on his tongue when the duke spoke of Madelon, to tell him that the good old woman was never suffered to sit in the studio while the artist was painting;. but perhaps his grace already knew it and had ready excuse for it. At all events he had, at that dismissal, turned away with- out_ saying more. This'has been a digression. but it will the better enable us to under- stand the situatibn about to transpire. (To be Continued.) a. score of young and lovely damsels, marriageable, yet; unmarriedâ€"I may say of them thtit they were the love- liest of our lovely womenâ€"have sat to him. have spent: hours with him alone. while he caught. their features and transferred them to canvas. have said concerning him-«every word; but I Wish to addâ€"he is wedded to his art. Since be. his been in Parma. little more than five v-eurs, he has painted the portraits of. the most beautiful maidens we have among us. At lea_st v "â€"vâ€"‘ .5 gr! ZoqndsI! ban't, let hot mistrust that 3011 thmk s_0 lightly of her! Hush! say - -â€"â€"Câ€"vâ€"J â€"â€" no more. I forgive you. my boy, but I doubt much if she would should she come to know it. And now, GuiseppG. as an end to this matter I Will say this: You can only look at one side of Za- poni’s character. I admit all that you “Oh. boy, boy! What. a- bugbear you have conjured up in that poor fellow’s studio! You must be crazy. The Prin- cess di Varona falling in love, like a. mipgnaid, with a plebeian picture-11191;: ily. Charm. which no one can escape who is brought within its influence. Then again. I never met another so bril- liant and entertaining in conversation. In short, his very presence has 19 1t. a charm which is utterly irresistible. Now, sir, I know' that the princess 18 young and impreseible, with a deep touch of romance in her thoughts and feelings. Can you. not see what I- dread 9'" For the Space of perhaps three sec- onds the duke had regarded the young man seriously, and they he burst in- fp a merry laugh, and laughed heart-. Wâ€"uw-v Blight. 11151533 it but the And so it came about that the Ga- zette had along column, with head- lines like an epitaph. when the sheets of the Intelligence and the Courier were as blank as the faces of their editors. “By heavens. I’ll dovit vyét!" cried Anerley. and staggering to a packing case he began the dictation of his fa- mous dispatch. “And it’s tw onow. I could not get it before four.” “ Before three.” “ Four ?” “No. three.” “ But you said two hours." “Yes, but there’s more than an hour’s Qifference in longitude.” “How long does it take to get a wire to London?” “About two hours.” “ Two o’clock! I’m done after all!" said be. His head was tied up in a bloody handkerchief, and his face was crixhson, and he stood with his legs crooked. as if this pith had all gone out of his back. The clerk began to real- ize that something out of the ordinary was in the wind. But no retort that he could have de- vised could have had amore crushing effect. The voice turned drunken also. and the man caught at the door post to uphold him. bodies tightly in broad cloth bandages when they prepare for a long march. 5 It had seemed unnecessary and ridicu- I lous when he first began to speed over fthe level track, but now, when he got i on the rocky paths, he understood what it meant. Never for an instant was he iat the same angle. Backwards, forâ€" wards he swung, with a tingling jar l at the end of each sway. until he ached ‘from his neck to his knee. It caught 1 him across the shoulders, it caught him g down the spine, it gripped him over the gloins, it marked the lower line of his ,ribs with one heavy dull throb. Ho ,clutched here and there with his hand ‘to try and ease the strain upon his ’ muscles. He drew up his knees, alter- :ed his seat and set his teeth with a fgrim determination to go through with :it should it kill him‘. His head was isplitting, his flayed face smarting and ,every joint in his body aching as if ilt wene dislocated. But he forgot all I that when, with the rising of the moon. he heard the clinking of horses’ hoofs .down upon the track by the river, and knew that, unseen by them, he had al- iready got well abreast of his compan- iions. But he was hardly half-way and f the __time already eleven. It was on the clerk’s lips to say that it was time that the questioner was in his bed, but it is not safe upon acam- paign to he ironioal at the expense of kharki-clad men. He contented him- self therefore with the bald statement that it was after two. “\Vhat’s the time. ?” 59 cried in a ?voioe that appeared to be the only sober thing about him. All day long the needles had been ticking away without intermission in the little corrugated iron hut which served as a telegraph station at Sarras. With its hare walls and its packing- case seats it was none the less for' the moment one of the vital spots upon the earth’s surface, and the crisp importu- nate ticking might have come from the worldâ€"old clock of destiny. Many au- gust people had been at the other end of those wires and had communed with the moist-faced military clerk. A French premier had demanded a pledge and an English marquis had passed on the request to the general in command. with a question as to how it would af- fect the situation. Cipher telegrams had nearly driven the clerk out of his wits, for of all crazy occupations the taking of a cipher message when you are without a key to the cipher is the worst. Much high diplomacy had been going on all day in the innermost cham- bers of European chancellories, and the results of-it had been whispered into this little corrugated iron hut. About two in the morning an enormous dis- patch had come at last to an end, and the weary operator had Opened the door and was lighting his pipe in the cool, fresh air, when he caw a camel, plump down in the dust, and a man. who seemed to be in the last state of drunkenness, come rolling toward him. Price soc. per box, 5 boxes for $3.00, at druggists, or if not obtainable at your drug ist. mailed on rece'pt of gfice by the SR. WARD (20., Victoria L, To- ronto. Book of Information FREE. Curacao gives its mm. in .‘l mew“ ed 11(11101' that was fornici'lv manufa‘“ tyred from the peel of :1 tt-t'nliar 5W 0168 of orange growing tltvl‘e. but 3105‘ Of the fruit trees have been destroy' ed by the droughts, (llltl th‘ Sul’l‘ly "9W comes from other of th» W991 “1' than islands. The inhul itaiits 3” mostly "881‘068. A few l‘lt‘h 11,(‘i‘(‘hillll.5‘ tepresenting all nationalities. are 5310 to. have made their money 31108- It is a free port, No (l any sort are charged, and as 111” 3m' immt .Of merchandise iniportwi anflu' ally 18 about twenty-five timt’S as much as the inhabitants can vim-W?" 39d the 1111er is constantly filled “1th littl? schooner-s that seem to be 31“." loading and unloading, there- is [food Crowd for the belief that contraband .trade with the main coast is still 8" mg on. Each steamer leaves enough 90°“ upon the docks at. Curacao to last the population an entire YO‘I' Whtt been-nu ot it is a question if “I! custom- oftioers of Venezuela 1" The houses are lIUlll in lht‘ DUN“ style, exactly like those in Hollandi the streets are so narrow ibzll the 1'90' Dle can almost Shake hands throw.m their windows with ' across the way, and the walls ,~ thick as Would be net-dell for afor- tmss- The Dutch Gowulot' lives in 3 solemn-looking old mansion {roullnl the Shattegat. or lalgnull. lhll form the harbor. guarded by a company of Stupid-looking soldiers with a few Old‘ fashioned cannon. The entire island 5 0‘ phosvhates. and the Government re oeives a revenue of $500,000 from com- panies that ship them away. The” 18 not a spring or a well or any in?“ entire' Water. and the inhabitants are .1? dependent upon rainwater for e;- ustenoe. or upon supplivs Waugh} " barrels by schooners from the New zuelan coast, ninetv miles away, or “P’ on distilled seawater. As sometimes 1‘ doesn’t rain for a year or the natural supply is often exhaus 3' 31m 0‘ imported water is 8-8 much as the same amount of Wine der of five republics lived in .banlih; ment for several years :qu wanted 0 rescue. ' Curacao is a Dutch Colony and the quaintest little island in the world. It has about 40,000 inhabitants andhu Played an imliortant part. in thehit itory of America. It has belongedtt idifferent tunes to Englunl, Spainani Holland. and its cozy harbor has but the scene of many a bloody battlul tween the navies of the Old World: well as between the pirates and but caneers that infested the (‘aribbeanfia for two centuries. It has been form years and still is an asylum for W" itical fugitives, and many 01 we xero- lutions that rack and wreck the re publics on the Spanish Main are hatch- ed under the shelter of the pretentioui but harmless fortresses that guard in Port. Bolivar, Santa Anna, and mill! other famous man in Spanish-Ameri- can history have lived thére in exile. and until recently there was an im' posing ca’stle upon one of the hilllt called Bolivar’s tower. There the foun- For I00 {mu-s :m .hp lum t‘nr rummnw- Ih'l‘s and Ilonu‘ M'smalll \ mc-riram [\Hn. And so. too. it hamiened that when two weary men. upon two foundered horses. arrived about {our in the mom- ing at the Sarras post offiae they look- ed at each other in silence and depm ed noiselessly with the conviction that there are some situations with which the English language is not capableoi dealing. Milbnm’a Heart and Nerve Pills cm Anumb. Nerv )USDGSE, Weakness, Sleep lecsness, Palpitation, Throbbmg, Him Spells, Dizziness or any condimm Irisi from Impoverishod Bioud, Disorde: Nerves or Weak Heart. one as follows: “ For I have suffered from w. breath and paipitul; The least excitoxm‘iit \'\ flutter, and at night I (- to sleep. After 1 :1”: 3 Nerve Pills I e:.p~r and on continuing 1M ment has been markmi symptoms are gone ar cured.” irregularity of minds y nervous system and under Mrs. H. L. Menzius, a 1" living at the Corner of King Streets, Brantford, .-IJver Pills clean Coated Tom; QUAINT CURACAO The End kg at, curaw an entire. 5 of Venezuel‘ 'or t Mm: 8L, 1 door North J: ‘1. “Maths-1 We are selling E from 40c. to $11 An Immense : Cream Cans . FIVE DIFFERE.‘ Our assortm’t 01 Granite and something exw Ifsyou want a J HIP exam'u - UPPER IMPLEMENI fatm and Said Be sure and see 6 Trial will specially for our HAY RAKES. 4 Smmxa Focus. 'l‘urni p 33qu “1 Farm Im manages, a 32W Wi PLQQG HS of Chin Willing); PIANOS