The Dead With Head Witness:d OR THE LADY OF LISBON PLACE. By MRS. M. V. VICTOR, Author of "The Phantom Wife," " Who Owned the Jewels," &c. CHAPTER XII. CHAPTER XIII,

Te Aroha News, Issue 166, 21 August 1886, Page 7 (Supplement)

The Dead With Head Witness:d OR THE LADY OF LISBON PLACE. By MRS. M. Y. VICTOR, Author of " The Phantom Wife," " Who Owned the Jewels," &c.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII,

AN APPARITION IN A FOG. . "What was done with that package of arpenic ?' queried Mrs Jardine, when the little' family, including Mr Harris, who had finished but the night in his friend's room, jaded and palo, gathered about the breakfast " table, awkwardly waited on by Chinchoo. '■ . ,x * "I 'took possession of it," answered Rouaeyn. *• A few moments ago Fffirew it in the- kitchen stove. ,If you wish, Mrs Jardine, I will ero over to Alaraeda to-day and find out if Eteo obtained the stuff there. Whoever sold it to him ought to bo reprimanded." ■ ' "Do not go," she quickly replied. "Gentlemen, now that the danger is over, you will oblige me by letting the, affair drop." Her peremptory manner was ' not altogether pleasing to Romoyn ; he firmly believed that the whole matter should be investigated ; but if site declared against it, there was no more to be done. The meal was eaten very nearly in silence but John ■ Harris was oblivious of the general constraint, for his chair was next to Bella's, and this was enough to make him content, though he had been eating fried cotton instead of the light frittei'3 which Chincboo sowed. Mis 3 Jardine wag a little drooping, as m'ght be expected, after the night she had passed. She endeavoured to 1 fix it on Romeyn's mind that that was the cause of it, and he was ready to bolieve it. He had suffered too terribly from heart-ache himself to wish for the paltry vanity of the triumph to inflict one pang on this young heart. Her f' pale looks, sweet as those oF a languid white rose, touched him with a gen lie sorrow. He did mosb sincerely wUh that his ftiend had that place in her favour which he had unwittingly gained. After breakfast the, two gentlemen went out, and it was resolved, before Romeyn redumed to the house, that he should at once take a room . at the hotel, as Mrs Jardine'e household arrangements must have been disturbed by the loss of Elee's services ; and a few days could make little differences in breaking the engagement. Anatolo was not fit to study, while John Harris was in constant want of his frisnd's advice and aid in fitting out his expedition and getting his stock company in shape. Thus Romeyn's career as a tutor came to a summary cloee. Mrs Jardine made no objection to his leaving the house. Bella was ea-l and t-ilent. For the first time in her ploasant, easy lifo something of the care and disappointment which all must begin sooner or liter" to bear preeaed down her giriieh buoyancy. She was no longer a child. As she had cried fo passionately to the tutor when be called her so, ehe was not a child. The life of a woman ha&J begun for her, and begun in tears, A fortnight slipped away, and still the two young men were in San Francisco, haviiig met with more delay in finding the men whom they wished than Harris had anticipated. As for the Isabella Gold Mining Company, as he had gallantly named it — that was in full bloom ; all the stock they had chosen to put on the market was immediately taken up, while John Harris became quite a lion among the bulls and bears ot Montgomery street. It may be that these facts became knawn to Mrs Jardine, since her manner changed, becoming very gracious to Harris, who spent every evening of the fortnight at h6r house, generally accompanied by Mrßomeyn. John would havo been as happy as a king had her daughter's demeanour been equally encouraging ; but Bella's reserve continued while her sweet face was shadowed with a daep melancholy. More than once Oscar surprised those tender brown eyes fixed on his face with ail hor soul melting in thorn ; and then, when he found them thus, they would droop, and a burning blush would overspread her cheeks. Sometimes John would sco it, too, and then he would feel low-spirited and discouraged the remainder of the evening ; but he was a brave fellow — brave in love as veil a8 war— and he had made up his mind to win Bella Jardine, if patience and ardour could do ii. It was the first real love of hh life. Indeed, he had not particularly fancied any woman since the splendid young lady of soven-and-twenty to whom he had devoted himself when he was eighteen. Being in love, he was as energetic about that as his other affairs ; he would have made short work of wooing and wedding, had the girl been inclined to return his passion ; but Bella continued to play shy, until Oscar almost provoked with her, for his friend's sake. All this time, too, they were both of them doing their best to persuade Mrs Jardine to send Anatole home under their charge. Thi3 she continued to refuse to do, saying that she was going to take a house in Alameda the first of May, and epend the summer there with her little charge, per hapsaleo taking him a trip to the Yosemite, or some other wonderful' region. She had no doubt that he would do very well, an i she was bound to keep her promise to his father to give him a year's trial of the California climate. Meantime, Anatole had gotten about the house again, with his large, bright eyea larger and brighter than ever, and his loving little heart more loving. He clung to Mrs Jardine with vine-like tenacity, while she wa3 always_caressing him in a quiet way as if rather desirous of avoiding the observation of others. He was a child to admire and love—admire for his high spirit and courage— love for hia docility and sweet disposition. Romeyn never looked at him without inwardly shuddering at the depravity of that heathen creature who could undermine the health and lifo of the trusting, affectionate boy. Poor, innocent Anatole mourned over Elee's loss ; the reason of the discharge being kept from him, his aunt not considering it prudent to shock him with the truth. "Elee was very good to me," he would say, over and over. "I know that he liked me ; and I'm co sorry you sent him away, Aunt Julietta. ' I was going to ask you if T might have him when I went back to Mexico, for- my; own servant. What fault did he commit, auntie?"* •. > It lacked but three days of the one set for the departure of the -miners and,: their chief, with Romeyn acting as lieutenant ; arid still' John .had* made -no .progress in his suit, unless taking the big diamond to a jeweller and having it set inra>ring,to be r«ady in c«ee of need, .could be called promw i^if ~<i-«lua "U-jX irs»v£B <;o B -;c,"hcq]

gress" M *He"had "gone nTght aTter nlghf ancl ,eat and looked atjtfye girl and sjghed, ,un,til, - as he confided to,*Qasi}£;, ' 'ehe, must , think moa»fop|." ' t •" ' v „ Vv "• ','\, - . - ! -".Now, I tell.ypti, what ifc is,'^ hejsaid, */Ji - muet speak or burst. I kno w she^won't have, me, and I can't live, without tier.-, 'l shall start out on this expedition with my hearts away down ia the soles of my boots,; consequently, if I meet a Comanche, he'll gettha better of mo,, for it requires spunk to hold your own with theEe savages, and I shall have no spunk left; What a world this is for cross-purpogesf, Oscar. Why couldn't she have kept that precious little heart ofc hers a few weeks looger.untii I cama alone and asked for it, tiuce you do not wish it ? I know I'm as great a, donkey as Bottom was j but if the juice had been squeezed, on her eyelids at the right time, the might re~ gard even me, withiavour." "There- .will be ; rib harm in speaking, John. You can, at least, offer yourself, even if you are refused." '•Ay, there's the rub^-ref used !' "Why, good gracious 'old fellow, she refuses me every time Igo there. I ask her with my ' eyes, and she says no with her eyes. No, , no ! I shall ruin my only chance if I speak " too soon.'* "Then you are going- without asking her?" 3 " The fact is, Oscar, Ihave been thinking about making a proposition to the mother." "A proposition?' "Ye3 — to accompany us overland fa Sebastian's eancha. Perhaps if she and her daughter Were to go with him she would consent to the boy's return. Ifc will bo & desperate hard journey for ladies j but I know we can take care of them ; and really it will be no more perilous than for them to attempt, a few months later, to reach Senor Sebastian's by the other route. The City of Mexico is half the time in a state of siege ; troops are prowling over tho country ; the northern portion is more safely reached in the manner propped than in any other t and I—" "You can continue your courtehip all through the journey." " Why, yes. You need not laugh at me. Of course, I consider that. Tell me what you think of it, O-:car 1" "You know how much actuul danger there is far better than I." "Xhoro is some daDger from Indians; I don'l deny it. But we have fifty picked men, all good fightera. If I didn't think we could take care of the ladies I would be the last one to suggest their going with us. The fact i=?, Mrs Jardine herself mentioned the matter last evening." "Is that so?" "Yea. She aaid she had been thinking of it, and would like it, as she had two or three reasons for desiring to return to Mexico ; that she \saa very hocoesick in S -m Francisco ; should never make any acquaintances, if she remained here twenty years j iv short, that ehe would think it over to day^ and this evening she would talk about it ' " It" the proposal cornea from her it will bo all right, John. You sse, it will relieve us - of a certain responsibility, vhich. }\e should. feol did we urge the undertaking upon her, and then ifc should prove disastrous." " Which it mu«t not," intorluded John. " I cannot explain \vl\y I ieel as I do, but> I ehall go away with a heavy heart if I leave Anatole behind. I am impressed fhat the child ought to be with bisr father." " And 1 am impressed that Miss Jardxne/ ought to be wii.li her cousin, ' liughed John. " Well, Oscar, I mutt clo-e my order with tho pork man, sso that the powder is on hand, purchase twelve more rifle 3, attend to the beans and coffee, and send Tim, Bowlder to look up Long- Leg- J.oe, who has not shown his face to me for three days. I'm afraid he intends to desert, for he is a deepsrate Indian-fighter, and a firat-rata cook. I want Joe." " Then I hope you may find him, At what houivwill you be in ?" '• About tea-time. Then wo will make. our regular fcveniiig call on t'".c ladies, and. find out what they have decided. Do you, kuow, 0.-car, I think the mothor begins to* favour my suit." * " I have thought tho sanae." '• I ttish I could like her better. Oscar, that angol is not a bit like her mother." " So you have remarked before."' " Every day I think it more strongly. It is unreasonable for mj to feel prejudiced against Mrs Jardine, because she resembles a lady whom I once saw occupying an un* pleasant po&ition - unreasonable and unjust* and yet the impression deeoens. / don't like her" " Don't like your mother in law ? How uncommon ?" ''Now, jou know, Oscar, I'm just tha fellow to be devoted to a mother-in-law. 1 want to love, honour, and respect mine, if I ever have one. I would wish to like Bella's as if she were my own, but I can't like Mrs Jardine, and I'm sorry she's Bella's mother." "She is fiV.e-looking and we'l-mannered. But she is reserved and self-reliant ; not a woman to win one's affections by dependence, certainly." "I must be going. If I could make the* j'oung lady like me, I should not worry about the mother. ' Well, good bye till teatime." Head-over-heels in love as he was, he wast yet nwter of himself and his resources ; ha could " epjoo " in confidence to Oscar, bull out among men he was a man. Before th.Q closing of business hours he had done a large amount of work ; than he returned ta his hotel and made quite a dashing toilet, with a rosebud in his button -hole, took tea with Oscar ; and then the two set out for Mrs Jardine's. " Confound it, Oscar, the proprieties are hard on a foller. Don't you think I might take her some little thing us a keepsake, now tlat I am going away ?" pausing before the gaa-lighted show-window of a jeweller f and looking wistfully in. " But you hope to take her with you." "I do fShecankeop itin that case, because there would be nothing else to do with ifc,The jeweller would not take it back. Come; in Let us look at his trinklots." They entered the shop. John was hard to please. ; c but finally came away with an exquisite bracelet, fit for a princess. When they entered Mrs Jardine'a parlour he handed the box containing it to, Anatole, sayjng ia a whisper : " Go, clasp that on your cousin's arm. Ask her to wear .it, not for my cake, but* because I am Oacar'e friend." Auatole gave the meseage faithfully* causing Bella to blush at the curiou9 reason given for htr weating the gift ; but she fastened it about her dimpled white wrist» and after doing so, looked over at , Mr Harris with the sweetest smile she had ever given him. Perhaps her hard little heart was touched by the unselfish humility of the plea; anyway, the giver's spirits rose under that shy smile like the mercury when placed in the Bun./ * , . Mrs Jardine at once referred to the subject uppermost in all their xnincfo,, asking various questions about the routed the time, distance, the number of men ia the escort, etc. t ,: John Harris enlarged on the pleasures of such a journey, and the tried bravery of hit band of miners. / . _ „ , • ■-•.r. r •/.If I could resolve, to run the risk rife would .otherwise be a, fine opportunity, for me- to ■ reach my, nephew/ she saicl* musingly, after rail was, told, , "If it yt&cm myself only I should-not hesitate. r But ih,#

*Mldrea! Think, If Any h»n» should oomo p to my daughter, let alone Anatole." « °I thould dearly lore to go, 1 tl Citied the boy. "I would hare * pair of ■< *e*olver», Aunt Julietta, and a swift horw. 1< J" am not afraid of thoApaohes, I will take h There was a little laugh at this which " made him hang hit head. "Bravely ipoken," said John. "leleot • you my aide-de-camp." * •«Anil what do you think of it, MiM JardiaeV for she had been silent daring t the discussion. - «*1 should like to return to the ranch. 3 have never been at home in the city. Mamma keeps me so close. But there we had such romps -'Tole and I. Wo lived 3 *>utrof«doora." |j «' But are you not afraid of the journey?" " "I don't think I should be very much < afraid where you and Mr Harria w»e." c And then, after raising the hopes of the t gentlemen, and getting the young people | excited to the highest pitch of expectation, 1 Mrs Jardine suddenly decided tnat she 1 would not go. Having come to that de- 1 termination it was vain to aeek to change ' it "Think what Seba^tain would say if his son should come to harm through my rash adventure. No ! I was wrong to discuss it. 1 will not go." The gentlemen could not deny but that it was rash, for the ladies, at least, to join the expedition; yet they were disappointed. 3M»e romance faded out of the prospective trip ; everything wore a dull aspect, as it -will, after such a disappointment ; both wore gloomy faces as they said good-night And passed out on to the street. " I've a mind to persuade Miss Jardine to marry me and run away,' grumbled Harria. •« And I to persuade the boy to run away, added Oscar. **If she loved me well enough to have me, I'd do it," continued John, savagely. It had been a warm, close night when they went in ; when they came out a chilly fog had wrapped the city in a ghostly shroud. The street-lamps glimmered faintly through their thick veils. Twice or thrice Romeyn thought he heard light footsteps tracking them, and turned to see if they were followed. Once lie saw dimly the outline of a figure a few paces in the rear, but the streets were by no means deserted, so that he waa not certain the man was pursuing them. As they stood a moment at a street-croaeing the person came up and touched Romeyn on the Bleeve ( causing him to look around : " Elee !" he exclaimed, in astonishment ** How daro you ? I thought you had left the city aa you promised," "Elee did go 'way. He come back; inns' see you, Mistee Lomeyn. Elee feel so Telia much bad 'bout Master Sebastian." "H» .» corry, are you ? You impudent scoundrel, to face me, to tell me of it !" «« No, not sorree. You ask him. He tell you Elee his bestee fiend. I keep watch all cc time, nighc and day. Nobodee to watch now, Elee gone, boy die, makee vella sure." •' "What do you mean V There wa3 something in the servant's face wnich impressed both men with the feeling that he was speaking the truth. ** You go askee Alenaeda man who bought poison, then ycu know all 'bout Elee means." No sooner had the Chinaman said thia than he darted back into the fog whose sheltering folds hid his course from his pursuers. After running a fo\v rod?, and looking vaguely up and down through the mist, the two gentlemen realised that it was vain to attempt to arrest hi 3 flight. Amazed by thia unexpected apparition, and at what had been said, they stared doubtfully into each other's eyee, and then walked Blowly on to their hotel, pondering on the meaning of the dubious message which had been given them.

LISBON PLACE AGAIX For eight years this once beautiful place Bad lain neglected, increasing the ruin which had been brought upon it by the Spanish soldiery on the night of that terrible raid in the very beginning of the Cuban revolution, Although so far removed from the principal city of the island, it waß early doomed ; and therefore, its remoteness was one reason of its lying so long out of market. In the dreadful condition of war which existed, no one cared to purchase and revive an estate which might be re-destroyed by the roving fond of guerrillas who discovered that it •was again worth plundering. It lay in a mountainous district, difficult to protect, whether owned by citiz9n or insurgent. - Mrs Jardine, during the first years following her flight to Mexico, had written urgently, at various times, to her bankers, to dispose of her plantations at almost any sacrifice, and forward the money thus obtained to her. But they could not effect a sale on any terms, and finally ceased trying. At length, after eight years, a gentleman came from the United States, who Wished to go on a plantation for his health, as Mr Jardine had oaca done. Having business relations with Ferraro Brothers, lie mentioned the matter to them. They at once told him of Widow Jardine's property, which ehe had abandoned on account of the danger of residing, unprotected, in that remote district. They stated that the land was unequalled for the production of coffee, but that it had gone utterly wild, while the villa and outbuildings having be6n partially destroyed by fire at the time of the raid, hnd never been xepaired, but allowed to go to ruin. They were ready to offer the whole estate at an extremely low figure, if the gentleman *wus willing to assume the risk of baying. He answered, that being a citizen of the "United States— which government had remsted. all the appeals of the insurgents to recognise them — he should rely upon the Spanish authorities for protection ; and that If he was not protected in the peacable protection of his property.he should appeal to Ills own government to interfere. He was willing to undertake to live in Cuba, and the bankers might write, if they s&w proper, to the general in command, of the purchase which bad been made, its object, and his expectation of being "let •lone." This was done-, and the papers signed which completed the purchase. " Befog connected with the main characters of our story only by an accident— importAnt in its results to them, but only slightly affecting him—he U not necessary to bring prominently into the narrative. Hia name, was ' Sterling ; -he was a widower, , who brought with him a grown-up son,' leaving 'behind him two daughters to be educated In the United States. He was one of those nervous, restless men who, having passed a "life of intense business excitement, now 'that bis health had failed, could not think of retiring to his room arid giving up'asatf in-, ralid. He most have something to occupy •lite. A planUtieninraras wan -bettor for him than a plantation in the highest state -of production. When after a journey <?f • day and a half— the latter half-day being

passed U going OTW eight, or ton mfl<* of rodgh hilly roaS^heanothfswm arrived at the MUtM whioh ha had purchased without seeing, he jumped from- the vehiole, and. looking about him Id all directions,* rubbed his hands with dellghtT " ? '• '*-AJ u. . "Beautiful! splendid!" he exclaimed; " this suits ma to a T." . . . ... The "beautiful" he applied to the' land' scape, the "qplendid" to the dilapidated buildings and negteoted fields. ' '' "This will be 'just the kind of -work to build me up 1 George, I&el that I shall get well here— l am better already." " Glad to hear it, father," dryly. " Plenty to do certainly. 1 * AnS the two went at it to do it The young man united to his father's nervous energy the strength aud health of youth. They managed to inspire even the indolent coloured people, who had their little patches of melons and sweet potatoes here and there on the land, with a bit of their activity. Mr Sterling had brought with him from Havana an overseer highly reoommended by Ferraro Brothers. Gangs of labourers were soon organised, and order very gradually eliminated from* ohaoa. Two or three of the lower rooms of the villa, it was found, could be made habitable with very little trouble. " Enough for our purposes for the present," remarked Mr Sterling. "Before the girls are out of school we will reconstruct the whole buUding. I declare, it seems a pity to touch it, George I It's too picturesque a ruin to be spoiled by being made over/ In truth it was lovely with the wild beauty of nature run riot. Rosob and honeysuckles waved in and out the empty windows trom which all *race of glass or sash had disappeared. Birds fluttered in and out the chambers, the most of which were open to the sky. Grass struggled with flowers for mastery in the garden beds —a wild profusion of both. Tho unpruned shrubs were lavish of their sweets ; the neglected fruit trees still did their best to to bring to perfection their too-abundant supplies. The walls of the dwelling, being of atone carefully cut and laid, were but little injured ; the front portico, scorohed by the flames, and now rotting from the dampness of vines which overran^ had escaped deatruc - tion, though it stood badly in need of repairs ; the principal staircase was gone, but some one on his plundering errands had placed a ladder where the Btairs once Btood, so that it was possible for au agile man to unount and to get about through some of the upper rooms. In Home the floors and timbers were completely burnt out. Not a scrap of carpet, matting, or bedding remained, nor any furniture, except an unwieldy mahogany bookcase surmounting a still more unwieldy desk, of which the locks were broken and the drawers scattered. The books, aleo, had been carried off. The gentlemen had brought with them on their arrival a couple of carts loaded with furniture and provisions, and, calling in some of tho negreases living in huts about the place, soon had the two best rooms cleaned, some matting laid down, a couple of beds put up, and other arrangements made necessary to living in the informal style which they proposed. There was no gla9s in the Venetian windows, but until the rainy Beason came on that did not matter. They had curtains of jasmine and roeea quite fine enough for them. One thing, however, was indispensable —to provide themselves with a cook. Before sending back to Havana they made inquiries among the negroes. The moat of these were plantation hands, utterly unfit for house service. Such of the trained servants as had escaped at the time of the raid had made their wav, in the course^ of time, to the town, where they could find employment. After cooking for themselves a week or two, the gentlemen thought they would make auother effort to find assistance among their own people. Eutering a cabin, from which cime forth an nppet sing odcuc of chicken and hot corn-cake, they found a fat Depress, very good- latured, and perhaps able to do some plain cooking ; but the excess of dirt on her garments and person nullified her other good qualities. "TeU you wot 'tis, gemmnn, dar's Glora. 'Specs she wouldn' come ; but ef you could persuade her, she'd soot perzactly." " Who's Glora?" *' Laws, don' you know Glora ?" •• We have not yet made her acqu quittance." " Woll, she's Sam's wife." " Who's Sam ?" " Sam ? Laws, don' you know ? He's Glora's husband." "Where do they live? Where can we find them ? " Woll, I declar ! But, then, sure 'nuff, you'se strangers. Come 'long* I'll show you dey'se place in no time." She set her fried chicken off the coalß and trudged across a field toward a little grove of orange trees on the other side. "Dey'a quality niggers,' aha explained, as she went along. " Don' 'sociato wid field-hands, 'lees we sick, den dey mighty good. All de folks like 3 Glora. She awful knowin' — knows more'n de priest any day. You see she was miasa's waitin'-girl 'afore missa was killed, an* ehe was teached to read, an' write, an' sew beautiful. She was mos' like a lady herself, Glora was, only mulatters can't never bo genewiae ladies, no matter how clus' they comes to it. You know ehe was nigh killed dat night missa was— shot in der aho'der." "No. Who, Glora?" " Law?, didn' you know dat ? She waßn' I married den. 'Twas long, long time 'fore she discovered dat wound. Den she mos' griebed herself to deaf 'cause mis3a was killed ' " But the lady was not killed, as I understand it," said Mr Sterling, recalling the fact of the bankers having had power of attorney from the lady herself to sell the estate. * Ob, my i yiy, she was. . Shot right down, an' her body consumed in the flames ! Oh, dat wa3 a tumble night ! Often an' often I wake up holloriri, in my Bleep. I can't ecet ober it, neber," and the fat negress ceased wabbling a moment to groan and wipe her face. , Mr Sterling, who had talked considerably with Ferraro Brothers about the tragedy which had desolated Lisbon Place, the death of Mra Jardine's companion, and concluded that the necrress had become befogged in the recollection of events. Nothing more was said at the time, as just then they oame in sight of a tasteful little cabin placed in the centre of the orango grove. Although built of the odda and ends which had been gathered from the ruins of larger buildings, it was neatly whitewashed, and completely covered with flowering vines. A grass-plot, surrounded it, and there was a thriving yegetable garden in tho rear. The whole aspect of the little -place was charming, especially when contrasted with the filthy huts of the field hands. , , ', 1, , , " Glora hain't nebber done no bard work," continued the negress, «a they ;> drew near .the open door. A* Sam's awful tender on her. You'ae t can : speaks wid her-^twon ? t hurt nobody'; an/i f you does make a derage--mohtwid her,, •twill be bootable to, both:" ; Here she turned^ and >wabbled fback, < with the remark "dat her. chicken .would' spile." The gentlemen approached the open door and looked in. J >:A H tyfr-wti hi't'ni'J'-z ' * Ai, handsome .mulattpi twoman< about twenty-six or seven years "old, who wai

aittinr tin the back door-»top •mbroidaring. a lin«n bnud.v rfrote »nd OurtiUd to t h«m, She wore * pink lawn dre*§ and. jnow-white-aproM, Botb fresh, *nd>eU-.ironed. ,; . ,i " Is thiß Glora?" ««Yes,iir. f -'„"' a " I wanted to have a little talk with you," said the elder gentleman. , „ , Sh<s handed a couple of home-made chairs, and Mr Sterling made known his errand. 11 You aeem bo comfortable here, I am afraid you won't like to come," he added, looking about the tidy room. " I wouldn't like to leave my house,' sir," she answered, respectfully. •' Sam is very happy here.' I try to make it oleasant, all the more because we have no children^ sir." " You need not leave your house entirely. A few hours a day will do our cooking, I am sure. We oan find some stouter woman to do the washing " '• Oh, Sam oan do that," she interrupted, smiling ; " he does ours." "You must have him well broken in,' laughed Mr Sterling. 11 It comes of my shoulder hurting me when I use the wash-board, sir. I cantfoo, foi I have the free übo of my right hand ; but when I need booth, then I don't git along right well." ** Can you cook ?" " I can cook as well as I oan fur Sam. I want nuthin' of a cook, fur I wos brought up to waitin' an aewin'j but after misaa was killed," lowering her voice, while an expression of deep sorrow clouded her face, I iound an ole cook-book trowed away by them soldeiee, that use to be misea'a. So I studied it, for 'musement like, 'fore I was able to work much, an' I learned a good bit out o* that.'* " I daresay, quite enough to satisfy us. If you will come to us, you can go home every day, after two o'clock dinner, by setting something cold on the table for supper, before you leave. I think we shall get along nicely, and I will give you liberal wages-" The pay which he offered was a great tempt it ion ; alsoGlora considered that their cabin was built on the gentleman's land, and that he had the power to take everything away from them if they offended him. She therefore'proraised to go to the villa the next morning and commence her duties, provided her husband was willing. This arrangement was consummated. Sam was almost as nice looking as his wife. He, too, had been one of the house-servants at the time of the raid, and had remained on the place out of the deep interest he took ! in Glora's case, while Bhe was slowly reI covering from her nearly fatal wound. An old stone kitchen in the rear of the main dwelling was cleared out and furnished with the necessary stores. When the first dinner had been served, in what was once the library— a delicious little meal, daintily cooked by Glora, and tidily waited upon by Bam —Mr Sterling was perfectly delighted. 44 We are fixed, George, to my complete satisfaction," Baid he. His vernacular was Yankee, and not always polished. " Jewels both of 'cm ! When we get the place in order, the girls ceme to visit ua, they'll be be surprised at our trained servants. Everything ia tip-top 1" So the gentlemen, well satisfied with their houeekeeping, turned their attention to more weighty matters out of-doors. The two servants were likewise pleased ; they had all the latter part of the day to themselves, doing the laundry work in their own cabin, and they received liberal pay, and some welcome presents of calico, thread, i handkerchiefs, and shoeß. I "That Gloia is a very interesting | woman," George remarked to his father. j " She has more mind than most of her race. There is an expression of profound sadness underlying all the brighter emotions which pass over her face. She thinks and feela profoundly. I don't wonder Sam's so proud of her." " She's smart as a steel trap," assented the more matter-of-fact parent. But it was not her smartness which so intorested George. He felt that Bhe had a teoret, and a sorrowful one ; and sometimes, when he had nothing else to do, he wondered what it was. One listless afternoon, while his father was indulging in his after-dinner Bieata, Gaorge took a fancy to explore the upper regions of their half-destroyed dwelling. Exchanging his boots for slippers, he j climbed ladder and crept through a large hole in the wall into a chamber, a portion of whose floor was still lying, while the other half bad tumbled into the chaos beneath. The broken timber shook beneath him, so that he was in constant danger of bringing the remainder of the floor down, bu the felt his way cautiously, looking about'for meanß to enter some of the other apartments. Other explorers hai been here before him. He found nothing of interest except a great stain upon the boards, as of blood, and — yea, farther on, between the boards and plastered ceiling underneath, a thin little book, something like an ordinary accountbook. He stopped and drew it forth from its long concealment. It did not seem to have been placed there, buttohavetieen dropped in the hurry of flight, and to have fallen there when other portions of the floor gave way. " Diary " was stamped in gilt letters on the flexible leather cover. "A reminiscence of the lady who waa driven out, or perhaps, of her more unfortunate companion, who was killed. If it belongs to this Mrs— Mrs Jardine, I believe the name is— l will forward it to her bankers," He was quite disappointed, upon turning the leave?, to find a blank. Not a word written in it from beginning to end. Nevertheless he took it down with him when he returned from his explorations, for he felt a sort of reverence for every relic of the tragic time which had desolated Lisbon Place. He thought he would preserve it as a memento to show his sisters when he saw them. "Here, Sam," h-a said, as that person came in the library to arrange the cold cupper before leaving ; "is there any fire on the kitchon hearth yet ? If there is, tell Glora to dry these leaves for me ; and let her take care not to scorch them." The little book was damp almost to mouldinese. " Yes, sir j- I'll see, sir." And Sam went off with the diary. George was reading a book of arctic voyages in order to cool himself, at least in imagination, and had forgotten all about the duty which he had required of Glora, when the sound of a footstep in his room caused him to look up, and the sight of Glora'j face caused him to lay his own book aside. She held the little diary in her hand ; a8 she stepped midway in the apartment she trembled .froth head to foot, md her face, usually a richbrown ; with a red tint* showing through in the cheeks, was grey and scared looking, her eyes T distended,her whole look that of aporsonwhbJaad been frightened and -who had not recovered from the agitation^ > : " y y .-.'•- ■** What is the matter?" '"', "Oh; Mister Geerge !" "Troopa f in sight?'! . . That w^s the" young ' gentleman's first thought. . ' "• r rn " v r^ '*' /' ' \ v ' " No, master/ 1 It's only about, this book.' « What about it, .Glora ;*" « l ' -^ "When Ihejd.itjfco\the coals, as you sent word, it came out All full o r writing." 1

eurio*tyy arouwd at jtfiqf. ; "Inj»Y» h M*d of such thingi Ipefore^gijcl.. , You need i^qt bo; frightened ; 4 »|^ s chomUtry, r „npli wjtcncraft. Let me see it. ' "joj o -<t<-< ■h.-hm 1 " It's all gone.! in agin; , , Too , will n*ye to come to; the- fire, iir, if yoa'U tak^ ■ the trouble." ■> <•, u -j . "Oh, vyeB, v ye8, I'd like to see, it,'', answered the young gentleman, whose mind ,w.as in that idle condition when amall matters intereated it. - , , > , < They vrent to the kitchen together. George took the, apparently blank book, and held a leaf of it to the coals, when the heat immediately brought , out , the,- small, cramped writing, with whioh it > was covered. ''„,. "It's the devil'b work/ said Glora, solemnly, "an tnatfa why it take^fire to bring it oat ! I always knowed that woman had aold herself to Satan, and she knew I knew it. That's why she tried to kill me." " Who— your mistress f " Blo3i your heart, no ! Mrs Header son." {To be Continued.)