The Mmterg of the Feather rem gallon HF.SITATE a little before setting down lure the record of the last nf those adven tures In which Enoch Voyce shared. That hesitation arises from the fad that the ad venture was so strange and so nut of the common, and Involves the tilling of no ex traordinary a story; nmn over. It concern people who live at this moment, :ind whose Identity, for obvious reasons, I clothe In other names More than a yiar had elaped since our visit to the quiet old city of Koemlnster, Hnd I had achieved some thing of my amhltlon hy setting up a modest establish ment In the neighborhood-of Regent stret; that small auburb thnt had m-en niy advent Into the photographic world knew me no more. And Knorh Voyce that man of mystery, and my good friend had accompanied me and occupied a tiny room In niy house, under the very roof. It wai on one hot August morning, when people were for the most part out of town, and business was conse quently slack, that, looking out of the, window of my tudlo Into the street, 1 saw a cab stop and Inspector Clair get out. Remembrance of old happenings In his company swept Into my mind at once, and It was with some eagerness that I welcomed him. The man seemed to be In a great hurry, and had kept his cab waiting. Enoch Voyce Joined us even as we began to speak of t;ie object of the Inspector's visit. " You're a bit above my line Just now, Mr. Rntten bury." began the Inspector, " but I should like you to do the business for me. If you will, for old times' sake." "Is It In the country?" I asked hesitatingly, aa I thought of possible clients. " No; In London." replied Clair. " Rather a sordid business, but mysterious, and rather out of the ordinary. A man hat been killed In a house In Lambeth. No one even knows his name or where he came from. He's one of that great shifting population of a big city, here to day and gone tomorrow. Only In this case he's been ar rested on his Journey, as It were, by the hand of death." This seemed rather poetical for the Inspector, but I was Interested. I begged that he would proceed, while I got my apparatus ready. " The man, though poorly dressed, was evidently of a superior class, as compared with those with whom he had. been associating, fclowevcr, In spite of that, he had got down as low as Wicks' Rents, Lnmlirth; had taken a room In one of the wretched houst s there, and had lived there for two or three days. l.ast night he was found there, done to death, and with the weapon a heavy poker from the fireplace lying beside him." "Any clew?" asked Enoch. "Two," replied the Inspector slowVy, "a scrap of paper In one of his pockets; In one of his clinched hands a feather." "A feather!" we both exclaimed at once. Tim Inspector appeared gratified by our surprise. He nodded and pursed up his lips. " A feather," he repeated, " a small thin curled feather, some three Inches In length a white feather. I should say from a boa belonging to a woman; though never could such a feather have come from nothing worn by a woman In Wicks' Rents. However," contin ued the Inspector, rising to his feet, " we'd better go to the place; we cantalk on the way. As you lire bringing your camera, and as our friend, Mr. Voyce. Is, I hope, accompanying us, I'll dismiss my hansom and call a cab." If there are In Loudon any worse places than Wicks' Rents, Lambeth, I should like to see them. I remember that we went through a low archway and found our selves In a squalid court, with houses on either side and the high wall of a factory at the end. I remember that there were frowsy women and scowling men at the door ways, and a little knot of people gathered about one door way In particular. The Inspector thrust himself through that knot, being made way for eagerly and even slavish ly, and we came Into the place where the man lay dead. A couple of constables guarded the door, which was closed Immediately we had got Inside. He was not a peasant sight, that dead man. He had only been discovered an hour or so before; the doctor' d already reported that he had been dead since the oils night. The blow that had killed him had been ed with much strength and subtlety, and had Ilt- nrushod in the side c his head; he must have died Instant. He lay, a huddled heap, against the . table near which he had doubtless been standing. He ws a man of about 40 years of age, with hair going a little gray at the temples. His clothes were old and shabby; his face, even though smoothed by death, showed the stains of dissipation, and suggested, too, that the man had fallen from something better. While we looked at him we spoke In hushed tones, as though the dreadful thing at our feet could hear us. 1 " Unless we can get finger prints, or can find some motive for the crime there's not much chance of discov ering who struck the blow," whispered the Inspector. " He was obviously too poor to rob; and, so far as I can find out from my men, he was not known In the neigh borhood. Of course, It may have been a quarrel; but then the man had kept himself much to himself during the three days he had been here." I took photographs at the Inspector's request of the' rusty poker and of the woodwork of a broken chair that had been overturned. More than that, I photographed that scrap of paper that had been found In the man's pocket and which bore only two or three words, without signature. The words were scrawled in what was evi dently a disguised hand; much as though some one had held a pen at full length of an unsupported arm and had dashed down the words anyhow. Thy words were these: " Since you threaten me, I will meet you at the time you suggest. Hum this." I saw also, spread out on the broad palm of Inspector Clair, the feather a slight thing that a breath would blow away. It had been found caught between the fingers of the dead mansomething at which he had snatched CbrSirrankel n itnderhtan'D this storr from the begin- Q UNDERSTAND this story from the begin ning, your thoughts must Journey to the clouds or, rather, some hundreds of feet above them. And these- clouds must be sail ing along the Baltic sea, a little off tae coust of 8weden. In the clear atmosphere above them a balloon was idly drifting, with a brilliant sun streaming upon the great silk gas bag. It carried one passenger. He was an aero naut by profession, by name Frankel. Such is the first scene. The second was taking place at the same time, only a thousand feet below. In the park of e rich landowner, on the little Island of Oland. That day the rich landowner of Oland was celebrating his silver wedding. Around his house the lovely grounds were thronged with guests. People of all sorts filled the will kept lawns people from stately homes In Sweden and la borers from the village, worklnginen employed by their host. And among these, radiant and happy, moved the daughter of the house, laughing aud chatting with all allkt regardless of purse or title. A mile to the east a black speck sank slowly through a gray white bank of cloud. For awhile It passed unno ticed, until some one, pointing, asked: " What is that?" All eyes now turned to the sky. Some said the speck must be bird, perhaps a golden eagle. But none felt sure, until at last ths thing slowly resolved Itself Into a balloon. Now they could see the aeronaut moving In the basket. He seemed to be In difficulties, for a stream of sand shot out suddenly from one of the bags suspended outside the wicker car. Then he lowered a long rope, shouting Tor them to catch the rope and to drag the balloon Into the open. A dozen men sprang to obey, and between them the balloon was brought safely to the ground. A young man sprang nimbly from the car. Hat In hand, he bowed re spectfully to the landowner and his wife. "My name la Frankel," he began, "and I must ask your pardon for appearing in this unceremonious fashion. But my balloon was damaged, and I had to descend whether I liked or not." The landowner replied that be was welcome, and pressed him to Join In the keepfng. up of his silver wtd dmg. The aeronaut was charmed. IVrhaps the pretty girl that his host Introduced as " my daughter " had not a little to do with his pleasure. At any rate, be staid. And. at eny rate, he talked most of the afternoon with the girl. Moreover, before the etei.lng was ended be had accepted his host's Invitation . ,i Mnd a few days wKh them. Today the young aeronaut is married to the daughter of the rich landowner of Oland. X mmbm miriiW wife i l ?r IJJ PfSi ' WW iff probably as he filed. And, as the Inspector suggested. It coiil. 1 scarcely have come from anything belonging to a woman of that neighborhood. While I was ut work there came a tap at the door, and a constable thrust In his head. The Inspector crossed the room to him and they whispered together for a mo ment. I thought that I heard another voice, break in also. Then the burly form of the Inspector filled, the doorway, and he stood with his back to us. talking to some one outside. And that some one had the clear, quiet voice of a lady, and I heard the voice distinctly. " One dot s not like to think of any one dying so sud denly," said the visitor. " I am known here the people all know me and if I can do anything " "Nothing, I'm afraid, my lady," replied Inspector) Clair. " And It's not a sight that a lady like yourself would care to look on not a pretty sight." " I am not nfrald," said the clear voice again. And almost before I knew whut had happened the Inspector had drawn iback and the woman was in the poor room. She was, I th(nk, the most beautiful creature I had ever seen; and site was beautiful ki a fashion that had always appealed to me. She had the fuce almost of a pictured saint; great dark eyes, imd the tenderest mouth imaginable, and dark hair flowing buck from a broad forehead. Almost before we knew what was happening she was on her knees beside that wreck of humanity. I saw the inspector step forward to itrevent her, but she waved him back. "I'm not afraid," she said again. "This man was something better than his fellows. Somewhere in the past for which he must be Judged some woman must have loved him; for that cause alone a woman should be be side him now." She looked up and glanced from one to the other of us. " You have no clew?" she asked. " None, my lady," he said, shaking his head. " We are Investigating matters now taking photographs of fin ger prints." " Will that give a clew?" she asked quickly. " We hope so," said Clair brusquely. " Now, my lady, I must really ask you to leave us; this Is no place for you," he added. She rose to her feet; she stood for a moment or two looking down at the dead man. Then, with her head bowed, she went out of the room, and the door closed behind her. I ventured to ask In a whisper who she was. " Lady Blesswick," -replied Clair. " Done a heap of good down here among these people, one way and ungth cr. They fairly worship her. I've found her In places where I would scarcely have ventured alone myself," he went on, In a hushed voice, " but, aa she Rays, she's not afraid. She's given her life to it for several years now." My part of the work ended, of course, with the ful fillment of my duties as photographer. I left Inspector Clair to make arrangements for the removal of the body. And here I may mention that the case fell naturally by the verdict of the Jury of " murder against some per son or persons unknown," Into the category of mysteries left In the hands of the police. In due course I handed over the piiotographs to Inspector Clair, aH the same time hinting to him that with my Improved position I did not care to mix myself In such matters In the future. Curiously enough, Enoch Voyce had refused to ex How to Get Small Waist Without Lacing V OUR waist must not be more than twenty- Yl three inches. Empire styles are In and the I tortures of the empire corset are at hand I unless you want to be In style and at the same time be comfortable. To lace or not to luce Is the -question of the hour. One must have the twenty-three inch waist, yet one must not lace. The doctor says you must not laee--the modiste says the waist must be twenty-three Inches, and round and the solution of the whole problem lb s in diet and In" exercise. The empire corset has come back and, unless the women of today are willing to suffer agonies to be squeezed and laced until their digestive apparatus Is shoved out of place, their waist compressed, and their heart, and lungs affected they will have to go into train ing or out of style and the one seems to many as bad as the other. The new corsets are round walsted, extremely high In the belt line, extremely small, and extremely round. To get into one would force a healthy girl to lie down and let her maid place one foot on her buck and pull the strings until she can bear It no longer until the waist is pinched aud the abdomen compressed to the point of agony und beyond the possibility of eating. French Inshl Upon Torture. It Is terribly unhealthy to lace the corsets tightly but the French insist upon It and the way they wear them is to squeeze the lower part Just as tight as possible, then unlace the three top boles and lace them loosely with another cwrd. leaving the bust free making It possible to breathe, but not to move. To keep the waist round and high they lace the cortets tightly. Then around the waist they si girdle of linen and bones, which is tightly hooked a in. with this instrument of race suicide and unheal k place It will stay In spite of the efforts of naturo btain air and exercise for the vital organs. But it is possible to have the twenty combined with grace and comfort and V aid of the maid or the instrument of make the waist line extremely small wi The ancient Greek and Spartan warrior Mp and shoulders, and beautifully iu) by the good old method of diet and ex exactly what the sensible society woinel inch waist -without the You can icing at all. en of gre;,: lists did it and that is Uulng today. press any opinion In r gard to t'.ie murder. Once or twice I had endeavored to sound him by suggesting, for In stance, that there might have been a quarrel between the dead man and another; and Enoch Voyce had nodded arid shrugged his shoulders. Or, again, I had suggested that this might be a case" of a mere matter of vengeance long delayed something that came out of the better past of the man, and had dogged his footsteps since; and again Enoch Voyce had nodded and shrugged his shoulders. Rut nt last one day, more than a week after our visit to Wicks' Rents, he made a suggestion which nt that time did not appear to have any connection with the murder. Indeed, It' was purely a business suggestion. " Why don't you ask Lndy Ulesswlck to give you a sitting?" he demanded in his. abrupt fashion one day. " She is connected with all sorts of charitable affairs, meets royalty occasionally, and Is generally well known. It may lead to business for you. Why not write and ask her to give you a complimentary sitting?" t I did not suppose for a moment that she would ac cede to any request of mine. However, at Enoch's sug gestion, I mentioned that I had had the pleasure of meet ing her under grewsotne circumstances at the time of the discovery of the murder of an unknown man In Wicks' Rents, Lambeth. And to my surprise she replied at once, in a formal but cordiHl note: "Lady Blesswick presents her compliments to Mr. Rattenbury, and begs to thank him for his offer. She will willingly place herself in his hands for a photo graph, although Bhe scarcely likes to Impose on Mr. Hat tenbury's kindness In the matter. Boon after ll1 on Wednesday next would suit her." I showed .the note to Enoch Voyce, who examined It critically and remarked that the writing showed force of character. To my surprise, too, he lingered over taat ordinary note for some time, screwing up his lips and his eyes ovtr it, and putting his head more on one side than ever. However, he said nothing, and the day came which was to bring with it Lady Blesswick. She came simply and quietly dressed. She expressed her thanks to me for having suggested that I should take her photograph, and at the same time a little polite won der that the photograph should be worth the trouble. Also, sh apologized for having brought with her her maid; they were going on together somew.here else after wards. Resides, this maid was her confidential attendant, and she seldom went anywhere without her. The maid was, I think, the grimmest looking woman I ever .have seen. Some 50 years of age, with hair that whs beginning to turn gray and with a mouth that was simply one stern, straight line; with eyes of the fiercest and the brightest, and with ever a Jealous gaze upon her mistress. Hut what attracted me most at that mo ment, especially having In mind the fact of the murder In Wicks' Rents, suggested to me again by the presence of Lady Blesswick, was the fact that this elderly maid wore a white feather boa. I remember that I first noticed It as I stood, after pot-lng Lady Blesswick, and waiting the few momenta necessary for the exposure. Lady Blesswick was an Ideal sitter, her calm, (beauti ful face never moved. My eyes strayed from ttiat for a moment to the maid, who was holding her mistress' cloak. And then It was that I saw the boa, and remem bered In, a hash the feather that had been clutched tightly In the dead man's hand. essse93S99sscs9e9esoescesssssss99sessece99oes89essoe FASHION'S DECREE OF TWENTY-THREE INCH WAIST CAN BE OBEYED BY EXERCISING The modistes admit that the golf girls and the basketball girls or many of them slip into the twenty-three inch girdles with astonishing ease, anck wear the empire corsets with but a tug or two even though they wear medals for prowess in strength and agility. They understand exercise and they understand the art of eating the right thing in the right amounts.' Exercises for Lessening Figure. To make the waist little there are three important exercises. The first Is a bending one. Seat yourself and bend forward until you touch your toes. Repeat seventy five times. This Is the rowing exercise. For the second exercise remain seated, tlfrow up your hands and bend backward. Rcteat fifty times. For the third exercise remain seated and bend from side to side. Saw this side and that side until your aipa feel limber. This is a great waist reduction exercise. There are exei-ls-s for reducing the weight which are to be taken us one stands erect. Bend from side to side, lifting the arms at the same time. Hold a fan In your, hands to assist in the bending operation. But on your corset before you try this exercise. The second curst t exercise 4s taken with the fan In both hands. Lift It high above your head. Bend back ward so as to keep the arms raised, at the same time bend our body back as f ir as you can with your corset on. Tins is fine for reducing the wulst line. There is one wuIhi exercise which is excellent. It consists of waist compression. I.ay your bands on euch fcide of your belt line and press hard. Compress your waist with your linger tips and keep on pressing. You will sexm have a wui.-i which you can almost span. Try the hip exercises. Hop up and down. Jump aud skip, keeping the feet on the move as If you were dancing. In a Utile while your waist will grow less as your shoulders and hips grow broad. The chest will till out. but 'the b. It line will be small like that of a runner. Runners always have a tiny little belt line. A professional athlete tan wear a belt of which a society girl would be proud. Pinching Will Reduce Fat. Women a hose waist nit.tsurc thirty Inches would do Meli to study the new methods. Io not try to compress your belt line within the limits of a twenty-three inch Of course, the mere suggestion was absurd. I dis missed It with a shudder at once. I told myself that this gentle lady had. on in errand of mercy, happened to come Into the room where the man had been done to death. And now her maid was wearing a boa of which doubtless there were a thousand replicas In London at that moment. With a feeling of Indignation against myswlf, 1 squeezed the bulb and closed the shutter. The next moment I was bowing to Lady Blesswick, who was smiling and thanking me. And nt the same moment I jaw that Enoch Voyce was gallantly relieving the maid of the cloak and was assisting Lady Blesswick with It. Enoch' Voyce went downstairs with them. Return ing In a couple of minutes, he closed the door of the studio and stood there with his back to It. I knew taat something was wrong, or that he suspected something, by his manner. " Rattenbury," he said at last, " can you stand a shock?" " ( think so," I replied. He advanced from the door and came close up to me and spoke In a low tone. "One of the women who went out of this room mis tress or 'maid killed that unknown man In Wicks' Rents," he said. I thought again of that feather boa. and I must con fess I laughed. The idea was so palpably absurd Enoch Voyce suddenly opined his hand and displayed on the palm a small, white feather. " I got it Just now when I was taking the cloak from the maid," he said. " But, my dear Voyce," I remonstrated, " how many feather boas do you think are being worn In Loudon at this moment? Why, the Idea would never have suggested Itself to Jou if you had not seen Lady Blesswick In that room with the dead man." Enoch Voyce seated himself on the table near which I stood and spread out the feather on his palm and looked at it. Still looking at It he went on to explain what was in his mind. " Now, my dear Rattenbury, I do not think you can accuse me of Jumping at conclusions," he said. " You doubtless will remember that In the dead man's posses sion was found a note, which the writer had requested the man to burn, making the appointment with him which doubtless was to mean his death. You have a photograph of that letter and I have carefully examined It. You will remember that It begins with the word Since.' The capital letter Is peculiarly shaped a long, firm outline, quite different from the rest of the note, suggesting to my mind that the Idea of disguising the writing came Into the mind of the writer after the note was begun. Now, in that other note making the appoint ment for the photograph to be taken, that same capital letter again appears at the beginning of the sentence 'Soon after 11.' And, so far as I can Judge, those letters are Identical." "Then what do you suggest?" I asked. In an awe struck voice. ' I scarcely know what to suggest," said Enoc'.i. " It may be the maid; that is the more likely solution of the mystery. I would suggest that, back in the past, this man had had some power over the mistress. I seem to see the grim, determined maid striking him down when he threatens the Woman she loves. The fact that the first note was written in a disguised hand and that the second waist line, rather try to make your waist so small that you can wear a little belt without injury. The woman who has rolls of fat around her belt line would do well to pinch off these rolls. This is called Jap anese massage, linch the rolls of fat until they disappear. They will go away If you pinch them well night and morn ing. Pinch until you feel it. The fat will forget to form new rolls and the old wrinkles will melt away. You can hire some one to do it for you if you prefer. But It is reully best to do It yourself. The empire waist is the short, high waist. But the new round corsi t has a little round waist Just about at the belt line. If you want to wear a little high empire waist, or a long empire coat with its little, short waist, right up In under the arms, you will need to have a little, round belt. The thin woman looks adorably graceful In this high short waist, witli the bust tied with a sash. But the stout woman is a sight. And tills means that the stout woman must diet, bend, and exercise. t Diet That Will Make Waist Small. What are you going to eat while you are changing your figure from a long, flat, straight front to that of u little1, round waist line? You are going to diet, but when and bow? If you really are In earnest about dieting, go out to the first fruit stand and buy some fruit. No matter what kind. Just so it In- agreeable to your taste and accept able to your digestion. Don't eat pineupplc if it distresses you; don't try bananas if they go itgainxt you. Get some thing that agrees with you well. A woman alio is dieting f- r a little waist gets up in the morning and eats pears. She has a breakfast consist ing of one roll and half a cup of coffee. From that time on until tt o'clock at night she eats fruit. Nothing else. Not as much as a swallow of water nor a sip of tea. not as much us a nibble at a cracker, nothing at all except fruit, of which she has a tin.- stock on band. For dinner she eats soup, all the vegetables she can hold, and a bit of meat. It keeps up her strength and feeds her bruin. She lias all the fruit she wants to tat in the evening. The result is apparent. From being a heavy weight she has tome down to lie diuin ami though by no means a bantamweight she is only fairly stout. Blie will keep on until she Is slender, actually slender. note wj In the second person suggests to my mind that both may have been written by i t,,, confidential maid The wearing of that feather boa, from which she could not possibly know that a tiny feather hair been snatched on two occasion, confirms me in tint susmfloin On the other hand, the p, in may hive had to do With .,p maid only and the mistress be utterly Ignorant of the whole hfT.ilr. In any cae I should like you to take a photograph of that first word In the sentence In the second note. I should :ke. If possible, to compare the two accurately. Can It be done?'' I Informed lilm thnt I could take a photograph of the second letter on gelatin, so that he could actually place the one c.ip.tal Jettir o r the other and see to what x tent they tlittd. So Intcristed was I in the matter that I st to Work at once, and was able later In the day to complete the xperlnietit. Anil when standing beside Enoch Voyce I placed the gelatin letter over the photograph of the note found In the possession of the dead man, our silence showed that his surmise had been correct, and that the letter "8" In each case was absolutely alike. I felt a little faint, I must admit, as I made the dis covery. " We will take the photographs when they are com pleted to Lady Blesswick ourselves," said Enoch, quietly. " Pi any cnse.she must know what we have discovered." I remember that Intirvlew well. We were shown Into a room where Lady Blesswick sat writing. She rose to receive us. and was altogether gracious. I remember that I saw with a pang thinking It possible thnt she might be connected with that awful tragedy In some way that she had a pretty child ; fair haired boy clinging to her skirts. She was pleased to admire the photographs much, kneeling beside the boy, and making a beautiful picture. With her head close against the child, she showed the photographs to him. I would have been glad then to be well out of the matter; birt I knew that we must go on. Enoch Voyce gently suggested that we had something of Importance to communicate to her and that the c'.illd should be setkt away. A sudden still look came into her face. She bowed and saw tae child out of the room. Then, when the door was chsed, she faced us quietly. She seemed to know In that moment what she had to face and she took It quite bravely; there was no appeal In her eyes. Briefly enough Enoch Voyce told acr what we had .discovered. Of the feather found In the hand of the dead man, so exactly like a fcuNicr from a boa worn by her bnald. " I gnve her that. It belonged to me," broke In Lady Blesswick, in a low voice. Of the comparing of the two Initial letters In the two notes; of the extraordinary fashion in which thtiy fitted; of Enoch Voyce's own suspicions which I heard then for the first time that that dramntlc entry of Lady Blesswick Into the wretched room in Wicks' Rents, Lambeth, was something more tlian accidental. "I kilhd him," she said, quietly, after a pause " Gentlemen " she raised those wonderful eyes and looked at us as a prisoner might look at her Judges " years ago, when I was little more than a child, he come Into my life and did me the greatest wrong a man may do a woman. Slowly, by God's grace, I got away from him; slowly, along tho thorniest path that ever a woman trod, I fought my way to the things the sweeter, brighter things for which God had meant me. I met and married a good man. I have little children who think there Is no woman In the world so good and so holy as their mother. That the bitterness has remained I need not tell you. I have plunged down Into tho depths, from the height to which I have won, to drag back and save, other lost souls; that reparation, at least, I havo made. And It was on such an errand that 1 came face to face again with the man I had so much reason b dread." She paused and put her hand to her throat, as though she were choking. Speaking always in that suppressed voice, she yet Bpoke with a note of passion that thrilled me. " Once again he stood before me lit that room and threatened what he would do. The money' with which I could have supplied him to buy Ills silence was nothing; he did not, want that. He would go to my husband and tell him the whole story. He' would shame me In the eyes of my children. He would make my name a byword among decent men and women. In his foul hatred of me and of what I hud become, he struck at me, and I seized the first weapon that was at hand to protect myself." Again she was silent, again she mastered herself wily a great effort for her final words. " When I struck him down," she said. In a whinner, " I seemed to put into the blow all that I suffered, all that I feared, all my loathing of the man. He never stirred after that, and I was frightened and came away. That is all." Enoch Voyce moved across the room and dropped something Into the fire. I knew that It was the packet containing the photograph of the first note and the gela tin film of the second, and that second note Itself. " Lady Blesswick," he said, simply, waving a hand towards the fireplace, " there goes the record of the crime. And Just In that way It goes from Our minds." When we looked back, as we were crossing the threshold of the room I saw Lndy Blesswick kneeling, with Iter face hidden In her hands. I closed the door silently and came away. " For the future, my dear Rattenbury," said Enoch Voyce that night, as we sat together in my studio, " let us confine ourselves to the portrayal by photography of the more or leas Interesting people who come here from motives of vanity. In your position you can well 'afford to do so, and It is less harrowing to the nerves and the feelings." Remembering thnt figure I had seen upon Its knees that day, and remembering certain other adventures that have been duly chronicled, I felt that I could cordially agree with him. .eeesss esesss eesees sscsss The Level Crossing A Motor Car Experience sxBOUT the middle of lust April a powerful automobile might have been seen whizzing along one of the straight, hedgeless roads leading to Havre. In front, driving the car, sat a man clad in a heavy fur coat, his faoe half hidden by a motor mask. Beside him sat a woman, and two others also sat behind, their thick white veils streaming In the wind. The driver wus Sir Duncan Hay of I'eebles. Two of the ladies were his sisters, und the third was a friend. I'ast Tancarvllle, seventeen miles from Havre, the road led through an avenue of trees. Overhead the thick branches met, forming a long, gloomy, green and brown tunnel, hiding from view everything but the white road. Down this the car rushed, raising a cloud of dust, while the thick trunks of the trees danced by In wild confusion. It was exhilarating to travel at such speed. Not a soli tary pedestrian was In sight so there was little danger. And no speed regulations troubled the conscience of the driver. Halfway down .the avenue a gleam of steel flashed In Sir Duncan's eyes. Evidently they were approaching u level crossing. In France such places are not prqtected by gates, nor is a man employed to warn the wayfarer of approaching trains. Oblivious of danger, Sir Duncan approached the crossing at full speed. Suddenly a shrill whistle Bounded above the rattle of the car's machinery. A cry of terror burst from one of the women as the heavy rumble of an approaching train fell on her ears. Sir Duncan heard It also. Despairingly he Jammed on the brakes. Another shrill whistle arose, and through the trees a train burst Into view. The cur swerved In answer to the brakes, but Homing could stay Its mad rush to destruction. With a fearful t rash It hurled itself against the engine. The rain came to a standstill, and from t lie engine descended a white faced driver. As he rushed toward the wrecked car his hands wire raised in horror. It seemed well nigh Impossible that any one Could have escaped. His eye caught the prostrate form of a woman lying a few yards from (he Wrei k. He wondered if she were dead. As lie bent over her be saw her open her eyes. Then she sit up, and with a cry of Joy be helped her to rise. But there were others. They at h-asl must nave been killed or badly Injured. They also, however, nad risen and were standing, with torn clothes, contemplating the car, now a crumpled mass of iron and smoldering wood. The same n.f bt the four who bad escaped death almost by a miracle 1ft Havre for Bout humpton, no doubt glad to arrive in t country . where the level crossings are se curely guard d. A M3 ii-.. s II x as bind 113.:.. Veai the fcuys: Jm do- r J "sW1