(ALL RIGHTS RRSERVED. ) THE OSSINGTON MYSTERY.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 19 June 1914, Page 7

(ALL RIGHTS RRSERVED. ) THE OSSINGTON MYSTERY.

By Hedley Richards, Author of "The Millionaire's Last Will," "The Day of Reckoning," etc., etc.

PART 12. CHAPTER XIX. THE VERDICT

Every one in court was all atten- • tion as counsel for the prisoner resumed his address. "Gentlemen of the jury, who was the woman who crossed the bridge ? You may say it is a cleverly-concoc-ted tale, behind which the prisoner hopes to shield herself, but we have Proof, that another woman was in the dene at the very hour the shot was fired, and that woman a lunatic who, in her sanest moods, had hated Lord Bewley, and regarded him as an interloper, and who, in her mo~:*t ments of 'renzy, yearned for his 9* blood with an intense longing. , One fact is very significant—the murder took place directly after the mad woman's arrival in the neighbourhood. We have been told she brought no weapon with her, a nd had no- opportunity of obtaining one ; but we have all heard of the wonderful cunning of insane people. It is possible she secreted it in the dene before seeking shelter a t Mrs. Burton's. Then, asjain, the motive for her was far stronger than any which could ■prompt the prisoner, apart from her hatred of Lord Bewley. The one dominant impression which she retained was that by his death her 3on would gain. To the prisoner Lord Bewley's death meant ruin to her hfopes. He might, as n~e became a steadier and wiser man, have acknowledged her ; but she would not Ito hope for indulgence from the marquis. "Lastly, gentlemen of the jury, x '.vonld suggest the possibility of a third'woman having been in the dene Same other woman may have had grievous cause for complaint against his lordship, and settled her account in a summary way. Who knows the mystery which may yet have to bo mveiled before the truth is revealed? All this,- you may say, is supposition. It may be so ; but, gentlenion of the jury, my client is spotless, and I ask you to give a verdict in accordance with the evidence. I bes^r-h you not to give undue weight to that strong chain of circums'sntiaJ evidence which my learned friend relies upon, which, in reality is so hrittle that the finding of the weapon could at once snap it. It may be urged, if the prisoner had been innocent, she would have gone to the marquis when ber husband died, and confided to him the secret of her marriage. Not so ; Mary Hirst possesses a nature strung too finely for that. She has been born and bred in a cottage, but her instincts are those of a lady, and she would have died rather than voluntarily revealed the secret her dead husband had pledged her to keep. Had he lived, it is possible she might have taken her wrongs to the marquis, but death made his wishes sacred. You have been told that the highest natures fall the lowest under sudden temptation. It may be so with some fiery, passionate natures, but the prisoner has shown a capacity to withstand temptation, and to bear the miseries of her position with fortitude. Such a woman was not one to rashly send the man she had vowed to love to his last account ; rather would she seek to win him back to his allegiance. Gentlemen of the fury-, I beseech you to remember the awful responsibility which rests upon you, and to see that through you justice is done to the wronged and Innocent." With this eloquent appeal the counsel for the defence closed, having held the attention of all in court during his long and able speech. The judge then be^an summing up, drawing the attention of the jury to the evidence in a minute way. As he proceeded it was plain that his speech would tell against the prisoner. He showed how every little detail fitted, and thlat the circumstantial evidence was strong. It was a long address, and at the close the jury retired to consider their verdict. I looked at the prisoner, and saw that she appeared pale and anxious. I could tell she knew the case was going against her. After about half an. hour's absence the jury returned, and all eyes were fixed on them, as the judge inquired if they were unanimous in their verW diet. The foreman replied : "Yes, my lord. We find the prisoner guilty, but wish to strongly recommend her to mercy on the score at her extreme youth, and the great provocation she received." "I will see that your recommendation is forwarded to the proper quarter." He then passed sentence of death and as he concluded, a piercing cry burst from the unhappy girl, and throwing her arms wildly in the air she fell back in a swoon, being carried out of court in that state. I felt very .9id. I could see that she had expected to be acquitted. Hope had died hard in her breast,* and I deeply pitied the unfortunate girl. As I was leaving the hall Mr. Newton touched me on the shoulder. "Counsel for the prisoner wishes to speak to you ; he is waiting in there." I followed him to a small room used by the barristers. Mr. Hervey came towards me. "I purpose drawing up a petition on behalf of that poor girl. Do you fcnink the marqtuis would head it ? I judge from the course he has taken tkat he knows. fr?«m .if she is aiili^

...~~^ ucmy uac-u, anu mignt i-e disposed to help." I hesitated. "I know he pities her, but whether he would go so far as to head the petition I cannot say." "You will see him again before you leave the north, I suppose ?" "I am going to the Hall at once. I promised to convey the verdict to his lordship." "You will mention the matter to him ?" "I will, and will give you his answer to-morrow as I pass through Troncastle on my way south." "I shall be gone," he replied, "but j the petition will be kit with the I Mayor. I believe it will be largely . signed ; but if the marquis signed it, she might feel sure of a commutation of her sentence. Nothing could tell so much in her favour. By the way, Mr. Brown, how is it you have made such a blunder ?" and he looked at me in a strange manner. "Blunder ! I do not understand you, sir." "You have got hold of the wrong •woman, and you will live to prove imy words true, or I am much mistaken." "The evidence is strong, sir." "Fairly so—.'(uite strong enough to justify a conviction ; but 3ou are on j the wrong track, and her sentence j must be commuted. Time will do the !rest." "What do you mean, sir? The evidence does not point to Lady Neville, a nd it clearly does to the prisoner." "I have formed a theory of my own regarding the murder, which I strongly suspect is very mar the truth, Mr. Brown, and I think if ever the weapon is found, it. will prove that poor girl's innocence. However, we cannot alter the verdict now, .but we may get a commutation of the sentence ; and if you cati induce the marquis to lend bis influence to the petition, it will help greatly." "I will do my best, sir, and sincerely hope she may escape hanging." "Very well ; I rely on your help. Good-day, sir." ■ And we parted. i -Mr. Newton walked a little way with me. "Do you believe the girl is guilty, Mr. Newton?" I "asked, feeling uncomfortable. "I thinK the evidence against her as strong as circumstantial evidence can be ; but I must own there Is something in her manner not compatible with guilt." I had just that feeling, and Mr. Newton's words seemed to confirm it. In a few minutes we parted, and I hastened to the station, being just in time to catch a train for Ossington. On arriving there I walked quickily to the Hall, feeling very uncomfortable through Mr. Hervey's words. It would be a dreadful thing if I had got the wrong- woman ; but •whichever way I looked at it, the evidence pointed to the prisoner. On reaching the Hall, I inquired if the marquis was at liberty, and was told \«i was in the library, and had desired to see me as soon as I returned. When I entered the room he looked eagerly a t me. "The verdict ?" he said, quickly. "Guilty, my lord," I answered, gravely. He leaned back in his chair and put his hand before his face, but I could see he was greatly moved. "The jury strongly recommended her to mercy, and her counsel is drawing up a petition to forward to the Home Secretary, and he desired me to make a request to your lordship." "What is it ?" he said. j "That you will head the petition, my lord." ' A look of annoyance spread over his face. "How can I?" he said, qnickly. "It is a delicate thing to ask, my lord, but to be merciful belongs to the great, and that she was bitterly wronged cannot be denied, if you will pardon me saying so." "One sin is no justification for a greater one. She has brought her trouble on herself." '"My lord, there is no justification, but there are some extenuating circumstances." He rose from his chair and paced the room. ; "I would gladly do thi3, but if I put my name to that petition the world will say by so doing I hiave condemned my dead son—and there are plenty to do that already, without me assisting them," he said, bitterly. I knew it was true, so remained silent. At last he said : "I will think the matter over, and give you my answer to-morrow at noon." "I purpose leaving here, early tomorrow, my lord. I wish to catch the ten o'clock train for the south." "You need not hurry. Why go tomorrow ?" "My work is done, and my services will be useful elsewhere. However, if you desire it, I can leave by the six p.m. train from Troncastle." "You will greatly oblige me by doing so. I will give you my decision at twelve to-morrow." "I will see you at thfet hour, my lord." As I left the room I noticed that he sank wearily back in his chair. In the vestibule I met Lady Mary. "What is the verdiot ?" she asked. "They have found her guilty, my lady." A look of pity stole into her eyes as she said : "Poor girl, I pity h«r deeply) !"| and with these words she left me, i going towards the library. When I reached the housekeeper's room I found my tea was waiting, as the good lady had hearti of my arrival. Afterwards I took out my

I notebook and reviewed the evidence. It was very strong, but in spite of myself, the counsel's words made me i uncomfortable. It would be a terrible blunder if an innocent woman suffered for the crime. Tired and weary with thinking, I I went early to bed, but my slumbers I were uneasy. All night long I seemed jto hear the words, "How is it you have made such a blunder ? You are on the^ wrong track ; " but instead: of them being spoken by the prisonI er's counsel, it was the voice of Mr. Brookes, the best detective in ScotI land Yard, who boasted that he had ; never made a mistake in a case, and ; his jeering tone seemed to lend conviction to his words. CHAPTER XX. I WHAT I POUND. I -I was up early the next morning, and after breakfasting with the ; housekeeper, I decided to pay a fare- ' well visit to the dene. It was a i bright, sunny morning, and the ground felt crisn pn d hard. I entered the dene by the same path as I had clone on my first visit with Mr.New- ! ton. Going direct to th° spot where the murder had been committed, I paused and looked about me. '. "If that tree had not previously been user! a s a target, it might have told a tale," I thought, as I once more examined it. All at onc 3 I noticed lower down than the bullet marks T had previously seen, in a decayed part of the tree, where a branch had been broken off, a "small bole. Taking my pencil I inserted it, ~ and found that it went in a slightly downward, oblitfue direction. At the depth) of a lew inches I felt it strike against something- hard. Taking out my poc-ket-knife I dug into the rotten wood, and found that the substance was a small conical bullet, totally unlike those I had before found. Had I at last found the bullet which had killed Lord Bewley ? If so it would be easy to identify the pistol which it would fit. I saw at once, from the course the . bullet had taken in the tree, that if ;it was the. one, (he pcrr.on firing it 1 must have stood liirh up on the bank the other side of Lho stream, several yards higher up the dene than the snot from which the others had been fired. Crossing the stream I climbed the ban;r, and, taking my stand behind a large thorn tree, I came at once to thn conclusion that it w^s from behind this that the fatal shot had been fired. I carefully examined the ground, which was strewn with dead leaves, but I could not discover anything further. As I was turning away, my eye suddenly rested en something sparkling on one of the branches. Stretching out my hand, I found it was a small diamond eirrin^. Examining it closely, I saw it was of exquisite workmanship, and^of a very peculiar style. I put it with the bullet in my pocket, and after making sure nothing more could he found, I returned to the Hall. How I had missed it before I could not tell, for I knew I had previously examined the spot. Then I remembered that three weeks ago the tree had still loaves on it ; therefore, th)e jewel might have escaped my observation, even had I looked above my head. It was the diamond glistening in the sun which had attracted my notice. I wondered if Mary Hirst wore earrings, but could not remember seeing her wear them. But if this should prove to be hers, she would no doubt have discarded them on discovering her loss. Then I tried to remember if the mad woman wore earrings, but could not. •■ Walking quickly, I soon reached the Hall. As I ascended the steps I heard the stable clock chime the half-hour after ten. It wanted an hour and a half to the time of my appointment with the mai\juis, but I resolved to seek an interview immediately. On entering, I asked the footman if he would inform the marquis that I should be much obliged if he would grant me' an Interview at once. "I will wait here until you return," I added, not caring to go as far as the housekeeper's room, which was in another wing. In a minute or two the man returned. "My lord will see you at once in the library, Mr. Brown." I hastened to the room, and tapping gently at the door, the marquis bade me enter. Lady Mary was with him, and they both regarded me anxiously as I entered. "You will excuse me requesting an interview so early, my lord, but I have discovered something." "la it the weapon ?" inquired the marquis. "No, my lord, but I am very much mistaken if it is not the bullet which shot your son." "Strange it should be found now ! Do you think it will be an additional proof of thol • t- girl's guilt?" • "I Wave i .-0 than that, my lord —I hav<_ . . > a woman's earring." "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, while Lady Mary, who until then had sat perfectly quiet, said : "How dreadful ! Then she must have done it." "It is certain a woman did the deed," I replied. "However, I will show you what I have found ; " and takring the earring and bullet from my pocket, I laid them on the table. As Lady Mary looked a>t the earring she uttered an exclamation of horror and surprise. At the same time the marquis, who was examining the bullet, turned deaUi&y white. I saw they recognised them, and turning to Lady Mary, who appeared as if she was going to faint, I said •

"You recognise it, my lady ?" "I—l don't know. Oh, don't ask me," she said, bursting into a flood of tears. The marquis meanwhile laid the bullet quietly on the table, and, turn.to his daughter said : "My dear, control yourself. There has been much to disturb you lately, but this outburst will do no good."' I fancied he was trying to gain time, so I said : "I think you know the revolver that bullet will fit, my lord." "Do you ?" he asked, quickly. "I do not. But I could soon find out, and your lordship will doubtless assist me." He hesitated, then said, in a constrained voice : "I believe the bullet fits a revolver of Sir Thomas Latimer's." I started ; then in an instant a flood of light seemed to illuminate me, and, turning to Lady Mary, who was now sitting perfectly quiet,' but white to her lips, I said : "And the earring belongs to Miss Blanche Latimer ?" Her lips formed the word "Yes," but no sound escaped. "Are you certain ?" inquired the marquis of his daughter. She shuddered, and nodded her head. j For a minute there was total silence ; then, turning to Lady Mary, I said : "My lady, it is imperative I should j question you or I would not trouble i you at present." She again nodded her head in b mechanical manner. "When you had those shooting matches in the dene during the sumj mer, whose revolver did Miss Latimer use ?" Two or three times she tried to speak, but was unable. At last safe said, "My brother's," and her voice was almost choked with sobs. "Did she ever bring one with her ?" | ' "Never." ! "Was it an arrangement that you I should shoot with the gentlemen's re- | volvers ?" ; "It was. I used my cousin's, and Miss Latimer used my brother's. Oh, those miserable shooting parties ! I never wanted them," she exclaimed, hysterically. "You shot from the bank at the tree close to which your was found, I suppose ?" "Yes ; " and she shuddered. "Did any of you ever shoot from befhind the thorn tree ?" "Oh, no ;we were further on the i bank." "That is, further from this end of the dene ?" "Yes." "You are quite certain Miss Lati-mc-r never shot from there —say, in a ,' frolic ?" '•"I- never saw her." "You were always there when the snooting was going on ?" "Always." "You are certain this earring is hers ?" j"I wish you would not question me so much," she said, almost angrily. "It is unavoidable, my Ir.dy. You will kindly answer my question." i"I am sure it is hers," she reluctantly answered. : "When did you last see her wearing it ? Now think, my lady, and try to be certain before you reply." !"I am quite certain when it v/an, because of some nonsense that was talked. She called at the Hall tho Saturday morning before my poor brother was killed, and when we were talking" "That vfus you and Miss Latimer?" I interrupted. "Oh, no, my cousin ;nd brother were present, and Miss LL.timer was telling my brother of a splendi.l hunter Captain Fitzwillir.m had to sell. He laughed, saying he wished he could afford to buy it ; but he'd spent all his quarter's all j>wance,and if he went to my father, he would think he was going, to rui \ headlong, so he had decided to a]j >ly t to the Jews for money to keep him going. Of course, we all laughs.!, and Miss Latimer said she was in a similar predicament, and it was a pity she could not apply to the Jews ; but as it' would be considered unladylike, she thought it would be better to pawn her earrings, which were valuable, both as jewels and heirlooms, having been a long time in her mo- , ther's family. My brother, in fun, then offered to pawn thorn for her, and she took one out of her ear, asking how much he could get on it. Then there was a lot of nonsense talked, during which the earring was , passed round, and she told us a legend connected with them. She said | they had been in her mother's family | over a hundred years, and it was i ; stated the original possessor had j ' said whenever one was lost the last daughter of her line would be near her end. I asked her if she was not afraid of losing them, and she said, I 'Not in the least.'l She preferred wearing them ; they were a sort of j talisman." j "Who was the young lady's mother ! may I ask ?" I "The daughter of an Italian count, of broken fortunes," said the marquis. j "So she has Italian blood in her," j I said, in a significant tone. After a minute's silence, I said : "My lord, I will tell you where I found those things." i Just then the door opened, and Captain Neville entered. He advanced to the table near which his uncle and cousin were stated, a, d by which I was standing. "I hope I am not interrupting a conversation ; " then, as hi« eyes rested on the earring, which still lay on the table, he coloured slightly, and exclaimed : "Why, Mary, what are you doing with Miss Latimer's earring-?" No one spoke, and he looked at

j his cousin in surprise ; bat she st.il : remained silent, and the m^ini looked at me in an embarrassed man ner. 1 I saw he wished me to explain, s< I told the captain where I had foum it and the bullet. He seamed struct dumb, and his face had a drawr look, which told me that even hei manner at the trial had not curec him of his love for Blanche Latimer After a short time he said : "It does not follow because you found these things near the place where my cousin was shot that it connects Miss Latimer with the murder." "She was wearing them on the Saturday before the murder," I said quietly. He looked reproachfully at Lady Mary. "I could not help it ; I was obliged to answer his questions. Don't look a t me so, Horace," she said, pitifully. He turned almost fiercely on me. "You will not get a ny information from me unless I am absolutely compelled to give it ;" and turning on his heel he left the room. "That girl has been a curse to my family," said the marquis, "and I will not shield her, even for her uncle's sake. She has treated them both shamefully, and if your suspicions are right, has murdered my son." "There must be some explanation. What could make her kill George ? He was devoted to her," said Lady Mary to her father. "Mad jealousy, when she found he I was tied to another woman." Lady Mary shuddered."My dear, you had better leave us now," said her father, kindly. She rose, then paused. "She is very dangerously ill. You will not name it to her now ? — it would kill her." Then, as a hideous thought presented itself, she said, "Oh, it would be batter for her to die than face this ;" and went quickly out of the room. "How shall you act ?" inquired the marquis. „ "I scarcely know, my lord. I should like to obtain possession of j the fellow to that," I sail, pointing |to the earring. "But I must act de- : cisively for Mrry Hirst's sa'<re." "Ah, yes, it may mean freeiom for her." ! "It will, if it is, proved pgai-st . Miss Latimer. I suppose, my lord, : you read what the prisoner's counsel j said about her seeing a tall woman iin a long cloak cross t v.c further j bridge and ascend the ban'- in a slanting direction. Would trlt be the route for any one to taVe to the i Grey House ?" I"A most direct one, if they knew ' the dene." : After a shiort pause, he said : "You will remain here now ?" ;"I think I must, and I will telegraph to London, raying I am detained." "The petition will be quashed now, I suppose ?" said his lordship. "Let them go on with it—no harm will be done, and I do not wish anything to ooze out until I have positive proof that Mary Hirst is innocent. This time I will be certain I am right before taking any decisive step." "The proof was strong in the other case ;so you need not blame yourself, Mr. Brown," said the marquis, kindly. "That it has appeared so to bothl judge and jury will be my only justification, if I have erred. And now, my lord, I will leave you, as I wish to despatch my telegram to Scotland Yard." Taxiing the bullet and earring, I turned to leave the room. "Jiist a minute, please. Though I have said that bullet belongs to Sir Thomas Latimer's revolver, I could riot swear to it, but the peculiar shape struck me. He was showing it to me one day." "I can soon settle that question, my lord, if I get hold of his revolver ; " and with these words I left the room. Going- to Ossington I despatched my telegram, and returned to the Hall in time to dine with the housekeeper at one o'clock. She seemed curious when she heard I was going to remain at the Hall, but I contrive! to evade her questions without offending her. After dinner I remained in her sitting room, considering how I should act. At last I formed a plan, and at that moment Mrs. Willis entered the room. I "Can you tell me at what hour the service in the Catholic church at Baton is held to-night ?" | "Is there a service, sir ?" she inI quired. | "The confessional, I mean. Will there be any particular time ?" "I am sure I cannot say. Are you a Roman Catholic, Mr. Brown ?" "I don't think I am, Mrs. Willis, but I want to know the hour the confessional is held. Can you get to know ?" She considered a minute. "To be sure I can, sir. One of the housemaids is a Roman Catholic, and goes now and then to confession." "Don't tell her I want to know." "Very well, sir," she said, as she left the room. In a short time she returned. "There is a confessional held every Tuesday and Friday evening from six to eight," she said. "Thank you, Mrs. Willis. Now, would it be too much trouble to let me have a cup of tea a little before five ?" | "Not the least trouble, sir. I will take mine half an hour earlier tonight." Punctually a t a quarter to five the tea was brought in, and in spite of the good lady's curiosity, I did not enlighten her as to my reason for de- ' siring an early tea. About half-past

t five I left the Hall, and crossing the ; j road, entered a field on the opposite - side, which was divided from the road by a stone wall about as high i as a man. I Sheltering myself behind it, I ; walked slowly up and down on the soft grass, listening for footsteps. ' One or two passed, but the person I was looking for did not come, and I was thinking of returning to the Hall, when I heard quick, light footsteps, and peering cautiously over the wall, I saw Miss Blanche Latimer's foreign maid pas« o n the other side. Shle was evidently going to confession. She had said she would try to get off, and had succeeded. I waited until she was out of sight, then followed her at a leisurely pace; On reaching Baton I soon discovered the Catholic church, and waited near. In about half an hour T observed the woman come out, and keeping out of her view, i watched her turn towards home. Taking care to keep out of her sight, I Hollowed at a respectable distance, Then, as she left the town behind and reached the road leading to the Hall, I quickened my pace, and rapidly gained on her in spite of her quick walking. On hearing footsteps behind her she at once turned, and as the moon was very bright she recognised me at once. "I thought monsieur would have ; gone back to London," she said as I joined her. "I.could not leave without seeing you again," I said, in a voice full.of feeling. She simpered a bit as she said : "Mr. Detective, you are a flatterer." "Indeed, madame—or, as I have been thinking it must be, mademoiselle—you are mistaken. I stayed on purpose." "Really." And I saw she was very much flattered. "Yes, indeed I did. But first I must ask your pardon for addressing you as 'madame.' It was your good looks which made me do so. I could not imagine such beauty unappropriated. But when I came to think of y.iu Ireing, Mips I;: timer's maid, I knew1 you must be free." "Monsieur is right. lam maiemoiselle, but usually am.called 'madame' as more in keeping with my years." "Your years ! Let me see, you will be about thirty. That's the outside, I'm certain. So they take the sober- | cr title young in your country. Weil, I don't disli'n it." "Monsieur is flattering me," she 'said, in a •gratified tone. "I am a i little over forty." J "I cannot believe thnt, marine ; : but if you are r you ar^ the \oungestj loohing woman I ever saw." j She smiled beamingly. "Well, I do think I am well preserved ; but I have not worried unduly. If only my poor youn«- lady j had taken matters quietly." j "Is she better ?" I inquired. ! "She is terribly bad, monsieur. 1 They have sent for another nurse ; i they say it will take two, she is so violent. Mon Dieu, the screams last night were awful !" "Did you help to nurse her ?" | "No. They will not let me enter | the room. That brute of a doctor 1 says only, the nurse and Sir Thomas I must have the entree." | "Does not Lady Latimer go in ?" j "Oh, no, my Lady Latimer is too , delicate, and Miss Blanche is very I violent and calls out awful. Sir Thomas has given orders that the servants are not to go into the corri- ! dor, where her rooms are. He says they may take the fever ; but that is all one farce. The brain fever does ( not infect, and I go, but he is very cross if he sees me." "You are very much attached to i her ?" I said, wanting to test .hfer. ! "You are right, monsieur ; I have known her all her life. I was her mother's -maid—though monsieur does think me so young—and I love her ! much, and if they would have let me !do anything for her, I should not have*be\en out to-night." ! "What a loss it would have been' ito me!" I said, gravely. "When a ! man at my time of life, with a com- \ fortable income, and nothing to wait ' for, meets with a woman he admires it is hird to be denied the privilege of cultivating her acquaintance." She looked much pleased as she said : | "How many ladies has monsieur wished to cultivate ?" ; "Not one," I said, truly—"that is until I saw you," I added, quicMy. | "It is very often I have been addressed in this manner, monsieur, but for Miss Blanche's sake I have always refused to listen ; but my lady is grown, and does not need me .so , much now, even if she recovers, ! which I doubt. In-Iced, I- have little I hope she will live. I knew before | this sickness came that she was neir | her end." ! "Indeed, had you a warning ?" ! "Never mind how, monsieur ; but : I did know my young lady was ; fated." . j By this time we had passed .the ' Hall, and turned across a field-path ' leading to the road above the dene. ' It was much further than goinr. ' through the dene, but my conminior ! told me nothing, would induce her to [ go through that ill-fated place at • night. I "I had a piece of good lurk this morning—l found this," I said, tak- ■ ing from my pocket the earring ilU d . holding it up for her to sre. ■ The diamond flashed in the moon- ! light, and I saw at once that she re- j cognised it. Holding out her hand to j take it, she said : |. "Why, that is the one Miss Blanche lost !" To be Continued.

Egbert Dendyk, aged 9, has been appointed organist in the cljurcli at ' Hurweneu. Holland. ;