LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2235, 1 June 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

MY LADY'S HAND. (Concluded.) Tho old man lived some weeks, although he never reoovored his souses, and it was only after his death that these losses were discovered Every effort was made to traoe the fugitives, but in vain. Then a distant cousin, a scampish fellow, laid claim to certain portions of tho estate, and a Chancery suit ensued. The title derds could not be produced; they and some valuable diamonds had vanished from a strong box In the library, the key of which had doubtless been rifled fram the old man's pocket by his unprincipled wife aud her accomplice. A long lawsuit, ending in serious loss to the young heir, was tho result. It was always beliovpd that the revengeful woman had secretly Inntigated the cousin, even perhaps furnished him with funds to pursue his claim, but this was mere surmise, for she disappeared entirely after that interview with her husband. Being forbidden by tho doctor to talk of what he called a feverish dream, I naturally thought all the more of'ifc, and lying pondering about it day after day, I took an odd fancy that the strange appearance I was sure I had seen was in some way connected with these missing deeds. Could the phantom hand bu endeavoring to lead to their hiding place? I suggested such an idea to my husband ; he of course langhed at it. 'My dear Mary, do you expect us to pull up the floorings and wainsooats because you had an attack cf brain fever? What would our landlord say ? I don't doubt you saw this apparition, but It w»s only the effect of illness; don't you remember the odd ideas Cisay took when she had that bad attack of scarlet fever ?' It was vain to argue, but my own convictions remained unshaken. I was fated, however, to find one believer in my tale. Just before we quitted the house our landlord happened to pay a visit to his property. He was in England for a few months, and called to look at his old home, unaware that his agent had sneceeded in letting It. He was a quiet, gentlemanly person, of about forty years of age, and the village inn being of a wretched description, my husband insisted on his spending the night at the house, as ho had intended doing had it still bo«n empty. In tho course of the evening something brought out the story of my adventure. Mr listened atten-

tively, and did not laugh at it; he then asked suddenly if I had obaerved any mark on the hand ?

' Yes,' I said after a moment's reflection, * there was a tiny mole near tho wrist. I observed It because tho rest of the hand was so beautifully white.' 'Long taper finger?, a white hand, and that same mark,' repeated Mr , gravely. and then was silent; presently he asked suddenly if I had heard anything of the previous history of his family. I confessed that my curiosity had led me to inquire with a vlow of accounting for what I had seen.

'Then you know the story of my poor father's unfortunate marriage. Your story, madam, fits in curiously with a last communication I received from that nnhappy woman, my step-mother. About three years ago I was travelling in Italy and made acquaintance with an old priest. On hearing my name he informed me that he believed a relative of mine had recently died in the neighborhood. A lady, possessing the remains of great beauty, had some time before taken a smaM villa in thejvicinity. She lived entiroly secluded from society, and appeared la ill-health. A mystery seemed to surround her ; although she called herself by an Italian name, it was said that she was the wife of an Englishman, whom she had quitted. She herself was a native of Italy. Her death was extremely sudden, it was said that the was found deceased with a pen in her hand in the act of writing a letter, addressed, so the old man remembered, to some one of my name. The frightened servants bad gone for the priest, at'the Fame time as the dootor, but both had arrived too late to be of any service. I applied to the proper authorities, and the half-finished letter was given up to me. It was in English, and began by stating that after years of secret remorse the unfortunate woman felt death approaching, and desired to make such restitution as lay in her power. 'The theft of those deeds lies on my soul,' aha wrote ; ' I shall never rest in my grave unless they are restored. I did not destroy them; you will find them '—the rest was illegible. ' And this letter was never forwarded to you?' asked my husband. 'There was no address on it, only my name. The chance of recovering the deeds are so slight, a clue seemed so faint a hope, that I confess I attached little Importance to the communication. But visiting England on other business I thought I would just look round the old house, although with little hope of ever discovering my property. But your wife's strange tale induces me to think '—

'lt waa fancy, pare fancy, persisted my husband, but Mr and I were anxious to begin our searoh. He carefully examined the little boudoir, and then traced along the stairs, sounding the planks and wainocoating. Just opposite where the hacd disappeared was a wall; on striking against which a hollow sound waa emitted. The paper was soon torn away, and a small cupboard disclosed. The key was missing ; after some t rouble we succeeded in forcing the lock, only apparently to be disappointed in Its contents. Some torn old books and other rubbish were all it contained. Mr —— searched into every corner with a blank expression ; we had quite brought ourselves to believe the discovery of the deeds was at hand. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation, ' There is a loose board here.' Tools and a candle were quickly brought, and, raising the loosened board, a parcel wrapped in many folds of cloth and paper was disclosed. It was the missing packet! I do not attempt to offer an explanation of the foregoing stcry * Curious coincidence,' my husband always called it. It may be so, but I believe Mr and I thought differently. In any case my memory of that evening's adventure is still too vivid to enable me to use my grandchildren's gift, that china hand on my toilette table. C. L.

THE MINISTER'S DBBJAM. Before commencing my story, I wish to stete it is perfectly true in every particular. 'Wo quite understand that,' said the sceptic of our patty, who was wont in the security of friendly intercourse, to characterise all such prefaces as mere introductions te some tremendous blank, blank, blank, which trio the reader can fill up at his own pleasure and leisure. On the occasion in question, however, we had donned our best behaviour, a garment which did not ait ungracefully on some of ua; and our host, who was about to draw oat from the stores of memory one narrative for our entertainment, waa scarcely the person before whom even Jack Hill would have cared to express his cynical and unbelieving views, Yte were seated, an incongruous company of ten persona, in the beat room of an old manso among the Scottish hUls. Accident had thrown us together, and accident had driven us under the minister's hospitable roof. Cold, wet and hungry, drenched with rain, sore with being beaten by the wind, we had crowded throngh the door opened by a friendly hand, and now, wet no longer, the pangs of hunger assuaged with smoking rashers of ham, poached egga, and steaming potatoes, we aat around a blazing fire drinking toddy out of tumblers, whilst the two ladleß who graced the assemblage partook of a modicum of the same beverage from wineglasses. Everything waa eminently but done npon the moat correct principles* Jack could no more have taken it upon him to shock the minister's ears with some of the opinions he aired in Fleet street than he could have asked for more whlßky with his water.

' Yob, It is perfectly true/ continued the minister, lookiog thoughtfully at the fire. ' I can't explain it. I cannot even tiy to ex* plain it. I will tell the story exactly as it occurred, and leave you to draw your own conclusions from it.'

Hone of us answered. We fell into listening attitudes instantly, and eighteen eyes fixed themselves by one accord upon our host.

He was an old man, but hale. The weight of eighty winters had whitened his head, bat not bent it. He seemed as young na any of as—younger than Jack Hill, who was a .reviewer and a newspaper hack, and whose

way through life had not been altogether on easy lines. • Thirty years [ago, upon a certain Friday morning in August,' began the minister, ' I was sitting at breakfast in the room on the other side of the passage*, where you ate your supper, when the servant girl came in with a letter she said a laddie, all out of breath, had brought out from Dendeldy Manse. *He was bidden rln a'the way,' sbe went on, * and he's fairly beaten.' 'I told her to make the messenger sit down and put food before him; and then, when she went to de my bidding, proceeded, I must confess with some curiosity, to break the seal of a missive forwarded in such hot haate.

'lt was from the minister of Dendeldy, who had been, newly chosen to occupy the pulpit his father occupied for a quarter of a century and more. •The call from the congregation originated rather out of respect to the father's memory than any extraoidinary liking for the son. He had been reared for the most part in England, and was somewhat distant and formal in his manners; and, though full of Greek and Latin and Hebrew, wanted the true Scotch accent that goes straight to the heart of those accustomad to the broad, honest, under Soottlsb tongue. ' His people were proud of him, but they did not just like all his ways. They oould remember him a lid r a >ing about the whole countryside, and they conld not understand, and did not approve of, his holding them at arm's length and shutting himself up among his books, and refusing their Jho?pitality, and sending out word he was busy, when maybe some very decent man wanted speeoh with him. I had taken npon myself to point out that I thought he was wrong, and that he would alienate his flock from him. Peihaps It was for this very reason, because I was blunt and plain, he took to [me kindly, and never got on his high horse, no matter what I said to him.

* Well, to return to the letter. It was written in the wildest haste, and entreated me not to lose a moment in coming to him. as he was in the very greatest distress and anxiety. 'Let nothing delay you,' he proceeded. 'lf I oannot speak to you soon I believe I stall go out of my senses.' * " What could be the matter?' I thought. 'What, in all the wide earth, could have happened ?' ' I had seen him but a few days before, and he was in good health and spirits, getting on better with his people, feeling hopeful of so altering his style of preaching as to touch their hearts more sensibly. ' I must lay aside Southern ideas as well as accent, if I can,' he went on smiling. ' Men who live suoh lives of hardship and privation, who cast their seed into the ground under such rigorous skies, and out their corn in fear and trembling at the end of late uncertain summers, who take the sheep out of the snow drifts and carry the lambi into shelter beside their own humble hearths, must want a different sort of sermon from him who sleeps soft and walks delicately.' * I had implied something of all this myself, and it amused me to find my own thoughts come back clothed in different fashion and presented to me as strangers. Still, all I wanted was his good, and I felt glad he showed such aptitude to learn. * What could have happened, however, puzzled ma sorely. I made my hurried preparations for setting out, and fairly perplexed myself with speculation. I went into the kitchen, where his messenger was eating some breakfast, and asked him if Mr Crawley was ill.

'"ldinna ken,' he answered, "He mad' no complaint, but he luiked awful' bad, just awfu'."

* "In what way?" I Inquired. • "As if he had seen a ghaist," was the reply. ' This made me very uneasy, and I jumped to the conclusion the trouble was connected with money matters. Young men will be young men ;' and here the minister looked significantly at the callow bird of onr company, a youth who had never owed a sixpence in his life or given away a cent; while Jack Hill—no chicken, by the way—was over head and ears in debt, and could not keep a sovereign in his pocket, though spending or bestowing it involved going dinnerless the next day. 'Young men will be young mer,' repeated the minister, in his best pulpit manner. ' Juit as though any one expected them to be yonng women !' grumbled Jaok to me afterwards, ' and I feared that now he was settled and comfortably off, some old creditor he had been paying as best he could, might have become pressing. I know nothing of his liabilities, or, beyond the amount of the stipend paid him, the state of his pecuniary affairs ; but having once in my own life made myself responsible for a debt, I was aware of all the trouble putting your arm out further than you can draw it baok involved, and I considered It most probably money, which is the root of all evil,' ('and all good,' Jack's eyes suggested to me), ' was the cause of my young friend's agony of mind. Blessed with a large family—every one of whom is now alive and doing well, I thank God, out in the world—you may imagine I had not much opportunity for laying by ; still, I had put aside a little for a rainy day, and that little I placed in my pocket-book, hoping even a small sum might prove of use in case of emergency.' {To bf continued )