THE NOVELIST.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3942, 8 March 1884, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE NOVELIST.

THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR. A STOET OF HIGHLANDS AND DEEP SEAS. BY MAJOR AUEED BOCHEFOKT. CHAPTER XXXT. CAPTAIN BELL IS MTSTEBIOUS, AND THE TRIAL PROCEEDS. It was not till he came to start for the Grange that Mr Mansfield was reminded that lie had not seen Captain Bell since he left the hall where the trial was had. Could it be that he had run off with Ellen Kyle?' Mr Manefield did not aslc his daughter this. Indeed, he scarcely dared to harbor the thought himself. He was a shrewd man of the world, and of Jato ho had been impressed by two discoveries. One was, that Captain Bell, if not actually in lore with Ellen Kyle, was deeply interested in that unfortunate young lady. The other discovery was, that his daughter was sure to lead the conversation to Donald Kyle, no matter what subject was started. About these matters he kept his opinion to himself ; but, nevertheless, he did a great deal of quiet thinking. As Sophronia preferred to remain behind in conversation with Katrine and her brother —but more particularly with the brother—Mr Mansfield and May drove over to the Grange. The servants were amazed to see the Americans; and when the squire became aware of their presence ho came into the garden where they were waiting. As it was quite dark he held ix candle in one hand, and a monstrous pistol in the other. His eyes told that he had been drinking, and his voice and gestures confirmed this belief. 'Who sent for you ?' ho demanded, the instant he caught sight of Mr Mansfield. 'No one,' was the reply. ' I came on my own account.' ' You. came to trespass on my grounds.' 'On the contrai-y, I came to talk to you about the young lady to whom you claim to be married. , ' And to whom I nm married,' said the squire, waving the candle above his head. ' I have nothing to say as to that. Can we see her ?' 'See her! , shouted the squire. 'Do you come here to offer me insult ? for if you do I'll defend my am hoose to tho last.' And he began to flourish the pistol. ' No. My daughter wishes to see the lady. , ' An' where is she ?' demanded the squire. ' You should know.' 'So I should ; an' I will know,if it takes every groat I hare to my name.' 'Then you don't know whero she is now ?' ' Do you know ?' asked the squire, sobering up, while a cunning expression camointo bis muddy eyes. 'If I did I would not come here to inquire, , said Mr Mansfield, about to turn back. , ' I'll no speak to you about my wife,' said the squire, with a ludicrous affectation of dignity. 'She's no a subject to be talked aboot. So go yer way, an' the sooner ye leave Scotland the better it'll be for Uβ, an' for you, too.' ' Let us go back, father,' whispered May. 'I am satisfied that Ellen is not here.' Tho squire caught the last words, and with a coarse laugh he asked : ' How do you ken that she is no here ? Her proper place is beside her husband, an' here in his hoose. So away back wi' you before Igo to extremities.' And the squire began to flourish the pistol again.' May was really afraid that the drunken wretch might discharge the pistol at them ; so she drew her indignant father back, and insisted on his re-entering the carriage. As they wore about to drive away, a woman, holding by the hand a child of fivo or six years—a little boy—appeared at the step, and in a cautious voice, asked : ' Are you the Americans from beyant the sea?' 'We are, , replied Mr Mansfield. ' An' yo've coom oot here to look for the Lady Ellen Kyle ?' ' That was our object.' 'But ye did na find her? , ' No.' ' Then, mark me ; yell never find her in this hooge.' ' Do you know where Miss Kyle is ?' asked May. ' I dinna ken where she is. I only ken where she is not— an , what she is not.' This was said in such a way that May said i ' What do you mean by ' what she is not?" ' I mean that Ellen Kyle is no tho wife o , Graham o' the Grange,' said tho woman, in a tono of fierceness. ' How do you know ?' 'Because I should know. I'll say no more, but remember my words, an , yell see me again." Before May could ask the woman hor name, or get a clue to her meaning, she and the child vanished into the darkness. When Mr Mansfield and May got back to theDornach Arms, they found Captain Bell smoking before the door with an air of placid contentment. ' Where have you been ?' he asked, as he helped May to alight. ' Come into the parlor, where we cannot be overheard,' she replied, ' and I will tell you.' In tho little parlor, and the captain repeated his question ; and May and her father told where they had been and what they had done, the latter adding : ' I still believe the young lady is over at tho Grange, as that rascal calls his houso.' ' She is not,' said the captain. ' How do you know ?' 'Because, Mr Mansfield, I know whero the lady is,' ( You are in earnest ?' 'In dead earnest.' ' Then do not keep us in tortures,' said May, ' but tell all about it, without further questioning, and I'll forgive you.' 'I don't want to say too much, for fear my connection with her disappearance may become known and givo me further trouble—' ' But IB she safe ?' persisted May. 'As safe as she can be in Scotland. A i gentleman of youy acquaintance, accompanied by a certain remarkable old woman, who shall be nameless, took Miss Kyle this evening to a place where I'll defy all tho officers in Scotland to find her if she hae warning of their coming, and I may cay that every precaution has been taken against surprise,' ' Then ehe is in charge of Mother Tavish at tho cliffs, , said May. ? You are the best gueeser I ever met up ■with, Miss May; but, as I said before, I shall not pxplain till to-morrow or next day, when certain revelations of a startling pature aro expected. But I did hear that Mjss Kyle sent you her xindying love.' May pretended to pout and to blamo the captain for hie mysterious manner; but, with a woman's quick perception, ehe saw that all was well with Ellen, at least for the present,.and she;went : to bed more contented. ■ ,■.-•• Tho examination at the town hall was to be renewed at nine o'clock the following morning, but long before that hour crowds gathered about the doors, in order to get choice positions when they were opened. ■ The squire, ehowing in his face and manner the evidenco of his last night's dissipation, was promptly on hand. With him came tho lieutenant and Cattanacb,, the lawyor from Tain. : Sir Archibald Wilson, who was the guest of Lord Dunmore, drove over with that gentleman and his charming wife, an American lady,

Lady Dunmore was delighted to meet May and her countrymen, and she explained her not having met them before by saying that she had been spending the summer in Switzerland. Conspicuous among the people gathered about the nervous little magistrate were Bob Black and his five companions, who were the witnesses on whose evidenceDonaldKyle was to be held for a higher court or declared to be a free man. The calmest person in the court-room was Donald Kyle himself. At his left hand sat Kenneth, and near by Katrine Tavish, and at his right were May Mansfield and her father, with Lord and Lady Dunmore. Rob Black and his companions had been thoroughly instructed by the squire, and so often had they gone over the evidence, that they had come to believe that what they were about to swear to was literally true. Rob Black was the first witness called. He gave his name ; said he was thirty-five years of age, and by occupation a coast-guards-man. His story was a long one, and told with the care and deliberation of one anxious to be accurate in reciting a matter that was committed to memory. , , Briefly told, it was as follows : He was in one of the boats sent up the coast to surprise the smuggler. He witnessed the arrest of Donald Kyle and the two American women, and ho remained on the sloop with the former when Lieutenant Graham went with tho latter to Kyle Castle. Archy Ross was in command of the party left in charge of tho Gull and to guard tho prisoner. The prisoner was neither ironed nor confined, but was free to roam about the ship as he pleased. He remembered seeing Donald Kyle going into the cabin of the sloop a short time before the fire broke out. Donald Kyle looked to be much excited when he came on deck again. The fire was very sudden, and, in order to save their lives, he, Rob Black, and the others, with the exception of Archy Ross and Donald Kyle, leaped into ono of the boats that was alongside, and pulled out of the reach of danger. They had gone but a few hundred feet from the sloop, which at this time was wrapped in flames, when they halted and looked back. At this moment he—Rob Black—saw as distinctly as he saw the magistrate sitting on the bench near by, Donald Kyle having Archy Ross by the throat, and bending his body down over the bulwarks. He further saw tho prisoner striking Archy Ross several times with a weapon that gleamed in the light of the burning ship like steel. Then he saw the prisoner lifting up the body in his arms and tossing it into the eea, where it sank immediately. A few seconds after this Donald Kyle leaped over himself, and tho sloop blew up. 'An, said Rob Black, in conclusion, f that's all I know about it, except that I was one o' them that went to arrest the prezner when wo larnt that he was hidin' doon amang the rocks, wi' the fishers o' Dornach Head.' This evidence was very strong—too strong, indeed, for what was largely circumstantial. ' Now, Robert Black,' said Sir Archibald Wilson, in his bland, quiet way, 'I want you to be very careful of your answers, for what I am about to ask may have slipped your memory in the excitement of the occasion.' ' I have a good memory, sir,' said Black. ' I am glad to hear it. Now, before the fire, wero there any lights on the ship ?' ' Yos, sir.' • Where were they ?' ' We had signal lights in the riggin', and— now that I come to think o' it—there was a light in the binnacle, back by the wheel.' ' Did not you and ono of your companions ask Archy Ross if he thought there was any brandy or gin in the hold of the Gull ?' ' I canna recall that.' ' Did you not say that it would bo a good notion to search for the liquor? , 1 1 have no memory o , that. , ' If you had said so, would you have remembered it ?' ' I'll not say for sure, but I might.' ' Did not you and one of your companions go into tho hold with a lighted candle to search for liquor ?' ' I'll swear it wasn't me.' ' Then it might have been another man ?' ' If any one went, it wasn't me.' ' Some one did go into the hold, then, to search for liquor ?' ' I'll no say as to that. I can on'y speak for mesel'. , ' If any man, or men, went into the hold with a candle burning, and ran out without one, tho fire might havo started in that way ?' ' But I said it started after Donald Kyle came up fra the cabin,' persisted Black. ■ The fire was seen bursting through the hatchway, I think you said ?' ' Yes ; an' it blazed straight up as high as the mast-head all at once.' ' Then the first fire came from the hatchway ?' ' Yes. I'll swear to that. , 'Were you ever on the Gull before this occasion V ' Yes. I once sailed on her.' ' And you wero often in the cabin ?' ' Every day, sir. , ' Now, do lyou not know that there was no opening between the cabin and the hold through which a man could pass ?' ' There was none in my time. , ' Very good, indeed. Now, will you be kind enough to explain why it was that the fire did not start in tho cabin instead of in the hold ?' ' I don't know,' said Black, becoming confused at discovering the trap into which he had been bo adroitly led. ' If Donald Kyle started tho fire, it must have been in the cabin ?' ' I'll no pretend to explain how that was. I'm simply tellin' all I know.' 'Did you ever tell this story to anyone before ?' ' I havo.' ' To whom ?' ' Oh, to a great many, for it was on everyone's tongue.' 'How often did you tell it to Squire Graham ?' ' I dinna ken. , ' Twice ?' ' More nor that. , 'Ten times? , ' Mobbe.' ' You went to tho Grange to talk it over ? 'Yes.' 'And your fellow-coast guardsmen went wjth you ?' '■They did. , ' And the squire treated you well, I suppose ?'• . ■ ; ■ ' He treated us like gentlemen-' 'Now, Black, look at me—look straight, man, and don't hang your head in that way, as if you stood convicted of conspiracy and perjury. Answer me at once, , : said Sir Archibald. 'Did not the squire give you money, and promise you more, if you swore as you have just done, so as to convict Donald Kyle? , '1 Wfc answer, , shouted Cattanacb. ' I am astonished that Sir Archibald Wilson should put such a question to the witness. Squire Graham is not on trial. His character is above reproach—' '•'• 'Oh, what ft whopper! , exclaimed Sophronia, bub in the excitement the magistrate either did not hear or could not heed her. ' He need not answer, , said Sir Archibald, 1 now as calm nnd bland as he was habitually. ' The man has already perjured himself , enough. Now, yonr honor, I ask that this hearing be adjourned till to-morrow mornLing.' : ■ •• : ':■■ • ' ' ■■ ■ ■ ' ' ' : ■'■ ' 3Tor what reason ?' asked the magistrate,- - who wa3 just in the humor to go on. ' ' Because an important witness for the dofence'cannot be here till then/ replied Sir I Archibald. ■ : 'Who ia the witness ?' 'I decline to state.' ' I should like to know, , said Cattanach, ' if, Siv Archibald Wilson is hereto defend

tho criminal, or to fulfil the duties of his high office by aiding to have justice done. , '■I am here to prosecute, , said Sir Archibald. ' Then you are not doing it.' 'Nor has the hour come, , retorted Sir Archibald. ' But when it does, the witnesses and prisoners that have already appeared before the court, will change places ; and I here venture the opinion that Mr Cattanach, who knows moro about law than he does about justice, will need all his skill to explain to the satisfaction of his countrymen his conduct in connection with the transfer of the Kyle estate to Squire Graham.' This was delivered with a fervor that was contagious, and the eager people about the room burst into a murmur of approval that would have rose into a cheer had not tho little magistrate made himself hoarse shouting for ' order.' ' I like that Sir Archibald Wilson,' said Sophrofiia, on the way back to the inn. ' What a pity 'tis that he's a foreigner. He ought to come over to Bosting and hang out his shingle, and then go to the Legislature. I'll speak to him about it before we leave Scotland.' As May was about to enter the inn through a crowd that had gathered there to feast their eyes on her, Mother Tuvish forced her way to her side and slipped a note into her hand. ' It's f ra Miss Ellen,' she whispered ; ' and she bid me say yo may see her soon.' May hastened to her room and read the note. I It told her what she already suspected, I viz. : that Ellen was in hiding among tho fishers of Dornach Head, and that she would go to the castle that night to see her mother, but she would first make sure that Squire Graham was not within reach. May showed the letter to her father and Captain Bell, and they planned to go to the castle to meet Ellen that night. CHAPTER XXXII. AN UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE. After handing Ellen tho note, Mother Tavish drew her plaid about her head so as to nearly cover her face, and then slipped through the crowd as quickly and lightly as if she had been forty years younger. Near the lock-up she found Katrine awaiting her. ' Ah, poor lass!' said Mother Tavish, taking her daughter's hand and turning in the direction of Dornach Head, ' the hotter it is wi' him the worse it'll be for you.' ' I canna understan' ye, mother,' said Katrine, as she quickened hor pace in order to keep up with the old woman's long, masculine strides. ' Ye've stood by Kenneth in the day o' his great misfortune, lass, an' though I've no patience wi , yer humor, I admire that in you. Ye're a true Tavish, for you stan' by them that has yer heart, even when adversity be around them. But I'm thinkin' noo o' the pain that has to come to you.' ' What pain can come, mither, mair than I've had ?' asked Katrine. ' Suppose Kenneth Kyle is free again ?' 'As please God he soon will be!' 'I say amen to that! , But when he's free, Katrine, do you know what I think he'll do? , 'How should the liko o' me know, mither ?' 'Do you think he'll be for stayin' here roond the bleak rocks o , Dornach ?' ' If be does na stay, mither, , said Katrine, suppressing a sigh, , the bleak rocks o' Dornach will be bleaker still.' ' I think he'll go beyant the sea wi' the Americans; he'il no be captain again o , the fishers o' Dornnch Head ; an' then, Katrine, yell be awfu' lonely, for him that's doon deep in yer heart will be gone forever fra yer eyes, an' it's through the eves that love feeds.' ' If I ken that he's happier, mither, in the fair land beyant the seas, I'll no complain. Why should I want him to stay ? I love him —mair than my tongue can utter —so I'll not try to put it into words; but I've not let tho glove blind me. I've no forget that Jhe's a high-born gentleman, an' that I'm but the poor, ignorant daughter o' a poor fisherman.' ' Aye, lass, but yer a Tavish ; 'an' there was a time when they were no so poor, but never a time when their bettors could bo found even among them that held their heads high, , said the old woman, with feeling. She expected that Katrine would display less sense and humility, in which event she would have used all her influence to discourage. But now her motherly sympathies were aroused, and she could have taken the brave girl tc her heart and kissed her and soothed her; for she knew tho present sorrow of poor Katrine, and the fact that oven Hope held out no promise that the cloud would ever be lifted. ' I can boar the burdon, mither, that I've been lang in preparin' for. Let Maister Kenneth go beyanfc tho sea, an' my love and my blessin' will follow. I owe a duty to you an' theould faither; an' I've no wish to go boyant the roar o' the waves that beat over against the black rocks o' Dornach. I know no ither place ; why should I want ither place than that I was born to ?' ' Mother Tavish stopped, and catching Katrine in her arms she kissed her agahi and again. 'I canna believe, Katrine,' she said, in tender tones, as thoy resumed their journey, 'that Heaven intended that them that was lowly born should remain lowly. It would not seem fair in Him that's so good. But I was goin' to tell yo that Miss Mansfield says that she's no seed so beautiful a girl in a' Europe, where she's travelled, as yorsel; an' she offered me to take yo an' send yo to school for a year or twa, an' then, she soys, yo'd mako a fit wife for the President, which I've heard is a man greater nor any king, that rules in the big fair land beyant the sea. , ' Is that you, mither ?' called out a man, whose dim, tall form was barely visihle in the path just before them. ' Aye, it's me, Dugalt, , said thoold woman, looking about her in surprise. 'Why, I didna think wo ware so close to the cliffs, for Katrino an* mo got talkin , about a raatther that made us forget a , else. , ' Whero havo yo como from ?' asked Katrino. ' I'm just fra the hoose,' said Dugald more x sinking his voice, after making sure tbnt there was no one else within hearing. 'An' Miss Ellen?' ' Shoe doon thero ; an , as soon's ye'vo both had o, bit c' supper sho'll be ready to go over wi' ye to the castlo.' ' An' where are you gangin , to ?' asked Mother Tavish. ' I'm goin' oot to keep watch for tho squire. Tarn an' a lot o , the Dornach lads are over watchin' alang tho Grange road, an , if ho tries to como to the castlo tho night, I'm thinkin' he'll wish he hadn't,' said Dugald more, starting off. Mother Tavish called after him to have a care that he did not' get into the clutches of the law, like his betters; and he laughed back that he would keep out of the fryingpan, so that if he jumped it would not bo into the fire. At Mother Tavish's oot all the women in the neighborhood gathered on her arrival, to heat the news, though they had had several reliable versions of the day's proceedings at Dornach already. While eating her supper with Katrine in the front apartment, while Ellen Kyle was within hearing in the back-room, Mother Tavish told her frionds not only what bad happened that day, but what she would like to happen on tho morrow, and tho simple-hearted people, believing that tho narrator had some reason for wishing as she did, strongly believed that everything would happen for the best. Mother Tavish but seldom knew what it WQ3 to bo wea?y, but as sbo sat eating her Bupper she could see that Katrine's faco betrayed the weariness that comes after great physical exertion, when the mind has been working'Bven harder than the body. ' , 'You must etay home tho night, Katrine,! an' if yer feelin' strongor, you can go to\

Dornach for tho rest o' the trial to-morrow ; but yer father '11 go wi' me an , Miss Ellen the night.' ' Aye, that I will,' said old Tom, starting up, ' for I've come near to losin' heart, 1 seem' that there was nothing I could do for Mis 3 Ellen or the young maisters. If hings was on'y settled wi' the sword, as in the quid auld days, I'd no bo far behind the youngest an' bra'est of 'em. ' You are not behind any of them now, Tom Tavish,' said Ellen, coming from the other room and giving him her hand. ' What could I havo done this many a long day, if it had not been for the love and the care of you and yours ?' The old man pressed her hand to his lips, but did not attempt a reply ; had ho done so tho tears in his voice would havo betrayed him. Katrine was prevailed on to remain back, and all being in readiness, Ellen, accompanied by her old friends, who felt they were her body guard, started for the castle. Dugald more had called there before, to tell Sandy M'lntyre and his old wife thnt I Miss Ellen was coming, and as a consequence the old people were looking for her in a state of almost hysterical anxiety. 'How is my mother?' were Ellen's first words, after she had shaken hands with the faithful old servants. ' She 's no so weel,' said Sandy, ' since tho squire was hero.' ' When was ho here ?' ' Not an hour ago, Miss Ellen.' ' Why did ho como ?' c He carve to seek you, an' he had officers wi' him ; an' lie cursed an' swore so that I stood an' wonderttbat the ground on which ho stood didna open right under ho's twa feet an' swallow him up.' Thoy went up to Lady Kyle's room, and found her in bed. She was talking aloud to imaginary people, and the entrance of real ones did not divert her thoughts. 'Mother! mother! It is I—it is Ellen,' cried Ellen, as she kissed her mother, and tried to catch her wandering gaze. 'Wo have family, and he lias money. Oh, I assure you, ~ir Archibald, it is an excellent match and he loves me like a son. The castlo will be forthwith repaired, and all its ancient glories will return. ' Move my chair back from the sunlight, M'lntyre ; the glare hurts my eyes, and it will absolutely ruin my complexion ; there, that will do. Now call Ellen to read to mo, while I doze.' 'lam here, mother! here besido you!' cried Ellen. Lady Kyle did not hear her. She closed her eyes and dropped calmly off to sleep, a sleep from which she never woko again, though five days passed before the heart ceased its faint flutterings, and Dr. Monroe declared she was dead. | 'Thepoor lady needs rest,' said Mother Tavish, drawing the curtains about the high old-fashioned bed. ' Let us doon to tho hall j while she sleeps.' They had hardly reached the hall when the ratUe of wheels could be heard outside, and soon after May Mansfield entered, accompanied by her father and Captain Bell. ' I got your note, my darling,' said May, kissing Ellen, again and again, ' so father, tho captain and myself thought we would steal over and surprise you.' ■'< ' And you have done so most delightfully,' said Ellen, with tearful eyes, adding as she held Mr Mansfield's hand : ' Though your good ship wont down by our shore, Mr Mansfield, she brought a blessing to me and mine.' 'If it hadn't been for you and yours,' said Mr Mansfield, 'in the wreck of the Petrel would have been lost my all. It would bo ingratitude if the lives you saved did not do something to show their appreciation in the hour of your own great troubles.' They remained talking until nearly midnight, when Mr Mansfield proposed that they should return to Dornach. But Ellen would not hear of it. She made the party take their old rooms and remain till daylight. After a long, private conversation with Captain Bell, who had grown unnaturally mysterious of late, Ellen Kyle was actually prevailed on to ride in with the party that morning. As thoy were nearing the village, Mother Tavish, who was sitting on the high front seat beside the driver, turned and oalled down: . . . ' I see tho squire, just in front, an' there's officers wi' him.' ' I don't care if ho has a regiment with him,' said Mr Mansfield; 'he can't part us. If ho takes one, ho takes the whole of us. What do you say to that, Captain Bell ?' ' I am with you,' said the captain. Then he called up to the driver: ' Whip up your horses, and do not stop for Graham nor his men. , ' Whore am I to go to ?' asked the driver, ' To the town hall.' 'Butif it's not open?' 'Then to the inn. Put your horses through, and it'll be an extra pound in your pocket if you do. it well.' Determined to merit this reward, tho driver cracked his whip, and away the horses went at a mad gallop. Squire Graham was mounted, but his companions were on foot. 'Stop the coach! Stop the coach!' shouted tho squire, when he caught sight of Ellen. The constables, who had a warrant for tho young lady, who was described as Squire Graham's run-away wife, made a dash for the carriage. But the whirling whip fell on their heads as well as it did on tho horses' backs, and they went howling back. Urging his fat cob to his utmost speed, which was not very great, and shouting to the constables to follow, and cursing them for not keeping up, Squire Graham hurried after the carriage. When tho one long single street of Dornach was reached tho peoplo saw the flying carriago and the pursuing horseman j Jand taking in the situation they threw themselves fearlessly into the squire's path, and forced him to rein in his panting horso. The town hall door was thrown open just as tho carriage drove up. Mr- Mansfield and tho ladies went in, and the captain remained back to pay the driver; and there he stood till tho squire eamo up. 'Well, Graham,' said the captain, with maddening sangfroid as he looked over the squire's face, ' how are your eye and nose this morning ? Ah! I put in a good pioco of work there, and it was dirt cheap at five pounds. , The bystanders laughed 1 and applauded ; and the squire, muttering diro threats, and consigning the Americans in general, and tho captain in particular, to a very hot place, ho hastened into the hall, where he found everything ready for a resumption of the trial. The little magistrate looked more nervous than ever, but Sir Archibald Wilson, with a white rose-bud in his button-hole, and a smile on his clear,, strong face, looked like » man who bad rested well, and was, thereready for a hard day's work, ■'•'■'. The other coast-guard'tmen who had seen the ship fired and Arohy Boss murdered were dulyexamined, t ' Their stories were so much like that told ley Bob Black, who was present, that any man! accustomed to hearing evidence caulcl see the fellows were simply repeating pieces thoy had] been taught. ' Well, your honor, , - said Sir Archibald when tho last witness had etepped down ' tho evidenco is all in, nnd the only thing I sco to do is to discbargo the prisoner, Donald 'Discharge him!' cried the magistrate. ' No, sir. I shall hold htm ; for, to my mind, thero was never a fact more clearly established than that Archy Boss was murdered by the prisoner, Donald Kyle. , 'Hear! Hear!' exclaimed Cattanach. ' Hear! Hear!' echoed tho squire. (For continuation see next pago.)

' If that i 3 your belief,' said Sir Archibald, with great good nature, ' why, I shall call another witness.' Ho turned and motioned to a heavily bearded man, with long hair, and in sailor's dress, and tho man.came forward and took he witness stand. 'What is this witness's name?' asked the magistrate, preparing to write. ' My name,' said tho witness, in a loud, clear voice,'is Archy Roes.' And thereupon the witness tore off his wig and false beard, and tho lost coast-guards-man stood revealed to the people. (to be continued.)