—
| IN THE RELIGIOUS WOULD |
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Whit the Church Folk Are Thinking About end Doing. \ijj
\£jjj News From Various Lends. Suggestive Words From Many Men.
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....Sunday School Lcaaon and Youn/J Peoplej Topic..., ^
Comments by William T. Ellis.
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4 JO 'vl/z 'JUP MU' MU' MU' MU' MU' MU' Mss' MS' MS' u
WHEN MEN FINJ LEVEL
i
Kipling’s "Ship Thill Found Herself
came to that knowledge In the storm.
Trouble tesla; It Is the acid which
proves whether one’s metal be gold or
brass. Before the presence of a real
sorrow all artificial distinctions among
men flee away. The king at his son’s
bier is no longer a king, hut only an
anguished father.
The nobleman who figures centrally
In the story which Is today's Sunday
school lesson moved In another world
from Jesus. He was in "society;”
Jesus was beyond the pale, with the:
other poor people. The humble rabbi
Would doubtless not have been a wel
come guest at this high official’s resi
dence. Between the two was an in
superable social barrier; and It would
have been an Insult to the nobleman
to aRk which one of the two was the
greater.
But when trouble came, and when he
was face to face with an elemental
gilef—such a passion as moved In the
breast of a father In the stone age—
the nobleman was forced to take his
place us a suppliant at the feet of
Jesus. Then the men found their re
spective levels, and it was the great
one who was looking upward. For all
bis hope for the health of his son lay
111 the compassion of this wonder work
ing Teacher. Men get along pretty
well In the serene days without rellg
Ion, and they even affect to look down
upon the preacher; but when death
comes knocking at the door of their
homes they send for the man of (loci
in a hurry. As the epigrammatist has
put it, "Some men have to be thrown
flat on their backs before they will
look up to heaven.”
I ne rteauy ureat uursticns.
The president of the United Stoles,
who Is famous ns n preacher, has re
cently pointed out that the real “living
Issues" are not those which concern
the tariff, the trusts, international
treaties, and like questions of state
craft; but that they are rather those
problems which concern the home, the
family and Ihe moral character of the
Individual. If a man's wife Is lying at
the point of death he cares little
whether a high or low tariff Is In ef
fect. The conduct of a Hist born son,
who Is Inclined to be wild, the progress
of an only daughter at school, the cun
ning ways of a new child or grand
child—these are matters of greater mo
ment to a man than any of the busi
ness. deals to which he devotes his
days.
What did Herod’s chief steward care
about his title or position or honors,
while his boy suffered? The one pro
foundly Interesting subject lu all the
world to him was the son's health.
Nothing else counted In his sight Just
then. And it was In this Intensely
human attitude that he approached
Jesus for succor. The Master would
not have cared about any question of
title or property; but he could not re
sist the appeal of a needy spirit. Kor
it Is as such that men have access to
God; not as kings and lords and aris
tocrats and plutocrats, but simply as
living souls craving help.
The Briefest Biorraphy.
Peter condensed the biography of
Jesus Into live words—"Who went
about doing good." Service was His
life mission. He could not resist an
appeal to help people. This father
found Ihe softest side of the Master
when he came supplicating assistance.
We are nearer to God In our need than
In our self sufficiency. The publican's
prayer for help Is heard while the
pharisee’s boast of self sufficiency is
wasted. The best possible credentials
for approaching God Is a consciousness
of necessity and helplessness.
So great 'was this father’s sense of
urgent need that he same up from the
city of Capernaum, where his home
uas, to the town of Cana, when h<
found Jesus was there. The story of
the first miracle at Cana, when the
water was made wine, was undoubted
ly familiar to him, and he knew that
onlv such supernatural ppwer as was
then displayed could save the little one
who lay ut the point of death. He did
not wait for Jesus to come to Caper
naum, he fulfilled the lirst condition
of a miracle t>y doing everything In his
own power to bring about the desired
result. Official etiquette might have
required that he send a servant with
a message to the Healer to come down,
but parental love could not wait upon
the ways of ceremony. Indeed, In his
Insistent request that Jesus should
come down to Capernuum at once, we
see the selfishness of sorrow; he had
not thought of the possible weariness
of Jesus, or anything else than his
own great need, which he believed the
Master could supply. Patients show
small consideration for doctors.
I he world s ureat Need.
The etory Is altogether a lesson in
faith. That is why It Is told. With
all his shortcomings the nobleman real
ly believed In Christ. He hud that
genius for faith which Is the deepest
quality of rare spirits. The cynicism
of ancient Home, which likewise curses
our own time, had not touched him, or
else Its veneer had been swept away
by tbe torrent of his grief. The noble
man displayed that which the Son of
Mun sajw He will seek In the earth
when He returns again—faith.
It must be granted that much of the
culture of our day runs to a shallow
cynicism. The average man of the
world is Inclined to scoff at piety, at
honor, at Innocence, at virtue. He does
not believe 'n people; he does not be
lieve in himself. He thinks he is wiser
than he was In hla trustful boyhood
days, and counts himself vastly super
ior ho the humble folk who still hold to
an old fashioned God and to the old
fashioned virtues. Yet he will admit
that he finds little In life to enjoy;
bis unbelief gives him no happiness;
bis world-weariness has turned to
ashes all the sweet fruits that he puts
to hls lips. Pity him, and all like him.
Grammar Wastes Time.
Kugene Wood in February McClure’s
Why. look here. It’s a rule of gram
mar Isn't It. that the subject of a
sentence must be put in the nomina
tive case? Let it kick and bite, and
hang on the desks all it wants to. in
It goes and the door is slammed on it.
You think so? What Is the word
“you?’’ Second person, plural num
ber, objective case. Oh, no; the nom
inative form is "ye." Don't you re
member it says; "Woe unto you, ye
lawyers?" Those who fight against
“him and me went down,” fight against
the stars in their courses, for the ob
jectlve case in every language is
bound and determined to be "the
whole thing." Arithmetic alone Is
founded on a rock. All else is fleeting,
all else is futile, chaotic—a waste of
time. What is reading but a rival of
morphine? There are probably as
many men in prison, sent there by
reading, as by rum.
"Oh. not good reading!" says the
publisher.
Fight it out! It’s an even thing be
tween the two of you; literature and
liquor, books and booze—which can
take a man's mind oft his business most
effectually.
Yes, Indeed.
“Ah, my poor man,” said the house
wife; "I suppose you have been In
many a tight place?"
"Yes, indeed, mum," responded the
tramp. "I was In ten saloons yester
day and every one was tight In each
place.”
Light Literature.
Washington Star: "You’re getting
gloomier every day," said the sollcttious
friend. "Why don’t you read some
light literature?”
“That’s the trouble now. I've been
reading my gas biU.'
AA AA1 AA AA AA - - 1 VIII i 1J M V \H II ' M y
who have lost that priceless treasure,
a capacity for faith. To live at all in
happiness we must, trust; belter death
than total unbelief In men and God.
The Fire in Wales.
What the father asked was nothing
less than life itself. It was a daring
request. Hut It was justified. For this
Man had life to give. That was His
mission "I am come that ye might
have life." The distressed father
asked greatly, and greatly was he re
warded. For he accepted in confidence
the simple assurance, "Go thy way;
thy son Uveth." True, there were
twenty-five miles between Physician
and patient, and the like of this wonder
hud never been known before. Never
theless, he believed, and It was done
unto him according to his faith.
Is the story any more wonderful
than that which the cable and the malls
have brought us from unimpeachable
sources during recent weeks? Almost
the entire nation of Wales is aflame
with a revival of religion which has
brought forth wonderful fruits In
transformed lives and communities,
and which can be explained only on a
supernatural basis. The revival was
not “organized” or managed; it burst
forth almost simultaneously. In widely
remote districts, without the presence of
an evangelist or the expectation of the
persons affected. Is this any the less a
"sign" than this second miracle at
Cana, which was the healing of a
1 nobleman's son? Or what shall be said
• of the lives known personally to every
> reader of these words that have been
wholly transformed at the (ouch of re
: liglon?
THE REAL KNIGHTHUUU.
The paradoxial Christ is the author
of the new universal law which de
clares that they are the greatest who
serve the most, and that there Is no
higher honor than simple helpfulness.
He Hltnself came to earln to be a
king, but He proved His- royalty by
His ministry. In all the reaches of His
career there was' not a single life
touched that was too lowly to be freely
accorded Ills service. The blind beg
gar, the leper, the outcast, the publi
can, and the great multitude of the
undiscerning and unappreciative—of
them all there was none to
whom He did not lavishly pour
out Ills best in humble ministry. He
literally “emptied Himself, taking the
form of a servant.” “Wherefore," the
narrative significantly Continues, ‘‘God
highly exalted Him, and gave unto
Him the name which is above every
name; thut in the name of Jesus every
knee should bow, of things in heaven
and things on earth and things under
the earth, and that every tongue should
confess that Jesus Christ Is Hord."
Service is the badge of true knight
hood.
The pessimist is not prone to with
hold his word of gloom, and we have
all heard how this good world of ours
Is growing worse and worse; that truth
ami honor and loveliness have flown;
and that only selfishness reigns. One
good antidote for all such pessimism
Is to sit down and count over the men
and women and institutions, within
i one's personal knowledge, that are
following in the train of the self-deny
ing Jesus. Consider those who are
spending themselves for love's sake,
the servants of humanity, the friends
of the race. Watch for the self-abne
gating acts of helpfulness which ure
daily being performed on every hand.
'I’hen ask yourself, "Can this be a bad
world which Is so thoroughly leavened
with the spirit of Jesus?”
Who is the “prime minister" of a
state, but its first servant? And where
do the undershepherds of Christ get
their title of "ministers," except by
\irtue of having devoted themselves to
the service of the flock. So trans
formed has the world become by the
teachings of the lowly Messiah, that
today "minister" is a title of honor,
more proudly worn than that of mas
ter.
oeu-surreimer is me nrsi taw oi
heaven; self-interest Is the first lmv of
hell.
Service Is the livery of heaven.
A baby's interests all center in him
self. He has no thought for others.
Complete ami unmitigated selllshness
Is the law of Infancy. That all of life
should minister to him is natural; to
his baby eyes people, things, the moon
in the sky. exist only for his service.
This is because he Is a baby. As he
grows older he attains a better knowl
edge of the scheme of things. He
perceives that he must give as well as
get, serve as well as he served. And
when he has reached manhood's stat
ure he discerns, unless his spirit
growth lias been stunted, that the
noblest law of life, the highest pur
pose of existence. Is self-surrendering
ministry to other people.
Service Is Immortal. They live for
ever who live In other lives.
The women's magazines abound In
prescriptions for looking beautiful. All
of them are superficial, for there Is no
mbre distressing or painful face to be
seen on the street or In the drawing
room than that of the woman who has
given years to the cultivation of her
appearance and at last finds her most
frantic efforts unable to overtake the
| course of nature. True beauty is soul
I deep. The faces that excite pleasure
. and love In the breasts of beholders are
I the faces tilled with the light of a beau
|tiful spirit, faces on which is written
. the story of a heart of unselfishness.
* There is no cosmetic to equal self-sac
rificing service. That is why so many
of our saintly mothers come to old age
In a sweet and mellow ripeness of
countenance that is nothing less than
real beauty.
On this continent the idler is made
to feel uncomfortable. No matter how
great Ills wealth, unless he wants to
be looked upon as a fool or a weakling,
he is expected to do something to jus
tify his existence. Service Is counted
manly. The world honors its workers,
| but most of all those who work for the
| world's weal.
Service is the only true standard of
i success.
By a few strong strokes Robert K
Speer outlines in The Sunday School
Times the principle of service as it
animated Jesus. ‘The Son of God vol
untarily chose this life of service. It
was a Moral’ self-limitation of his life.
He re ff ted the principle of the world,
and asserted instead a different prin
ciple—self-restraint, not self-assertion;
self-sacrifice, not self-indulgence. He
took upon him the form of a servant.
No one compelled him to do it. He
chose It. Here is a lesson for us—the
glory of voluntary self-limitation. Some
one says: 'Oh, I don't propose to be
looked down upon. I am going to have
my rights. I intend to attain to a
place of power and authority. Self-ab
negation Is not my doctrine. I believe
in assertion, push, In getting my share
No one shall walk over me.’ How dll’
ferent the way of Jesus! He humble-',
himself. He took on him the form of n
servant. He submitted to shame and
death. And now? Is there any throne
above His throne?"
Service is (he royal road to greatness.
Selfishness is the supreme heresy;
service the supreme orthodoxy. No man
who, in tlie fashion of Jesus, pours out
his life for ills fellswmen, can he far
from the kingdom of heaven; while, on
the other hand, no amount of crying,
“Lord, Lord,” can take the place of
obedience to God’s will for human wel
fare.
NEWS AND NOTES.
The 12th of February Is appointed by
the World's Student Federation as a
day of prayer for students.
New Hampshire has a commission
representing the leading denominations
which aims to cover the over-church
ing of small towns and the promotion
of comity among the churches.
New York’s "hotel chaplain," Rev. Dr
W. Warren, Is now holding religious
services In the dining rooms of a num
ber of hotels. I)r. Warren devotes his
entire time to ministering to hotel
guests.
The leading figure in the religious re
vival which is sweeping over Wales Is
Evan Roberts, a miner, 2fi years old,
who is preparing to enter the ministry.
He is said to have no eccentricities.
Bishop Warren of the Methodist Epis
copal church says that "Ten times as
many children have been taught In
Porto Rico during the six years ol
American administration as in the 40C
previous years of Spanish misrule.
The fight in England over the edu
cation bill, which the members of the
non-conformist churches say Is a battle
for religious liberty, has been made
more acute by a decision of the courts
disfranchising those "passive resist
ance” ministers who have refused to
pay the obnoxious rate.
In Germany the social democracy has
become so bitterly anti-Christian, even
disbarring church members from ail of
fice, that a reaction has set in, and
“Christian unions" of workingmen are
now being formed. These latter are by
no means necessarily members of
churches or believers therein, but they
protest against the avowed infidelity of
the social democracy.
The first instance of the union of
churches of several different countries
has recently been effected in India.
Seven Presbyterian bodies, representing
denominations in the United States,
Canada, Scotland and Ireland, have
now become one national Indian
church. The seven bodies thus amal
gamated are represented in all parts of
India and comprise both missionaries
and native converts.
An outgrowth of the parliament of re
ligions at the Chicago fair was the
foundation of the Haskell lectures in
India. The third lecturer in this course
chosen to address Hindu scholars upon
the subject of Christianity was Presi
dent Charles Cuthbert Hall of Union
Theological seminary, New York, who
was so successful in reaching the uni
versity men of the east that he has
again been appointed to deliver the lec
tures.
Three missionary cows were taken to
Hingua, South China, last month by a
Methodist missionary. When this mis
sionary went to China fourteen years
ago no native cows had ever been used
for dairy purposes, but only ns beasts
of burden. Under the American’s In
structions from two to four quarts of
milk a day was obtained from ihe cows
and sold ns medicine for Ihe sick and
for infants at a rate corresponding to
bout a dollar a quart in this country.
The three selected animals that have
just been taken to China are expected
to rase ttie quality of the Chinese cows
to the point of producing ten or twelve
quarts a day, thus greatly benefittlng
the poor.
SEVEN SENTENCE SERMONS.
Obedience is the organ of spirltua.
knowledge.—Robertson.
Life is not so short but that there Is.
always time enough for courtesy.—Knv
erson.
Why comes temptation, but for man ti,
meet
And master and make crouch beneath his
feet.
And so be pedestaled In triumph?
—Robert Browning.
The way to preserve the peace of the
churcji Is to preserve the purity of it.—
Matthew Henry.
Heaven's gates are not so highly
arched as princes’ palaces: they that
enter there must go upon their knees.
—Webster.
Life is a leaf of paper white.
Whereupon each one of us may write
His word or two, and then comes night.
Greatly begin! Though thou have time
But for a line, be that sublime.
Not failure, but low aim is crime.
—Lowell.
What is the true test of character
unless it be its progressive development
in the bustle and turmoil, the action,
and reaction, of daily life?—Goethe.
Timing an Egg.
London Truth: Cooks are often ac
cused of want of method, but the Aunt
Dinah in Howard Paul’s new egg story
is not open to any such reproach. In
variably, when she put the eggs in a
saucepan she began singing "Rock of
Ages,” and sang through two verses.
"Aunt Dinah,” asked Mr. Paul, “are
there not three verses In that hymn?"
“Dar is, massa, but I sings only two
when l wants 'em soft and three when
I wants ’em hard.”
His other egg story Is good. too. He
was traveling on a Pennsylvania rail
way, and when his breakfast was
brought, the eggs were underdone.
"What time are we making on this
train?” he asked the waiter.
"A mile a minute, sir.”
"Then boil the eggs another mile
and they'll be quite right.”
i! IN THE SHADOW OF SHAME
I *- - --
| Copyright 1901 by Anlb or of " Th« Oi. •(
! _ ,. u „ D»»liny." "An E*c«l
• T F.ti«.r«ld Mnll.y l.n« Kr.n...” Etc
»> -»-nn. ~„ - ^.n. .
Maekworth on leaving the hospital
lrove directly to the flat in which Va
erius Galbraith lived. Gaining this,
he Inspector was at once admitted and
ihown into the handsomely furnished
fitting room, where he waited with the
mpatlence of one who haB important
jusiness to communicate; taking off
tis gloves, stretching, and placing
;hem on the table, opening his greut
: toat, glancing at himself in the glass,
ind smoothing down his hair mean
. ;lme.
It was 7 o'clock when he entered the
•oom, but half an hour had elapsed be
fore Valerius uppeared, attired in even
: ng dress, his Inverness cape on one
irm, his gloves in his right hand, his
l 'air, handsome face lightly flushed, an
tir of grace and distinction In the
Tioveinents of his slight, well made fig
| ire.
} “Kxcuse me for having kept you so
i ong," he said, "but I was dressing for
linner, to which 1 am going out."
I “I would not have disturbed you,
I dr, but that I have something very
| lerious to say.” replied Maekworth de
lberatcly and reprovingly, he being
lispleased at having to wait so long.
| "Very serious?” replied Valerius. "I
| im sorry to have-then pausing
luddenly in his sentence as his eyes
' net Maikworth's. he added in a quick,
mxious voice, "You have tua'de a dls
I ;overy?”
| "Not exactly a discovery—but the
nari I suspected——"
"Who is that?" Velerius demanded
fharply.
"The man you spoke of a couple of
lays ago "
"Oh. Mr. Rostock, of course! Is he
lead?” Gailbraith asked, as he flung
tis gloves and cloak upon the; table.
"Not yet."
"Then what about him?"
"He has made a confession.”
A conression :
"Of the murder of David Durnbar
;on."
Valerius seized the chair nearest
lira, and then remained motionless and
wordless, the questioning, penetrating
ook in his eyes, (he strained, intense
lugerness on his face showing the in
erest he felt.
"Early in the afternoon." continued
he inspector, "the house surgeon saw
Hr. Bostock had not long to live, and
when this was made plain to him he
tt once expressed his desire to make
i testamentary statement, when Mr.
fforis was sent for, and the confession
aken down in a formal manner in the
he presence of u magistrate."
"Arid he clearly confessed that he
lad killed David Dumbarton?" said
Valerius, the concern he felt apparent
n the troubled tones of his voice.
"They met that night in the Hixton
■oad when a quarrel arose which ended
n a fatal blow,” the inspector said.
"That was how It happened?"
“As I suspected.”
"Bostock still lives?”
"For all I know he may be dead at
his moment."
"He cannot recover?"
■ “His death is but a question of time."
"And Mrs. Dumbarton's innocence is
proved ?"
"Beyond doubt."
Valerius, after a second's profound
itlence, walked to the end of the room
ind touched the little knob of an elec
riv bell. When it was answered he
jade the servant bring brandy and
loda, and these having been placed be
fore him, he liberally helped his guest
ind himself. His throat had been dry,
; lis nerves unstrung, and this stimulant
lelped to renovate and steady him.
"Here is the end of this terrible sus
pense and mystery," he said, as he set
lown his empty tumbler.
"An unexpected turning, sir.”
"Ah! but a welcome ending," Valer
! us exclaimed triumphantly,
j "Welcome?” queried the Inspector,
•aising his brows.
! “Why not? If he had not spoken you
night never have been able to find
■ tour man, never.”
“I won’t say that, sir."
j “You won’t?”
| "I was on his track; I had suspected
Jim for some time, and I must have
j found the evidence I sought sooner or
i uter."
"be content that it Is sooner, and
'.hat he has escaped the penalty of his
irime,” said Valerius cheerfully.
"But I don't get the credit of making
:his discovery."
"Who was ever yet satisfied?” said
Valerius laughingly; and then out of
he full measure of his good humor,
dunking he could afford to be compli
mentary, he added, “and besides, the
lorce does not need another proof of
four cleverness."
"For all that I should like to have
liven one," replied Mackworth, well
pleased by the words he had heard.
“And now,” Valerius remarked in a
more sober tone, "Mrs. Dumbarton
must hear of this at once."
“You will tell her, sir."
“I will drive there straight."
"But your dinner?”
"I have no appetite now. I will tele
graph to those who expected me. and
then bring my cousin the welcome
news that she is freed from this dam
nable charge. Have some more brandy.
Vo more? Then I will, for my throat
Is still as dry as a limekiln." And once
more Valerius helped himself freely,
ind emptied his glass at a draught.
The Inspector looked with admiration
it Galbraith’s handsome face, which
was flushed with gratification and tri
umph, and lighted by eyes that spark
led with pleasure and excitement. The
melancholy, weariness and depression
that had clung to an oppressed him
since his hasty return to England to
find his cousin charged with a terrible
i prime, suddenly vanished now her in
nocence was about to be establised. and
his old vivacity, buoyancy and mirth
returned to hind.
“Now I am off," he said cheerfully,
“and never had man a happier message
to bring a woman."
) "I quite envy you, sir,” replied Mack
worth, as taking up his hat and gloves,
he prepared to follow Valerius. "I
would have gone myself to Mrs. Dum
barton, but I thought the news would
I come better from you."
"Thank you for that, my friend," ex
' claimed Galbraith as they quitted the
room together.
Once on his way to Olive Dumbar
ton's house, Valerius began to consider
In what words he had best convey to
I her the tidings which he brought. So
1 far as he knew, she was not yet aware
| of the accident which had befallen Bos
| tock, W’hose absence she probably ac
counted for through pressure of busi
ness. It would be his best plan, Va
lerius concluded, first to tell her of the
publisher’s casualty, of the condition
to which it led, and finally of the con
fession.
As his cab drove through the Edge
ware road Valerius could hear the
voices of newsboys crying out the sen- ;
aational announcement of "Full Con- j
tesslon of the Hixton Road Murder—
Extraordinary Revelations.” Ordering
the driver to stop, he bought a paper,
and with mingled feelings reud in de
tail the Intelligence which Mackworth
l
1 had already conveyed to him. Knowing
| there were no news criers in St. John's
j Wood, and that the evening editions
of papers were slow to arrive at that
| suburb, he believed the account would
i not yet have reached his cousin: but
j he saw likewise he had no time to
; spare if he would first convey the tid
ings of George Rostock's confession.
On reaching the house he was told
Mrs. Dumbarton was at dinner, when,
without standing on ceremony he en
tered the dining room.
‘ft's Valerius,” exclaimed Veronica,
who faced the door.
Olive Dumbarton rose, and with
outstretched hand went towards him,
saying:
"We have almost finished, but if you
will dine here the dishes can be
brought back."
"No thanks." he answered. "I didn't
come to dine, but—but to tell you
something." And he glanced at the
servant.
His cousin noticed the restraint he
sought to exercise over his evcitement,
and her thoughts reverted to the dread
tragedy from which they were seldom
absent. But she made no reply until
the maid had left the room, when Olive
Dumbarton turned to him expectantly,
pale from her fear of that unknown
event of which he had come to tell.
And now he was before her he
scarcely knew how to begin, until sud
denly he plunged into his subject say
ing:
"1 suppose you have not heard of
Bostock lately?"
“I have not seen nor heard from him
for some days.” she replied, somewhat
surprised by his question.
"You were not likely to have seen
him: he has met with an accident of
which I didn't like to tell you before,
lest it might add to your worries.”
“Nothin serious, I hope?" she said
quickly.
ne iiuuceu tne suauen anxiety which
came into her face, and that her hands
trembled, and resenting this betrayal
of he:- concern, he said roughly:
"Serious enough: a kick from a
horse's hoof has caused a compound
facture of the skull.”
"Oh, how terrible!" Veronica ex
claimed pitifully.
Olive Dumbarton said nothing, but
the sudden pallor of her face and the
pressure of her hand above the region
of her heart told what she felt.
"He was taken to the hospital, and
"Why did yon not tell me—why did
you not tell me before?" Olive Dum
barton cried out reproachfully.
Her words hut served to irritate Va
lerius, who asked.
“What could you do?"
"I would have gone to him," she an
swered bravely.
“You?”
"Why not. He was the best friend
I had in the world: and now he may
be dying," she said, her eyes full of
tears.
“He is dying.” Valerius replied in a
hard voice, in which his triumph was
appu rent.
"Dying?” she whispered.
Without any feeling of compassion
he saw the appealing look in her eyes,
the twitching of her white lips.
"Dyihg?” she murmured again, eager
that he should unsay the word.
His anger and jealously rose at sight
of her pain, and losing ail control over
himself, he cried out:
"And there is nothing in that you
need regret, for knowing he was dy
ing, lie has vindicated your innocence.”
She looked at him with questioning
eyes, her mind not understanding the
drift of his words.
"What do you mean?" she asked in
a low, tremulous voice.
"That having but a few hours to
live, he confessed to murdering your
husband," Valerius bluntly exclaimed
•with a vindictiveness of which he was
scarce conscious.
"George Bostock?”
"Yes."
A flush of color.came to her face, a
look of energy to her eyes, as she
lose and said:
"It is false—it is false."
"It is true," answered Valerius. "His
confession was taken down by George
Coris, and signed by witnesses. l'ou
may read an account of it here." And
he produced the newspaper.
"It is not that; no matter what he
has confessed he has never committed
the crime.”
"You have his own word—his oath,”
Valerius replied, his excitement in
creasing.
"But don’t you see, cannot you un
derstand?” she exclaimed, a look cf
tenderness upon her worn face, an ex
pression of pride in her luminous eyes.
"He has done this to save me from my
fate. But I will not accept his sacri
fice; living or dead his memory shall
be cleared from this crime."
“Olive are you mad?”
"No. no, I am sane enough to see
what he has done has merely been for
my sake. He is innocent.”
"The world will believe his own word
—his sworn testimony.”
"Then it shall be my duty to prove
his innocence."
Valerius already pale with excite
ment rose up and in a burst of anger
shouted:
’You love him—you love him.”
She raised her head and her calm
eyes met the furious gaze of the map
before Iter, as she answered slowly,
and with something of defiance in her
voice:
"I love him.”
Valerius laughed mockingly, and then
almost shouted:
!-^ 1"
_i
(jure.
Miss Screecher—Would you like to
hear me sing "In Old Madrid?”
Mr. Bright (absently)—Yes; if you
think you could secure long distance
telephone connections.
"It was his love for you that mad#
him kill your husband."
She winced at the words as she
might from a blow.
"Cruel, cruel," rhe murmured.
But her suffering made the man who
witnessed it only more exasperated,
and losing all control of a mind which
was now raging with jealous fury and
with vindictive hate, lie cried out:
"Aye, and your love for him strength
ened him to take the life that stood
between you.”
She could bear no more. With a
cry on her lips she fell senseless into
a chair from which she had just risen.
In a second more Veronica was beside
her. calling on her piteously, moisten
ing the rigid face and chatlng the
nervless hands.
As one dazed and bewildered Va
lerius looked on. his anger checked by
the effect of his words, compassion
overcoming his vindictiveness, until
suddenly he flung himself on his knees
beside the unconscious) woman, and
taking the hand nearest to him he
kissed it again and again, calling out: <
“Olive. Olive, forgive me; I didn't J
know what I was saying. I was mad; M
forgive me.’” “
Before he could add more. Veronica
with a dignity and self-command
scarcely to be expected in one so
young, touched him on the shoulder
and pointed to the door.
“Go,” she said.
"Veronica," he began penitently.
She walked across the room anh
touched the bell, then without another
word, he rose and left the presence of
her he had so cruelly wronged.
“I was mad,” he said, more in des
pair than in bitterness. “I was mad to
ever have thought that she loved me.”
CHAPTER XXVII.
On reaching his home after his inter
view with Valerius Galbraith, Mack
worth was told by his housekeeper that
a gentleman who particularly wished
to see him, and had volunteered to
await his return, was In the sitting
room. Wondering who this visitor
might be, the inspector hastened to
that apartment, entering which he im
mediately recognized Richard Head
wick as one of those present at the
scene of George Bostock's confession.
An expression of interest became
perceptible in the inspector's broad
face, and bowing, he said:
“I think we have met, sir, but a few
hours ago.”
“We have." Headwick answered, ad
vancing a few steps. "I am Mr. Bos
tock's friend, and it was to me he ex
pressed his wish that George Coris
might be sent for to take down his
dying depositions. As you saw, I was
present when the confession was made,
and it is regarding that I have come
here to consult you.”
“Has any new light been thrown on
the subject?” Mackworth asked, his
interest increasing.
“An idea for which l have scarceiy
sufficient basis has occurred to me.
tilling me with fear and uneasiness,”
answered Headwick.
“Pray sit down, sir, and iet me hear
what you have to say,” said the in
spector, as he drew his own chair near
the fire, which he stirred until a ruddy
blaze lighted the snug little room.
“You must first know," Headwick be
gan in a slow and serious voice, “that
Mr. Bostock and I have been brought
into daily interctJUrse for years. I am
his business manager, and likewise his
friend, and in this double capacity I
have seen more of him than perhaps
any other man."
"Indeed?” said Mackworth drily.
“And my own experience has shown
him to be a man of deep feelings and
of a sensitive nature, over which he
has exercised strong control. I have
gradually come to understand, to re
spect, and to like him; and my high
opinion concerning his honor being
slowly formed, is therefore, I trust,
more to be relied on."
“Human nature, sir, is a riddle—a
strange, puzzling riddle,” answered the
inspector with an air of self-complac- I
ence. "I have known criminals before J
now who for years were regarded as ■
models of all the domestic virtues, as
shining lights of the chapels they at
tended.”
"That is not quite my point,” Head
wick remarked.
"No? Then what is it?”
“Before I come to that,” the young
man said with a touch of hesitation
in his voice, "I must tell you that Mr.
Bostock greatly esteemed Mrs. Dum
barton; he appreciated her talents, he
admired her character, he sympathized
with her wrongs, in fact, they became
close friends."
“I was perfectly aware of that,” an
swered Mackworth, sagely nodding his
head.
"Well, by bearing in mind these two
facts; the sense of honor wilh which
he impressed one brought into close
and continual contact with him, and
his friendship for a woman he be
lieved unjustly accused concerning a
crime of which she was unable to prove
herself innocent, you will be better pre
pared for what I have to say.”
“And again I must ask you, sir, what
that is?” the inspector said testily.
"That I believe Mr. Bostock, inno
cent of the crime of which he accused
himself; that his confession was made
upon his deathbed in the hope and be
lief that it would clear her of the guilt
laid to her charge."
With a hand laid upon each knee,
and his eyes tixed on the man before
him, Mackworth listened with aston
ishment to this statement. Then after
a considerable pause he said:
“May I inquire upon what grounds
you formed this opinion?”
"I began by stating,” replied Head
wick, “that I hud hardly sufficient
basis for this idea, which, however,
seems to me extremely probable. I will
tell you how it arose," and then he
proceeded to recount the scene between
himself and Bostock which followed
close upon the confession of the latter.
Mackworth heard him with an air of
im patience.
"Tn mv mini! eir” l«n ooM
no ground whatever for this strange
surmise. It was a very natural thing
that a man should feel relief at free
ing by his confession an innocent wom
an from such a charge, and that he
should say over and over again I have
saved her—I have saved her,’ which
was merely the truth."
"But consider what I have said of
his character and of his friendship for
the accused,” pleaded Headwick earn
estly.
"As for his character," answered
Mack worth, speaking with deliberation. VC 1
“well, no man can say for himself.
much less for another, when he mayJ?
yield to strong temptation; and as to "
his friendship for Mrs. Dumbarton,
that, in my opinion, affords the strong
est argument that he committed the
murder.”
"That." said Headwick warmly, "I
will not believe."
(Continued Next Week.)
It is stated in London that the
steamer Veronique, of 3,264 tons, pur
chased by Lord Fitzwilliam, has sailed
from Southampton on an exploring ex
pedition in the Pacific via the Straits
of Magellan. Lord Fitzwilliam and
party embarked in the steamer, which i
is thaler the command of Captain E.
Morrison, with a crew of fifty-eight
hands, it is said that the ship’s des
tination is the Solomon islands, where
coal mines are reported to have been
•fiscovered.
