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A general Banking business trans- ! acted. Drafts issued and coliections made on ail points. Deposits re- ceived and interesr allowed at cur- Standald Bank of Canada. HEAD OFFICE. TORONTO: G. P. REID, â€"â€" â€"- MANAGER Inter-es: allowed posits of $1 and attention and ev customers living Agencies in all principal points in On- tario, Quebec, Manitoba, United States and England. DEERING Binders. Mowers, Rak’m and Twines. Wilkinson’s Plowx. Land Rollers and Diamond Smooth- ing Barrows. McGill Turnip Sowers, Dowsell’s Chums. Washers and ”Wringers, U. S. Cream Separators, Cameron 85 Dunn Hay Forks. UNDERTAKING PRICES CUT Also a First. Class Hearse always in connection. Em- balming a. speciaity. Furniture . . . Snowball and Chatham Wagons, Palmerston Buggies and Demo'crats. Also Grier Buggies,London. on hand. Also a Number of Horses for Sale. DU RH :X 31 . W001 . . Wanted Capital Authorized . . . $2,000,000 Paid Up ............. 1,000,000 Reserve Fund ........ 850.000 Custom Carqing aqd‘ Spin- 'A LARGE assortment of Twéeds, Yarns. Blankets and Flannels al- ways in stock. Ready-made Cloth. ing of the latest design kept in stock. Wagons, Buggies, Etc. DURfiAM AGENCY. '. P. SA UNDERS JOHN CLARK line of general repairs con- stantlv kept on hand here. PLOW POINTS and a full That is sure to please can always be purchased here. Machine Oil, Harness Oil, Axle Grease and H001 Ointment, go to THE SAVINGS BANK. c allowed on Savings Bank de- >f $1 and upwards. Prompt m and every facility afiorded am living at. a distance. The highest' price in Cash or Trade for any quantity. ning promptly stitcnded t5 and satisfaction guaranteed. KELLY, Agent. rent rates. The Harnessmaker DURHAM, ON '1‘. ONTARIO CHAPTER XXI. LETTERS FROM A QUEBX. EPON our return to England 1 ‘ left Jane down in Suffolk with her uncle. Lord Bolingâ€" _ . broke. having determined never to permit her to come within sight of King Henry again if I could prevent it. I then went up to London with the twofold purpose of seeing Brandon and resigning my place as master of the dance. When I presented myself to the king and told him of my marriage. he flew into a great passion because we had not asked his consent. One of his whims was that every one must ask his permission to do anythingâ€"to eat or sleep or say one’s prayers, especially to marry, if the lady was of a degree entitled to be a king’s ward. Jane, fortunately. had no estate. the king’s father having stolen it from her when she was an infant; so all the king could do about our marriage was to grumble, which I let him do to his heart’s con- tent. “I wish also to thank your majesty for the thousand kindnesses you have shown me.” I said. “and. although it grieves me to the heart to separate from you. circumstances compel me to tender my resignation as your master of dance.” Upon this he was kind enough to express regret and ask me to reconsider. but I stood my ground firmly. and then and there ended my official relations with Henry Tudor for- ever. Upon taking my leave of the king I sought Brandon. whom I found com- fortably ensconced in our old quarters. he preferring them to much more pre- tentious apartments offered him in an- other/part of the palace. The king had given him some new furnishings for them. and, as I was to remain a few days to attend to some matters of busi- ness, he invited me to share his com- fort with him. and I gladly did so. Those few days with Brandon were my farewell to individuality. There- after I was to be so mysteriously in- termingled with Jane that l was only a part â€"and a small part at that. 1 fear â€"of two. I did not, of course. regret the change. since it was the one thing in life I most longed for. yet the period was tinged with a faint sentiment of pathos at parting from the old life that had been so kind to me and which I, was leaving forever. I say I did not regret it. and. though I was leaving my old haunts and companions and friends so dear to me, I was finding them all again in Jane. who was friend as well as wife. Mary’s letter was in one of my boxes which had been delayed, and Jane was to l'z'):"~'~.':n'¢l it to me when it should WWW. When I told Brandon of it. I s! ml: with emphasis upon its bulk. an: be. of course. was delighted and l~ ' illlt‘llt to have it. I had put the letter in the box, but there was some- thing else which Mary had sent to him that I had carried with me. It was a sum of money snliicient to pay the debt against his father's estate and, in ad~ djtion, to buy some large tracts of land adjoining. Brandon did not hesitate to accept the money and seemed glad that it had come from Mary, she, doubt- less, being the only person from whom he would have taken it. One of B‘andon’s sisters had mar- ried a rich merchant at Ipswich, and another was soon to marry a Scotch gentleman. The brother would prob~ ably never marry. so Brandon would eventually have to take charge of the estates. In fact. he afterward lived there many years. and, as Jane and I had purchased a little estate near by, which had been generously added to by' Jane’s uncle, we saw a great deal of him. But I am getting ahead of my story again. The D’Angonleme complication trou- bled me greatly, notwithstanding my faith in Mary. and although I had re- solved to say nothing to Brandon about it, I soon told .him plainly what I thought and feared. “Do not fear for Mary. I do not. That young fellow is of different stuff. I know, from the old king, but I have all faith in her purity and ability to take care of herself. Before she left she promised to be true to me, what- ever befell, and I trust her entirely. I am not so unhappy by any means as one would expect. Am I? And I was compelled to admit that he certainly was not. He replied with a low, contented lit- tle laugh. So it seems they had met, as Jane and I suspected, but how Mary manag- ed it I am sure I cannot tell. She beat the very deuce for having her own way, by hook or by crook. Then came the bulky letter, which Brandon pounc- ed upon and eagerly devoured. I leave out most of the sentimental passages, @ich, like effervescent wine, lose fla- vor quickly. She said, in part: To Master Brandon: Sir and Dear Friend. Greetingâ€"After leaving thee. long time had I that mighty griet and dole within my heart that it was like to break, for my separation from thee was so much harder to bear even than I had taken thought or, and I also doubted me that I could live in Paris, as I did wish. Sleep rested not upon my weary eyes. and of a very deed could I neither eat nor drink. since food distasted me like a nausea and wine did, strangle my heartâ€" leaped for very joy. Beauty goeth so far with this inflammable people that easily do I rule them all, and truly doth a servile subject make a sharp. capri- cious tyrant. Thereby the misfortune which hath come upon us is of so much less evil and is so like to be of such short duration that I am almost happy, but for lack of thee, and sometimes think that after all it may verily be a blesslng unseen. when I did at Last rest mme eye's tor me first time upon this King Louis’ face I well knew that I could rule him, .and when I did arrive and had adjusted my- self in this Paris I found it so easy that This new, unexpected face upon our trouble hath so driven the old gnawing ache out of my heart that I love to be alone and dream, open eyed, of the time, of a surety not far 01!, when I shall be with thee. " "' " It is ofttimes sore hard for me, who have never waited, to have to wait. like a patient Griselda. which of a truth I am not, for this which I do so want, but I try to make myself content with the thought that full sure it will not be for long. and that when this tedious time hath spent itself we shall look back upon it as a very soul school. and shall rather joy that we did not purchase our heaven too cheaply. -- - Ir I said I find it easy to live here as I wish, and did begin to tell thee how it was when I ran off into telling of how I long for thee, so I will try again. This Louis, to begin with, is but the veriest shadow of a man, of whom thou needst have not one jealous thought. He is on a bed or sickness most of the time. of his own ac- cord, and it, perchance, he be but fairly well a day or so I do straightway make him ill again in one way or another, and. please God, hope to wear him out entirely ere long time. 01’ a deed. Brother Henry was right. Better had it been for Louis to have married a human devil than me. for it maketh a very one out of me if mine eyes but rest upon him, and thou know- est full well what kind of a devil I make. Brother Henry knoweth. at any rate. For all this do I grieve. but have no remedy nor want one. I sometimes do almost compassionate the old king. but I cannot forbear, for he turneth my very blood to biting gall, and must e'en take the conse- quences of his own folly. Truly is he wild for love of me. this poor old man. and the more I .hold him at a distance the more he fondly dotes. I do verily believe he would try to stand upon his foolish old head did I but insist. I sometimes have a thought to make him try it. He doeth enough that is senseless and ab- surd, in all conscience. as it is. At all of this do the courtiers smile and laugh and put me forward to other pranksâ€"that is. all but a few of the elders, who shake their heads, but dare do nothing else for fear of the dauphin. who will soon be king and who stands first in urging and abetting me. So it is easy for me to do what I wish. and above all to leave im- done that which 1 wish not. for I do easily rule them all. as good Sir Edwin and dear Jane will testify. l have a ball every night wherein I do make a deal of amuse- ment for every one by dancing La Volta with his majesty until his heels. and his poor old head. too. are like to fall off. Others importune me for those dances. esx‘urcially the dauphin. but I laugh and shake. my iuad and say that I will dance with no one but the king. because he dances so Well. 'l‘lzis pleases his majesty mightily and maizvth an opening for me to await.) the much of other men. for i am jealous ui' myself for thy sake. and save and garner (-verv title touch for thee. * '“ ' Sir ELEWEH will tell you i dance with no one else and surely new-r will. \ou remember \\ ell. I doubt not. when thou first didst te 10h me. this new dance. Ah, how delightful it was. and yet how at first it did frighten and anger me. 'l‘hou canst not know how mv heart beat during all the time of that first dance. I thought. of u sux'etx it would burst. and then the wild thrill of frightened ecstusv that mad; my blood run like fire! I knew it must be wrong. for it .vas. in truth too sweet :1 thing to be right. And then I grew angrv at thee as the cause of my n-w- â€"‘_- wrongdoing and scolded thee. and repented it. as usual. Truly didst thou conquer, not win, me. Then afterward. withal it so frightened me. how 1 longed to dance av I'voâ€"vâ€"vv- (16“ 9.51.1:1 and could in no wav “stay 1115563113 {101:1 asking. At times could I hardly v.-:“t till evening fell. and when upon oc- casion thou didst not come I was so angry I said I hated thee. What must than have thou'fit of me', so for uni and bold! And 0‘ that (afternoon! Ah, I think of it every hour. and see_and hear it all and live it o'er and o’er. as it sweeter grows with memory’s ripening touch. Some moments there are that send their glad ripple down through life’s stream to the verge of the grave, and truly blest is one who can smile upon and kiss these memory waves and draw from thence a bliss that never falls; but thou knowest full Well my heart, and I need not tease thee with its out- pourings. There is yetcanether matter of which 1 wish to write in very earnestness. Sir Edwin spoke to me thereof, and what he said hath given me serious thought. I thank him for his words, of which he will tell thee in full if thou but importune him thereto. It is this: The dauphin, Francis d'Angoulcme, hath fallen des- perately fond of me and is quite as im- portunate and almost as foolish as the elder lover. This people in this strange land of France have. in sooth, some curi- ous notions. For an example thereto, no one thinks to find anything unseeming in the dauphin’s conduct by reason of his having already a wire, and more, that wife the Princess Claude. daughter to the king. I laugh at him and let him say what, he will, for in truth I am powerless to prevent it. Words cannot scar even a rose leaf and will not harm me. Then, by his help and example. I am justified in the eyes 0: the court in that I so treat the king, which otherwise it were impossible for me to do and live here. So, however much I may loathe them. yet I am driven to tolerate his words, which I turn on with a laugh, making sure, thou mayest know, that it come to nothing more than words. And thus it is,‘ however much I wish it not, that I do use him to help me treat the king as I like, and do then use the poor old king as my buckler ag t this duke’s too great familiarity. But, y friend, when the king comes to die, then shall I' have my tears of this young Francis d’Angouleme. He is desperate for me, and I know not to what length he might go. The king cannot live long, as the thread of his life is like rotten flax. 1 "Regina!” That was all. Only a _ queen! Surely no one could charge ; Brandon with possessing too modest . tastes. wâ€" wvâ€"V- It was, I think. during the second week in December that I gave this let- ter to Brandon, and about a fortnight later there came to him a messenger. from Paris, bringing another from Mary, as follows: ' Master Charles Brandon: Sir and Dear Friend, Greetingâ€"I have but time to write that the king is so ill he cannot but die ere morning. Thou know- est that which I last wrote to thee. and in addition thereto I would say that al- though I have, as thou likewise knowest. my brother’s permission to marry whom I wish, yet as I have his one consent it is safer that we act upon that rather than be so scrupulous as to ask for another. So it were better that than take me to wife upon the old one rather than risk the necessity of having to do it without any. I say no more. but come with all the speed thou knowest. MARY. It is needless to say that Brandon started in haste for Paris. He left court for the ostensible purpose of paying me a visit, and came to Ipswich. whence we sailed. The French king was dead before Mary’s message reached London. and when we arrived at Paris Francis 1. reigned on the throne of his father-in- law. I had guessed only too.accurate- ly. As soon as the restraint of the old king’s presence. light as it had been. was removed, the young king opened his attack upon Mary in dreadful ear- nest. He hegged and pleaded and swore his love. which was surely manifest enough, and within three days after the old king’s death oflfered to divorce Claude and make Mary his queen. When she refused this flatter- ing offer, his surprise was genuine. “Do you know what you refuse?” he asked in a temper. “I offer to make you my wifeâ€"queen of 15,000,000 of the greatest subjects on earthâ€"and are you such a fool as to refuse a gift like that, and a man like me for a husband?” “That I am, your majesty, and with a good grace. ,I am queen of France without your help and care not so much as one penny for the honor. It is great- er to be a princess of England. As for this love you avow, I would make so bold as to suggest that you have a good, true wife, to whom you would do well to give it all. To me it is noth- ing. even were you a thousand times the king you are. My heart is anoth- er's. and I have my brother’s permis- sion to marry him." “Another’s? }od's soul! Tell me who this fellow is that I may spit him on my sword!” “N o, no! You wodld not. Even were you as valiant and grand as you think yourself. you would be but a child in his hands.” As soon as Brandon and I arrived in Paris we took private lodgings. and well it was that we did. I at once went out to reconnolter. and found the “idowed queen a prisoner in the old Palace des Tournelles. With the help of Queen Claude I secretly obtained an interview and learned the true state of affairs. l~‘ -ancis was furious. and had Mary’s apartments guarded to prevent her es- cape, swearing he would have his way. Had Brandon been recognized and his mission known in Paris he would certainly have been assassinated by order of Francis. When I saw the whole situation. with Mary nothing less than a prisoner in the palace. I was ready to give up without a struggle. but not so Mary. Her brain was worth having. so fer- tile x'as it in expedients. and. while I was ready to despair. she was only getting herself in good fighting order. After Mary’s refusal of Francis. and after he had learned that the sacrifice of Claude would not help him. he grew desperate and determined to keep the English girl in his court at any price and by any means. So he hit upon the scheme of marrying her to his weak minded cousin. the Count of Savoy. To that end he sent a hurried embassy to Henry \'III.. offering, in case of the Savoy marriage. to pay back Mary’s dower of. 400.000 crowns. He otl'ered to help Henry in the matter of the impe- rial crown in case of Maximilian’s death. a help much greater than any King Louis could have given. He also ofl‘ered to confirm Henry in all his French possessions and to relinquis: all claims of his own theretoâ€"all as the price of one eighteen-y iar-old girl. Do you wonder she had an exalted esti- mate of her own valiie‘? ' As to Henry, it of course need not be said that half the price offered would have bought him to break an oath made upon the true cross itself. The promise he had made to Mary, broken in intent before it was given. stood not for an instant in the way of the French king’s wishes. and Henry. with a promptltude begotten of greed, was as hasty in sending an embassy to accept the ofler as Francis had been to‘ make it. It mattered not to him what new torture .he put upon his sister. The price, I believe, was sufficient to have induced him to cut oi! her head with his own hands. If Francis and Henry were quick in their movements, Mary was quicker. Her plan was made in the twinkling of an eye. Immediately upon seeing me at the palace she sent for Queen Claude, with whom she had become fast friends. and mid her all she knew. She am not know of the scheme for the Savoy marriage, though Queen Claude did and fully explained it to Mary. Naturally enough, Claude would be glad to get Mary as far away from France and her husband as possible. and was only too willing to lend a helping hand to our purpose, or Mary’s. rather, for she was the leader. We quickly agreed among ourselves that Mary and Queen Claude should within an hour go out in Claude’s new coach for the ostensible purpose of hearing mass. Brandon and I were to go to the same little chapel in which Jane and I had been married. where Mary said the little priest could admin- ister the sacranwut of marriage and perform the cerexttony as well as if he were thrice as large. I hurriedly found Brandon and re- paired to the litttc chapel. where we waited for a very 1‘ mg time. we thought. At last the two queens entered as if to make their devmions. As soon as Brandon and Mary caught sight of each other Queen Claude and I began to examine the shrines and decipher the Latin inscriptions. If these two had not married soon, they would have been the death of me. I was compelled at length to remind them that time was very precious just at that juncture. whereupon Mary, who was half laugh- ing, halt crying, lifted her hands to her hair and let it fall in all its lustrous wealth down over her shoulders. When Brandon saw this, he fell upon his knee and kissed the hem of her gown. and she, stooping over him. raised him to his feet and placed her hand in his. He fell upon his knee and kissed the hem. of her gown. Thus Mary was married to the man to save whose life she had four month: before married the French king. She and Queen Claude had forgotten nothing, and all arrangements were completed for the flight. A messenger had been dispatched two hours before with an order from Queen Claude that a ship should be waiting at Dieppe ready to sail immediately upon our arrival. After the ceremony Claude quickly bound up Mary’s hair, and the queens departed from u chapel in their coach. We soon followed. meeting them again at St. Denis gate. where we found the best of horses and four sturdy men awaiting us. The messen- ger to Dieppe who had preceded us would arrange for relays. and. as Ma- ry. according to her wont when she had another to rely upon. had taken the opportunity to become thoroughly frightened. no time was lost. \Ve made these forty leagues in less than twenty- four hours from the time of starting. having paused only for a short rest at a little town near Rouen. which city we carefully passed around. We had little fear of being overtaken at the rate we were riding. but Mary said she supp sod the wind would die down for a month immediately upon our arrival at Dieppe. Fortunately no one pursued us. thanks to Queen Claude. who had spread the report that Mary was ill, and. fortunately also. much to Mary's surprise and delight. when we arrived at Dieppe. as fair a wind as a sailor's heart could wish was blowing right up the channel. It was a part of the system of relaysâ€"horses. ship and wind. “When the very Wind blows for our special use. we may surely dismiss fear ” said M: rv. l:u.:hi 1:: and clap- ping her 1.:mds.bvt 119:: :13. ready for tears not“ ithsmnding. very necessary to his amusement, and amusement was his greatest need and aim in life. Mary and I went to London to see the king, having: landed at Southamp- ton tor. the purpose of throwing oi! the In cake of Henry’s consent, how they were to- live in a style fit for a prin- cess Brandon did not know unless Hen- ry should open his heart and provide for them, a doubtfu'l contingency upon which theg7 did not base much hope. At a pinch they might go down into Suflolk and live next to Jane and me on Brandon’s estates“. To this Mary vâ€" â€"â€"_v.. readily agreed, and said it was what she wanted above all else. There was one thing now in favor of the king's acquiescence. During the last three months Brandon had become scent any one who might seek the ship. The king was delighted to see his sis- ter. and kissed her over and over again. Mary had as hard a game to play as ever tell to the lot or woman. but she was equal to the emergency it any wo- man ever was. She did not give Henry the slightest hint that she knew any- thing of the Count of Savoy episode. but calmly assumed that of course her brother had meant literally what he said when he made the promise as to the second marriage. The king soon asked: “But what are you doing here? They have hardly buried Louis as yet. have they?” “I am sure I do not know,” answered Mary, “and I certainly care less. I married him only during his life and not for one moment afterward, so I came away and left'them to bury him or keep him. as they choose; I care not which.” “But”â€" began 11mm, when Maryiu- terrupted him, sax ing. “I will tell you”â€" I had taken good care that Wolsey should he present at this interview. So we fourâ€"the king. Wolsey, Mary and myselfâ€"quietly stepped into a lit- tle alcove away from the others and prepared to listen to Mary's tale, which was told with all her dramatic elo- quence and feminine persuasiveness. She told of the ignoble insults of Fran- cis, of his vile proposalsâ€"insisted up- on. almost to the point of forceâ€"care- fully concealing, however. the offer to divorce Claude and make her queen. which proposition might have had its attractions for Henry. She told of her imprisonment in the Palace des Tour- nelles and of her deadly peril and many indignities, and the tale lost nothing in the telling. Then she tin- ished by throwing her arms around Henry’s neck in a passionate flood of tears and begging him to protect her. to save her. save her. save her. his lit- tle sister! It was all such perfect acting that for the time I forgot it was acting. and a great lump swelled up in my throat. it was. however. only for the iristant. and when Mary, whose face was hid- den from all the others on Henry's breast. smiled slyly at me from the midst of her tears and sobs. I burst into a laugh that was like to have spoiled everything. Henry turned quickly up- on me. and l trie; to cover it by pre- tending that l was sobbing. Wolsey helped me out by putting a corner of his gown to his ryes. when Henrv. see ing us all so ai’fetted began to catch the lever and swell with indigz ation. He put Mary away from him and. striding up and down the room. ex- claimed in a voice that all could hear: "The dog, the dog. to treat my sister so! My sister! My father's daughter! My sister! The first princess of ling- land and queen of l-‘rance for his mis- txess. ' By every god that ever breathed. lll chastise this scurvy enr until he howls again. l swear it by my crown. if it cost me my kingdom." and so on until words failed illlll ’ut see how he kept his oa th, and see how he and Francis hobnobbed not long afterward at the Field of the Cloth of Gold. Henry came back to Mary and began to question her, when she repeated the story for him. Then it was she told of my timely arrival. and how. in order tc escape and protect herself from Fran- cis. she had been compelled to marry Brandon and flee with us. Sho said: “I so wanted to come home to England and [)0 married where my dear brother could give me away. but I was in such mortal dread of Francis. and there was no other means of es- cape. so"â€" “God’s death! If I had but one other sister like you, I swear before heaven I‘d have myself hanged. Married to Brandon! Fool! Idiot! What do you mean? Married to Brandon! Jesu! You’ll drive me mad! Just one other like you in England. and the whole damned kingdom might sink. .l'd have none of it. Married to Brandon with- out my consent!" Mary, and her eyes burned softly, and her whole person fairly :11de 80 expressive was she of the tact that “it was diaerent.” Different? Yes, as light from dark nus: as love from loathing; as heaven, Henry looked at her in surprise and then burst out laughing, “Married to Brandon with your hair down?” And he roared again. holding his sides. “Well, you do beat the devil. There’s no denying that. Poor old Louis! That was a good joke on hiin. I’ll stake my crown be was'glad to die! You kept it warm enough for him, I make no doubt.” “Well,” said Mary. with a little shrug of her shoulders. “he would “Yes, and now poor Brandon doesn’t know the trouble ahead of him either. He has my pity, by Jove!” it '3” “No, no, brother.” answered Mary softly. leaning afioctionately against his bulky form. “Do you SU]:;::):~'0 I would do that? Now. don‘t be unkind tom me when l have been away from \ou so Ion”! You gave your consent four months ago. Do you not rvmom- ber? You know I would never have done it otherwise.” “Yes. I know! You would not do anythingâ€"you did not want. and it seems equally certain that in 11w om] you always manage to do ovm-yzhing you do want. Hell and fizz-Zest" n