UNKNOWN

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 324, 16 January 1909, Page 3

UNKNOWN

tattooed eye. blake brixcß a jirazex to book. A fortune of three millions sterlin;;, a handsome, popular, and accomplish!- I wife, a palace in Park Lane, a noble estate in Wiltshire—rarefy one would tllink that tile jnnn who could Unit of these possessions, at ihe coinparative--I,- earl}- age of foity-ifivc, had every reason to be happy and contented with 'lris lot. Vet it would be dillirult to ■imagine a more miserable-looking and dejected man than Raymond Fcatheistone, the well-known South African magnate, at the moment when Sexton Blake's landlady ushered him into the famous detective's sitting-room. • " Before I t*U yoi why I have come to consult yon," k» began, ■■ I want to ask you on» quation. I'm in one of the most WrriMa predicaments that ever a man was in, and 1 can't trust ray own judgment. I want your advice and help; but—but—— Well, this is the question I want to ask yon. It, 4,1 told you I was a murderer, would you be willing to help me, or would you"betray me to the police»" j Sexton Make stared at him in stupefied amazement. I

-,' "Of course I shouldn't betray you ; to the police," hesaid. "Any information I receive from my clients is as : sacred as the secrets of the Confessional. But whether I should be willing to help you is another matter." ' "In any case, you wouldn't reveal ; my information to the police?" ■'Certainly not." The millionaire heaved a sigh of relief, and, without any further beating about the bush, plunged into his story. • " Thanks to the newspapers and illus-

. trated magazines," he said, "you are i. doubtless acquainted with the broad ; facts ,of my so-called ' romantic career.'

■: You know that I went to South Africa, V' practically penniless, at the age cf • twenty-two, and that, after wooing fortune in vain for eleven years, I fin'ally 'struck oil,' as the saying is, and , : returned to England a millionaire in 1901. You also doubtless know that three years ago I married Lord Lmg- ~ dale's second daughter." ' Tlie detective nodded. 1 "So much, in common with the general public, I already knew," he said. | "Well, now," said Mr. Fcatherstone, "during those eleven years that I was living from ihand to mouth in South Africa, I met a young fellow, about the same age as myself, named Gledhill. It was in 1888, at a small mining-camp

:'" near 'Barkly West, that I mot him ' He bad come out from England twi years before, intent, like myself, 01 , peeking fortune at the diamond fields >. He whs a fine, stalwart, fresh-complex ibned fellow, and was known by tin nickname of Saowflake." . "Why!" asked Sexton Blake. .' > " Because he had a pearly-white patel in the centre of his left eye—the seal of some old injury, I suppose—whicl 'was supposed to resemble a snowflakc in size, shape, and colour. ' "As I have already told you," eon tinued the millionaire, "I made his ac quauitance at a small mining-camp nen Barkly West. Wc went into partnership, and one day, whilst we were work ing our claim—which was some distance from the camp—we had a quarrel. The matter about which we quarrelled is of no importance. It is enough to say that, enraged by something Snowflake 'said, I whipped out a revolver and shot him dead on the spot. ■ "As soon as I realised what I h»4 idone, my anger gave place to panic■tricken terror. Believing that nobody had witnessed my crime, I took to my neeh>, and never stopped running till I leached Barkly West, where I hired a Cape cart, and drove to Kimberley. i "From Kimberley I took the next train to Buluwayo. For two years ) lived, more or less in hiding, in Rhodesia; then I made my way to Johannesburg, where, as yon know, I laid tinfoundations .of my present fortun.\ Seven years ago, as you also know, 1 returned to England, and three years ago I married. ■ "During all these years," he continued, "I had never heard a word of suspicion that I had been responsible for Snowflake's death, or anything to lead me to believe that anyliody hail ■witnessed mV crime. About three months ago, however, my fancied security was rudely disturbed. ■ "list April my butler at Park Uuic fell ill, and was' taken to St. (ieorge's Hospital. .My wife and I were at our country house at the time; but when we came up to town, early in May, I went to the hospital to see the butler. In the bed next to my butler lay ft thin,' ebrivelled-looking man, whose complexion was of such a peculiar, dark brown hue that 1 took him to be 8 foreigner, probably from India or Japan. I observed that he watched ine narrowly whilst I was talking to my butler. and I also noticed that he averted hj.« face whenever I happened to glance in his direction. I thought nothing of this at the time, however, and, after a quarter of an hour's stay, I-returned to my house in Park Lane. > "Six weeks later—that is' to say, three inon(Jis ago-4 was surprised to teceive a visit from this brown-faced man. He said his name was Kdwaid Crawshaw. and in the bluntest possible fashion he explained that he had been In the neighbourhood of Barkly West fa 1888, and had seen me—actually seen toer-murder Snowflake. Without entering into details, I may add that he described what had happened on that fatal day so accurately and so minutely that it was impossible to doubt that he tad been, an eye-witness of my crime. r "He further explained that he lia-J left South Africa some, years ago, and had come -to London, where ultimately be had fallen ill, and had sought admission to St. George's Hospital. He said be had recognised ine as Snowflake's murderer the moment I had entered the Ward, and he had afterwards made inquiries, and found out where I lived. Then, as soon us he had been discharged from, the hospital, lie had made his way to Park-Lane." i "To demand blackmail as the price of hi» silence?" said Sexton Biakc. i "Of course. He was still very weak and ill, awl his terms were that he ehjjuld stav with me until be was well, an* that l" should then give him sufficient money to return to South Africa, 'and set up in business as a diamond 'broker." I " You.accepted his terms? > ''l had no choice. 1 kicked at the idea of his taking up his residence at iny house-, bHt he insisted- on it. and swore that he would denounce me to the police unless I agreed to his conditions in their entirety." , "So he is now living at your house m Park Lane?" i "Yes; and from the moment he came -to-live there, three months ago, I haie never known a moment's peace. 1 am nolonger master'in my own bouse. 1 e orders me about like a dog. and open v insults me before the servants, lie getdrunk twice a day with unfailing regit laritv; so that 1 hardly .hire to eave the house, lest, in a drunken ht, <« should blurt out my secret. I e ge. no better of his illiicw-in fact, 1 thiirt be crows worse—but be won t hear ol my sending for « doctor. He spend, most of bis time on the couch in t.K library, and " The millionaire broke down. "If it were only myself that had t suffer I could bear it." 'he continuel X*■> inteml. " But it is break in; »y. wife's heart. The blackguard talk; to bcr in a way that makes my bloohaven't told my wife the truth, but .sbi "ees that t .«». 1» Oanshaws po«e Ed, as.l said before, the strain r breaking her heart. "I can't stand it any longer/'he cm eluded,-in a broken voice. -No matte what happens to me, I must make a end of this for my wife's sake. That X I have come to «edc_your adv.w ■What do you advise me -.«■ ™J' 1 go to the police. m>„elf u, wdo vou think, «.£ V« ta * Crawshaw, you could induce him to.a cept a lump don't care ho. much—and go away?' „„,„,„,. . The detective hesitated for a «">">". before he replied. It was «f?» inst J to'ally himself »•» » confessed murderer, ye •« *» Mtbies were on the side of Ha>mo ' reatherstone. Moreover, there we several points in the, millionaire » sto, ■which piqued his curiosity. "I'd like to see Crawshaw befo advise you what to do," he said. »'», to his feet. "Your ear is uutsiu.,, see. Let us go lo Park Lane.

■ C«w^-«« reeling ""th'jnm i„ the library when Sexto,. Wakf ■> ■Mr. Featheretone arrive,, '!»''• f'™ p - 1 noon, he -was obviously thiei Kribea to Sexton Blake, a thin..siriv Uiui-looktag man, little more than sk. »nd honfs, and his face mA .peculiar bronze-brown hue, that *a«j jjta (he appearance of a mulatto, p-

features, however, were distinctly those of a pure-bred Englishman. lie looked up, resenttully and suspiciously, when .Mr. Featlierstoiic entered the. room with Sextoa Blake at his heels. "This is " began the millionaire; when Sexton Make gripped him almost fiercely by the wrist, and motioned him to sileuee. " I am a doctor," said Sexton Make to Craw.slmw. "Mr. KeatherMoiie ha.i told me how ill you are. and he lias lii'onghl me here to " llefore he could i-omplete the sememe Crawshaw broke, in with a torrent of foul oaths. !(<■ dida't want to see a doctor! die rcfiisul to sec a doctor! Afr, Kcathcrstonc had no right to bring a doctor to see him without his consent. And so on, and so forth. The detective smiled indulgently, and seated himself on a chair beside the couch, lie caught hold of Crawshaw's wrist in the approved professional fashion, peered into his lace, aail asked him to put out his tongue. Crawshaw's answer is uiipriutabK Pretending to he shocked, the detective rose to his feel. "1 am only wasting my time here,'' he said stiffly. "It's a pity you troubled to call me in. Cood-day!" He. picked up his hat and gloves,- and left the room. Mr. r'eatherstonc, utterly bewildered, followed him to the en-trance-hall. " What—what is the meaning of this':" he inquired. " Why did you pretend to bo a doctor?" " 1 didn't pretend," said Sexton Make. "I am a duly qualified man, although I have never practised as such." "But why—what " The millionaire made a gesture of complete mystification. .Sexton Blake smiled, and opened the door. l

"I'll explain my apparently eccentric conduct later," he said. "hi the meantime, I'm going to make a few inquiries. I'll come back later, and when 1 return 1 hope it will be to tell you that all your troubles are at an end." And, before the bewildered millionaire could question him further, he strode through the door, and walked rapidly away in the direction of St. George's Hospital.

It was growing (lark whea Scxtoa Blako returned to l'ark Lane, lie was accompanied by an inspector of the Metropolitan Mice, at the sight of whom Jlr. Feather.stone turned deathly jiale. "lie lias come to arrest me," he said. ''Arrest you?" said Sexton Blake. "What for?" "For the murder of Gledliill, of course." ■ ,' -i.-ji The inspector and the detective laughed. "t'ouie into the drawing-room," said Sexton Blake, "and I'll soon put you at your case." Like a man in a dream the millionaire led tiro way to the drawing-room. "Now, to ■begin at the beginning," said Sexton Blake, " I must tell you first that as soon as I saw Oawshaw I perceived that he was suffering from a Vcll-known, but somewhat rare, affection, known as Addison's disease. I may tell you that patients who suffer from this disease Jrrow thin and haggard, and their skin assumes a peculiar bronze-brown colour. "The next thing I observed," he continued, "was that C'rawshaw's left eye had been tattooed. Yon look surprised, but 1 assure you that tattooing of t"ne eye is a very common operation." "For what purpose?" asked Mr. Featlierstone. "To improve the patient's appearance, as a rule," said Sexton Make. "For instance, a man receives an injury to bis eyes which, when the wound is healed, results in a pearly-white scar. By tattooing the scar with Indian ink it is possible to obliterate it. and to make the white patch as black as the rest of the pupil. Of course, the operation has no effect on the patient's sight, but it removes a conspicuous disfigurement.

"Therefore." lie concluded, "as soon as [ perceived Hint Criiwsraiw's left eye had beeii tattooed. I knew that once upon a time he liad had a white sear in the centre of that eye." Mr. Feallicrstone started. "Do you mean to suggest " lie liefan. "I don't suggest —I know!" said Sexton Blake. "Crawshaw is (iledhill. ilias Snowllake. You didn't murder liim. Hi' recovered from the effects of four shot, and afterwards came to Kngand. Probably, in the meantime, he lad lost all trace of you; hut when he -ecognised you at St. George's Hospital, ind learned that yon were now a milionaire. the idea occurred to him—cnowing how completely his .personal ippcaiancc had altered—of blaekmailng vou hv pretending to have seen you nurller Gledhill." "But—hut Gledhill was a stalwart, resh-eoinplexionecl man." stammered he millionaire. "Crawshaw is a imvn if uitirely different hniM and apjiearince."

-Addison's disease." said Sexton i Make. "I K'.iessed the truth as soon ■ as I saw liim; lint, i" order to make sure. I went to St. (ieorjjc's Hospital, where I asked for information concerning a man wlto had 1/een in the hospital four and a half months ago, in the next lied to Mr. Kcatherstnne's butler, siill'e--injr from Addison's disease. "I was informed that the man I was iiii|iliriiijr about was an 'ex-eouvivl named Ciledhilt. 1 further aseortained, on in<|uiry. that he had a white war in tlie centre of his left eye when he was admitted, and that, on the day after you had been to the hospital, he asked the house-surgeon if there was any way in which this sear could be obliterated. The house-surgeon, it ap]>ea"s. told him it could be tattooed, and. at fJledh'il's request, the operation was performed a few days later. Five or sixafterwards lie left the hospital, and that was all they knew of him.

" Having ascertained that <!ledhill wis 111 ex-convict." continued Sexton Hhi'v, 'I communicated with Scotland Yiinl, ( ind afterwards wired to Dartmoor, where he had served his sentence. The result of my inquiries was this: " (rledhill was mixed up in a pimoJiiner affray in ISSII, in the course of which a gamekeeper was killed. He fled the country and went to South Africa. In IS93—five years after you thought you had murdered him—lie was recognised in Kimberley, was arrested, pxtraditcd, and brought hack to Kngland, where he was sentenced to twenty years' penal servitude. "Six months ago, whilst serving his sentence at Dartmoor, he developed symptoms of Addison's disease, in consequence of which he was released on ticket-of-lcave. Apparently he came to London and went to St. (leorge's Hospital, where he afterwards saw you, recognised you, and conceived the idea of blackmailing yon by pretending that he had seen you murder Snowllake. •■ So now von know." concluded Sexton Tilake. "why he averted his face when von were in the ward. He didn't wish von to see the sear on hi.-, left eye, lest you should recognise him. After vour departure he induced the doctors' to obliterate the scar, and then, feeling sure that you would never recognise him, he came here and spun the varn which vou have todl me." ' YVliilht the detective had been speakin", Mr. Keatherslone seemed to have crown voun'gev by ten years. AVith a happy smile, lie turned to the inspector. •• And whv are you here;" he asked. " Cledhill' was released on ticket-of-leave." said the inspector. "It was nis dutv to report himself and his present address to tiie authorities. Tie has neglected to do this for the last three months. In j'onsctpiciice of that ue.doct be has forfeited bis 1 i:U -t. and I have come to take him luck to prison. Of course, if von wish to prefer a charge of conspiracy'and blackmail against him I sluill be very glad to " ."*fo »io!" said Air. R'atlierslone. "Thanks to Sexton Blake, the nightmare that has haunted me for the last twenty years has been swept away, and Snowllake may go free " The inspector smiled. "Xot free," he said. "He has still five vears of his sentence to serve. May 1 trouble you to take me to him.'

Oledhill. alias Snmvflako, ofTero.l ;.o rrsistai.ee. He seemed, indeed, to have anticipated some slu -' h eniielusioi. '" hls liariii" srheme from tV first. _ - fino.l-bv'.'. Feathers, ol,| man! he .aid. as lHe inspertor led linn away. "I've had a liullv '»'»' I " ,| '<'> t)i"»(!» J tared all aim? it wouldn't last! And t.. think." he added, "that, an ..Hot Ikvon- 'i f"«l w,l » <,0 "' (1 ° l» , i ,n,>onz '' ' i,5 easily as this-lias made a fortune of Uiree liiillirnis'."

: , TOM ROWLEY'S LEGACY

'. Uy Kdgar Uynll, in l Tit-Bits. ~ "Halloa! Tom Jtowloy, vim luuk a I hit upset; what's the matte'i?" | "Oh, Iliat .von, Jim* Just 'ail' a I minute. Six o' the best brandv. plea.se. Miss." The obliging barai'aid of tin' llcrkshhc. I'ijf havimr produced the de.-ircd beverage. Mr. liowlcy disponed of it with, -i.i. thhij. resembling a sijr-1' '•'' siilUfaeliou. •So. Jim. I have lii-ch ;i lot np-ct. I wonder 'mv many fellers what 'a-; just, -pe.nl- liier liest part n' two hours persuiidiu' a woman to heiinuc is mother-in-law i.ui resist th,'i' temptation of a little nip o' lii'iiinlv ter pull 'ini ter--ether.' As Tom liowley vouchsafed tlii.s infornuitioii as to the cause of his disipiietnde a. shade of anviety passed ovef Jim Carey's faee, and. rising from, his seal, he joined Tom at the bar,l'ounter with -,i great show of friendii--m'ss iind commiseration, i "Mv Jove, old hoy. have you just .parsed through that ordeal 1 ; I pitv .you. 1 ilo indeed, while at the same time I adiuiiiK vooir pluek. Have another with me/' Tom Kowley having signified his ;u----ccplani'ce of the invitation, Carey eontinned the etmvers'alion. "And am I to congratulate von, dear boy?" " Well, in a nimnicr o' speakin', yes. Ver -ee. Jim, L ain't a liediittiteil feller .sa'me as you. You're a (.•omiucirci.il traveller an' goes 'about seeing' flier world, mi' can talk aliout things. I'm on'y a feller withse little grocer's shop up (i. sick 1 street, jui" although I'm doin' a gootl' trade l an' puttitt' money away, the side street seemed ter stick in me perspective nra-in-law's gizzard an' fairly choke 'er every time she spoke of it." "Ah, wants a doirblo-front shop with plntc-glass windows in a main thoroii'diI'llJe.'' "That's it, hookin' orders on credit an' no cash t-omin' in—[ knows 'em. Well, I've 'ml me little shop an' 'ouse repainted an' papered from top ter bottom, an' it looks a fair treat. I can Wll yer, Jim, it's been ther pride o' mu life ter picture my dear girl a-llittin' from room ter room, so ter speak, an' nuikiii' sunshine of a rainy day." " lly Jove! Tom, but you are geltin'g. puetie." "Ve.s, I wits full u' poetry until I went ter liiiitcirview 'er mother, an' thea 1 felt as if a eold jelly was travelling down me. spiivc." "Well, tell me ajl about it." "At first she was indignant, an' wouldn't 'listen fer a long time, an' them in ther course o' uw pleadin' I ?appenedl ter niention 'mv- much I'dgot put away, «.n' W math me shop was makin'. Then when 1 stopped she look a 'and, an' if any feller was ever turned inside- out I was that individool. I've alius lx-'en a straight feller aa' gone [lowest, even though I am it grocer, but this woman awuscd me of every crime under ther sun ait' did "or best ter make no admit me guilt." " Ah, a bit of a terror, is she 1" " You may say thflt, .lint. Well, when die fouiml' that wus no use she sheereit irf on another lack, an' 'began ter talk, if 'otv much xt dorter would 'ave when ihe wus laid ter re-t with 'er diseased usban'." "Ah, a-nd was it much? 1 ' "Hatter o'live or six thousan', so fails 1 could judgp. but their she lliiniuoxed me by arskin' if 1 -ad' any exlectations. I didn't, know what she, iiesint at first, hut it appears she wus ryitr ter get at 'whether f 'ail any rich elatioiis as vmn likely ter leave nie any

money in their wills." ' : "And what did yon toll her?" " [ coukl uu'y think »' inic rich relative, an' that was uncle .Icrry, what lives iu Australia, an* then ,hc up-, an' says as all young fellers as wants ter tuaiiry heiresses says they've got rich uncles soinewhores nut abroad." " Hut is he likclv In leave von anv- I tiling?" ' | "(loudness knows! I've never seen liiui in my life, ami I don't suppose °c ' knows o' my existence." ; "Hut I understand von came out sue- 1 i-essfnt a't tin- finish!" 1 "Well, yes: I'm on what yer might ?all approbation, so ter speak. She re- .; [•(■ guises the engagement on condition i that nulliin' ■<>' a 'i>rril>lc ■nature crops 11 up in 'er impiiries about me past and Llir.it she discovers notliin' underhand I ibout me future." 1 "And wheu is the wedding to be?" ] •'Ah. she won't 'eaj- o' that until 1 I've saved another live hundred pounds; ( it'll take a bit o' doin', but I'll manage 1 it some'ow. Ver sec. she's got rather ippish notions, bein' ther widow of a retired pork butcher. 1 ' •'Retired p»rk-bu teller? Why, you *; lon't mean' to say that you have been i irtervicwing ill's. (!rey»'' > "lllit 1 do: didn't 1 mention it '!" t " Anil—and you are going to marry \ Mollie?" ' I " ICxactlv. I am goin' ter marrv ' \lollic Airs, toy's daugli'cr. Hut yer ••cent surprised; I thought yer knew as | ive nil- sweet on one another." t "Well. I—l've seen you about there , i lot. certainly, but I didn't know you ( neant business. I—er—l congratulate . ton. itr.it boy—congratulate you.'' V "Tlianks, .iim. thanks: I knew you'd | ii- pleased. Well, I must go now'; it's | lime my shop was shut up. and my I is-istant'll be gettin' anxious." With the departure of Tom .liowley Mr. Carey culUipscd in a most extra- . irdinary nianncr. Sinking down on the • ettcc iie mopped his streaming brow . mil gave vent to a groan that was dis- ■.. lin'ctly audible all over the bar. and j .•iiusi'il many to glsiuee at him with ill- i terest and coiniuiseration. ' "To think that 1 have been cut out -, l>v a connlcr-jumpcr grocer." lie rcllcct- \ •c'l—"a man who spends his clays weigh- , iiu» half-ounces of tea and half-pounds i :if'sugar. tHi. what a fool I've been to. | let such a prize slip through my lillgcis i —a cool -ix thousand pounds if it's a i penny ! Hut who'd have thought that i he w'as inakiu'g the running, and that i slv minx Mollie. when 1 used to make : flin of liim, she'd laugh till she nearly ■ricd. And—and now it's come to this: the grocer fellow wins in a eanter and Tun left at the post.'' The more .liniiuy Carey thought about ibis humiliating position the more despondent he became, until at last, Inconstant brooding, he fully persuaded .himself that he was a very ill-used fellow indeed, and it would only Iw a matter of just retribution if Tom liowley ,w.as made to smart for his temerity and presumption. [ Having once switched h's mind on lo the idea of revenge he proceeded to cast aliout for ways and means by which lie could accomplish his fell purpose, and after considerable cogitation a gleam of satisfaction crept into bis eyes, and he almost shouted with exultation, i " I've got you, Tom liowley : I've got yon in a cleft stick. You'll niarry Mollie J! rev and her thousands, will you ! Not if .liiu Carey knows it. (lot a rich uncle Miaiiwd—-Temy Kowley out in Australia, have you ? Then I'll use luclc .Icrry to put a' spoke in vonr wheel. You're enpaged to Mollie until Mrs they liuds .sonicthin" underhand about you, are .vou ■'. Well I'll soon put her on that 'track, and then. Tom liowley. you can wiv good-bvc lo vour -weetheart, and .yo'ur'verv humble servant will not stand .still long enough lo let the grass grow Hinder his feet." . M; dim Carey spent a very considerable portion that 'night in preparing what he called his " plans for smashing the enemy," and early on the following .morning In- made his way lo a certain public-house in the city, winch he knew j was the habitual haunt of. a certain I Jiroken-down lawyer who rejoiced in the t-oiuewliat nn'Usiial or uncommon coguo.liifii of Zeb Hunker. i In his expectation* of Undine Mr Hiin■ker at that- eaalv hour of the morning |eiii'u Ouov uas'not disappointed, nor was he in auv way surprised when Mr ,I'iinkcr expressed his williness to talk business, provided that the conversation was punctuated liv what he cnginialicai- ! .|y designated "Three of the same. r'u'ilie end of the third tumbler Air iiHunker looked doubtcdly at the bottom L hi, empty t'lass and shook his head .mysteriously. i '" Mr Carey. sir, let me ,cc if I've got I, this right. Young man, name of Thomas j liowley, got rich uncle. Jeremiah Kow- ' ley. out in Australia. You want me to ! advertise for said Thomas liowley and ' lead him to believe that his uncle is de- | lunct and ha, left h-'wu a lot of money." "That's it : you've got it." I --Hold Irani, now. What's your name? Where do vou come in V I -After a lot of investigaiioiH yon Lilfappoint a meeting with Kowley. I '.will arrange lo be present, and fix it up ■that' MollTe and her mother are there , too." . -Hut I don't see " |' "(if cmir.se you don't, but I do. You I .'will s-iv thai.'thereV no money at all, Laud I will denounce you both and say it's a pul .up job between you and Howley t„ trick Mrs drey iulci'thinking that ■ he's conic into moi,ey, >i> that theieea-.i I lie no bar to their immediate marriage,' 1 j I " Ah, I see, a'"- you " i " ff T know Airs f.'rey she will he very indignant, and Tom Howley's chance of ■marrying Mollie will *>e snuffed out,"

• " And then you " ' " Never'mind- me. Will you do it ?"' " Hew much '<" " Fiver now and liver after." • " Well, it's this way, Mv Carey, I've just mixed myself up in a hit of business lli.it renders publicity a little undesirable at the present moment, but if you wouldn't mind me employing a friend -" 1 " I don't mind how vou can-,- it ,u !m» is you don't fail." "'I hi n MMi-hlir it done, Mr. Carey, au-.l pul ail thought* of failure out of your miiul."

After in.ire IMi.uiiins to the success ot their nefarious scheme. Jim Carey left his fi'ilow-coiispirator and went on his way with his morning's work. Regardless of the undercurrents which hail been set in motion to sap his happiness. To.ni Rowley went about his 'daily work with his heart healing a 'tunc of joy, for was not .Molly his promised .wife, and what could nun want inure'/ Some, ten days later, however, Tom Rowley experienced a shock—it was a .pleasant shock cerlninlv, but it was there. i Opening his newspaper one morning, 'his eves vested on the following:—"Rowley, '.leremkih, deceased.-Wn'iilod. information regarding the next-of-kin of the late Jeremiah Rowley, of Sydney, Australia. Anyone supplying information as to the present addresses of Thomas Itowlev. .lames Rowley, or John Rowley, -nephews of deceased, will be .suitably rewarded.—Hanson iliul Make, Fox Court, Poultry, E.C' ■■ "Well. I'm-I'm Mowed," commented ■Tom; "there ain't no mistake 'bout that. Me uncle in Australia was named deny, an' Jim an' John is me two ■brothers. I'll take a 'oliday an' 'tint •'cm up an' we can go tee Hanson and 'Blake teegether." Mr. Jim Carey, ensconced in his favourite comer of the Berkshire Pig, was not surprised that evening when Tom 'Rowley made one of his unaccustomed .visits to that famous hostelry. Carey had seen the advertisement, and mentally congratulated Zeb Bunker upon the •way he had carried out the idea.

i "Halloa! liowley, my boy, still smiling willi happiness'!" i " Yes, ,11111, mul ! think I've every cause to. I've 'art ther most extraordinary news ter-day." : "Oh, anil what's that'! Someone left yon a fortune?" ' " Well, it seems like a fortune ter me; my Australian uncle has died an' left me an' me two brothers two thousand pounds I'iudi." i "By (.'corgc ! Tom, you are ia luck; I congratulate you, my boy." ■ "Thanks, Jim. 1 thought you'd lik-; ter 'our the. news. Me two brothers are out of town, so they don't know of their luck yet." - All, and what does .Mrs. Grey say about it:" " Most extraordinary woman, that, Jim. She thinks lim deceiving 'er for the sake of getting 'er consent to an early marriage with Mollic an' Mrs lirey. I'd take it kindly if yur'd be me best man on me weddin'-dny." i " Thanks, dear boy; with the greatest pleasure." "Ah. that's good of yer Jim ; thank yer. Xow, when me legacy is all ready I'll get ther lawyer chap ter meet me at .Mrs (irey's house an' 'and it over m ther presence of you, Mrs Crcy, an' Mollic." "flight. And then we call arrange the details of the wedding afterwards. Don't forget to let me know." "Xo fear o' that Jim. It'll be a a)>]>)' day fer me. since Mrs. Grey carn't refuse 'er consent when she sees the mouev." i -■' When she sees the money, oil!*' sneered Jim Carey, when Tom had taken his departure; "a f«t lot of money she'll see, or volt either." Day after day passed without anything furl her taking place, and after three weeks had sped a-way Carey began to get impatient, and contemplated paying' il visit to Zeli Hunker for the purpose of hurrying him up. The course was, however, rendered unnecessary by a note from liowley: "Meet me 7.1K1 to-morrow night ill Mi's. (Irey's. The lawver will be there." Jim Cm rev smiled grimly to binis-ill as lie read'this epistle; the time had arrived when his plans were about to fructify. V-poii the next evening, when he kept the appointment at Mrs. (irey's house, he found quite a joyful parly. Tom Rowlev was basking in the smiles of Ins beloved, Mollic. and even the stern Mrs. lirev unbent somewhat to fling a faint dicker of a smile upon the group. The lawyer had not arrived. As twenty mhiutes passed, and lie still failed to put in an appearance. Mrs. (irey negan to snilV ominously. " Vour'inan does nut seem to turn up with Hint money, liowley. I may say that I've had my suspicions of this all iilong." •• Why you don't mean " began torn. , , •• lint I do «ie,ra. Rowley. You invite this precious lawyer here In hand you Lwo thousand pßu'nds. lie has not turn-i-d up, and it looks very fishy. W bat to von think. Mr. Carey';'' ••'Well. I nin-t say that I have never rpiite believed in this legacy all aloi!?. but I'm willing to be convinced. If this lawver turns up I am quite prepared to iiear him say that there lias been, some delay, or lie's made a mistake.'' ••Jim I'-.ircy. you- you don't mean if!" gasped Tom. •• 1 do mean il. Tom liowley. i may sav (hat v<m have been seen—anil 1 was told this on good authority—talking i» a lawyer of very bad repute: and if Ibis man or one of ids minions cmucs here to-night with any tale of delay or mistake I shall feel it inv d illy to charge both vim and him with conspiracy." " Conspiracy'!" I "Yes; conspiring to obtain the alT'-e----'lions of a coiiliiling young lady by ifrauduleut representations, and conspiring to rob so sweet a lady as Mis. Urey of the companionship of her loving daughter." " You—you infamous " "Stop!'there is someone at the door; t is. I think, your accomplice. Xow for his excuses of*delay and mistakes." The door opened and a clean-shaven young man entered and bowed deferentially, iipon the groun. i "I am sorry, ladies and gentlemen. but there lias been some delay " "ila! What did 1 tell you'!" ; "I made a mistake " . "I knew it! 1 knew it! Impostors! Impostors, all of you!" shouted Carey. I "Pardon me. but Ido not understand,' .remarked the lawyer. 1 "Oh, vou will understand quickly eiiou-h. when I explain. Mrs. drey, you have been cruelly deceived; this Tom Kowlcy's uncle did not die. and did not leave 'him any money. The advertisement was a put-up job between liowley and' a rascally lawyer named Zeli Hunker in older to obtain your consent to nu uirlv marriage between tins villa:-, and v»ur daughter." "Just one moment, sir. Ilu.v long have vou known UiisV '••Oil; from the very lirst, when the advertisement appeared." :> "And yet, with this knowledge you have kept silent'!" ••I „nlv had my suspicions conlinn.d 10-dav. I saw /.eli Hunker, and wrung the truth out of him." ••Vou saw Zeh ISunker'.' Where'! "In the City."

' "Sir, I do'not know wiho yon nr.'. ■but if I tell vim Unit yuu are ■ilcliliiTiili' falsehoods I .mi niaki.i;,- but ~ mild statement ol' facts. /.I'll Hunker ■«as swill- ui-i-k- ago sentenced to six months' im|irisiimiu'iit for fraud, mill la now in jail.'' ■• Hut 'what's all (hi* about?" asked <"'-l don't exactly U"»-- -Mi'- l!»«'h'.>', but if, as I suspect, this man has conspired with Bunker to apprise yuu of a falsi- lotficv with tin- object of oxtort■in« monev. i should ailvi>e you to take 'iiniucdiate stops to bring him to .justice." ••(Hi, I'm too happy lo bother 'hunt anythin' like that. bet 'ini go, tin' we'll get to business." " Vi's. young man.'' put in -Mi's, llroy, \ " you »ini. iii here and ln-«iin to talk about delay and mistakes; if you've got tlm money, pmducc. it." '' "I mei-elv wished to remark, maiki.i, that there'had boon « delay in my arrival in ewisoipu'iico of mv mistaking the train. The 'money is hero, -Mr. Howley, if vou will be good enough lo count ■llint." ' i As tin 1 lawyer handed Rowley a 'bundle of notes, ./(in Carey took ad'vantage of the incident to make a mas'terlv retreat. '•Correct, Mr. liowley';" '•ijnitc correct, thank you.'' '•XIV dear, dour son-in-law that is '.o bo!'' exclaimed Xlrs. tiroy, throwing luT 'anus round Tom's nook. ••Allow me," said Tom to the lawyer, "to introduce me (iaiK'i'O, XJiss Xlollie tirev." . " All. now T eiin unilorstand the cause of vouv happiness. Mailain, I w'Wli you eve'iv joy; ami as for you. Mr. liowley, '1 hope that in future years you will look back upon this evening and realise Hint vou have won something far move precious than cmilil peer lie represented ty Uie most; substantial legacy."

MAINLY ABOUT PEOPLE.

TVUAXT AXD VICTIM. There is something strangely impressive in the death at the same time ot the Empress Dowager and the Emperor j of China; it is the tyrant and the vic"iini disappearing together—-as if her i work was completed when he at last 'was no more; or perhaps as if there came in the end some revelation to her of the hideous part she had played in the poor creature's life. There is a Certain irony in the statement that the death of the terrible woman was accelerated by grief at the death of her nephew., which, if true, would point to that late awakening of remorse of which ■I have spoken. Hut then one never knows whether this acocunt of her illness, or anything else iibout her, is true. Thick darkness still encompasses the mysterious city in which dwell the rulers of the Chinese Empire, and oliieial accounts are not to be trusted, they bay what they think it is likely the public would like to have said.

THE TERRORS OF HOYAETY. 1 have thought for years that in the 'distribution of unluippiness in this world, Royalty get not only their fair, but more than their fair, share. If you have any doubt of this, think of that poor little Tsar, tortured by the dread of assassination every hour of his existence; when he gets up, when lie goes to bed, when he dines, when he is speaking In u deputation, when he is exchanging words in the heart of his own big palace wilh his wife or his children. 11l- think of even the sadder figure, that ►if his poor wife, wlio, after bearing Nicr Calvary for years, has at last completely broken down, and is a poor | liiervons wreck—weeping without apparent cause, shivering «t shadows; menaced with consumption; ordered to 'leave for the sunny skies of some i-ioulhern city, and yet unable to leave 'because she will not desert the poor 'haunted husband, terror for whom has "been the. chief cause of her own breakdown. Or if you extend your thought to other countries beside Russia, think 'of that young monarch of-Spain, who •is also pursued constantly by the as•sassiii; think of his young wife, whose 'wedding-dress was stained by the blood W the poor wretches killed] by the, Minrchist bomb. And is he much happier—that proud, scornful, self-confident ■impulsive man in whose ears at this nio'melit there are ringing the tempests of rage, remonstrance, and even menaces that are issuing from the lips of Germans, alarmed at last by the spectre kjf the terrors that threaten a nation Subject to the caprices and impulses of ■one man?

'A I'tTIFC'L CONTRAST. Bad, however, as is tlio lot of Euro'peaii sovereigns, it is, of course, not tio Imd as that of the Eastern rulers. Of these Oriental rulers, the most hnp'less up to the present is the Grand Lama of Thibet—that poor little wretch oliosvn. when an infant, approached with false, and hypocritical worship, and doomed to dm whenever he approaches the age when his will might interfere ■with that of the courtier and priest 'who has created him. .Next to him in iwretehedness comes, of course, the Emiperor of China. In liis case, as in that of the Grand Lama, there is the pitiful contrast between the reality of the position and the professions liy which it is surrounded. The Chinese Emperor U ulliciallv written and spoken of as if •he were the child of <iod and of Heaven; 'when he dies, he does not pass from life like an ordinary mortal, hut is represented as carried cm a dragon's lack to the skies which are his home; minister*, when the.V approach him, have to •remain kneeling—in short, he is treated more as a deity than as a max And, kit the same time, there is probably 'no more abject and cowering slave in the four hundred luiHions of people who 'are. crushed together in the cities and Villages of his vast dominions.

'IN LEADING STRING*. ' Created Emperor by the -masterful 'and terrible woman who so curiously Vlicd at the same moment as he—the 'Dowager Enrprtss—lie was always kept liy her ill leading strings. Once he tried 'to assert himseFf. and he appointed to some ollices the men who are trying to ■reform China, and put some new wine 'into the old bottles: but he was soon 'pulled up. the reformers Ki'rc either ■executed or lied, and he became more of ■a prisoner and lie became more of-a ■prisoner and a slave than ever. A pour, ■puny, delicate little creature from his 'birth, he was doubtless so trained a* 'to develop the seeds of decay, moral •and physical, in his system. When he 'was still a boy, be was married to a ■wife chosen also by the masterful woman who had brought him to the throne. There is something ironic in •the statement) that this poor puny •trembling weakling had, in addition, 'twenty-seven wives of the second rank and eighty-one of the third.

'A MAX OF MYSTERY. !<>«• people have ever seen him. The 'tradition, still prevails that an Em'peror's face shall be hidden from the majority of men. lie lias to make peri'odical visits to the temples, as the 'Sultan has to go weekly to the mosque, ■and -elaborate, precautions arc taken to ■drive everybody away from the route 'over which he'has to pass; the roads ■are cleared, heavy hangings drape the •fronts of the bouses, the ground is 'covered with yellow sand, and every'thing is arranged so as to free (he Softy personage from 'anything that might oll'end his eyes; and, as it is put 'bv'.Mr. Valentbie L'liirrol, who knows •till! East so well: '•Through the desertvd thoroughfares the Son of Heaven ■Hits, generally in the stillness of the might like. a. ghost borne on a lofty •palampiiu."

■TWO l'l'.X PORTRAITS. > Two descriptions have been written of tin' appearance of (he Emperor—one ibv''Mr. t'hirrul anil one l>,v a Herman, ifhev agree singularly in the impression llhey convoy of helplessness, all the (sadness ami vacuity uf u shrunken and 'broken being, deaii already while pretending to be alive. .Here is the picture Hrawn. by Hie English writer: I The luniporor appears to lie a sickly youth with :i melancholy, hut not unattractive, countenance. given to violent iits of passion which he gratiiios I in a relatively .harmless way by smashI iug his furniture. 11l the self-imposed seclusion of his palace, within whose precincts only women and eunuchs are allowed to dwell, he holds no communication with the outside world except through the high Stale ulllciills, who approach on bended knee to present reports on public a/l'airs in ' which the necessities of truth are largely subordinated to the considerations of •courtly expediency. ■The German's portrait is identical: lie looked older than he really was, and a sorrowful, weary, and rather childish smile played about his mouth, wrote the <lcrman -Minister at Pekin of the Emperor. "His lace was not entirely wanting in sympathy, but rather betokened •iiiililVerciiee, and from its features nothing of interest could be read: in fact, the Emperor impressed me a s being self-restvained, cold, apathetic, wanting in capacity, ■ worn out. and as though half dead. 1 felt that whatever passed before his • eyes had not Hie .slightest interest fiir him. and that it mattered 'not in the least to liim whether he understood the meaning of our interview. In short, a nun who wore a look as I if life were a liurdcn to him.''

TOPSV-TritVY. '. Everything is topsy-turvy in China '•according to our idea's. The Emperor '■rose at two o'clock in the morning; 'soon after he was closeted with his "ministers: if he had a theatrical performance, It, was before noon; like everybody else in that country of fierce labour, he was probably very much overworked for his puny frame; and now. while still a youngster, he has passed away; and, I dare say, was not sorry •to do so. As to the. Empress, one has to go to the pages of (iilihun or the "Arabian Sights'" to hml her likeness, either in career or character. Horn of pcpple so : poor as to be almost beggars, she was sold while still 11 child into the basest of 'occupations—the. slave-mistress of a 'Mandarin. She, however, had got from ■Nature an instinctive gift of tact, a boundless ambition, a greed for power, a want of all human scruple or ordinary feelings; and all these qualities were the more dangerous because ihey 'were, hidden under the. mask of a beautiful face and a perfect ligure; brilliant '■dark eyes shone out from the wellchiselled face; and the smile—it was bewitching, but it was the smile of an ■actress and a tigress. All Chinese have 'tremendous power of self-control-they can smile or luok impassive and expressionless when their hearts are black with haired, revenge, and murder; devorum has become one of the sacred, social, and pi'ispnal tenets of the race. And the Ismpress practised these universal arts to a degree unexampled even 'among Chinese men in the perilous heights of power,

A FRIEND IX DEATH. ■ From the Mandarin to whom she was fast sold she passed to the Emperor; Wie. was tlie .most precious gilt the 'Mandarin could give to his sovereign. ; She was llow at the beginning of her I'great i li.inees, but still she was but ha secondary wife—little better than a 'mistress in comparison with the lawful 'spouse of the sovereign. But she was 'mil long in the palace before she had ''laken the first place in the heart of 'the monarch; imkl when she had borne 'him a, child ,iie made that child his lcir '—it is in the power of the Chinese monarch to nominate his successor. Death Inis always been a friend of the Empress; she seemed to have the power to I'sunwiioii his services as though he were one nf her trembling lacqueys. The 'Emperor, having made his will, died. Iliul, his will contained a codicil which ■poisoned the gold cup that now came to •Ihe Empress's lips. The legitimate wife ; of the Emperor and three ministers 'were joined with her in the Regency. The w'ife soon died; the three ministers wi re found to be criminal traitors, and 'they were executed. And the Empress 'reigned alone. Then her son grew up 'and became fractious; he also died. She put as his successor her four-year-old •nephew; ho in time became fractious, l as we know; and he is now dead. There Is something strangely ironical in the 'statement that the Empress died of grief and of anxiety; .possibly it is 'the oliieial way of accounting for whit 'may have been an application to her •of the .mcthod-s .she had so frequently 'employed to others.

IWIVOLIA' WITHOUT FEAR. I She has been compared to ever ?o 'many other notable female sovereigns, 'but perhaps the nearest to her in character and career was that wondrous Catherine of Russia—that strange compound of intelligence, kindliness, bestiality, and cruelty. Ivike Catherine, the 'late Empress was wholly without fear, and, like the Empress, she had violent 'passions to which she gave free reign. 'Hut Catherine rewarded her favourites, (gave them all kinds of appointments 'for which they were usually quite uii'fitted; was a Grand Duchess of Geroltoeia, hut on the. broad stage of a 'mighty Empire, and never was cruel to any of them. If all the stories that 'are told of the Chinese. Empress, lie 'true, she treated lovers as Jack the 'Ripper treated women. Her-favour was •followed by death.; her bedchamber was 'the anteroom to the scall'ohl. When a poor student, who had come to Pekilt 'to go through his examinations, had iceased to please her fancy, he was-witlk-•ed out of the palace and the next mo'ineut fyuud himself with his head o;t 'the block. There is one grim story 'which gives one an idea of the awful power and cruelty of her character.

'A <-|RIM STORY. She was in sympathy with the Boxer ■movement; but, when it collapsed, she found it politic, to appear to disown It. Unmindful of this, a poor pro'vincial scribe presented her with a long 'address as she was Hying' from Ihe 'lnternational forces from l'ekin just 'after the Roxcr rising had been put Mown. She was bored, she was em'harrassed by this untimely and inopportune compliment; she made a signil 'to one of her attendants—it is characteristic of her and of .her country that lie was a headsman; and in a. second 'this excellent oliieial had cut short the hcribe—with the one blow of his sword lie cut oil' the petitioner's head and put 'an end to his address.

'A WO-VDKRFCL WOMAX. I Vet this awfid creature had another 'side. She taught herself to read after 'she had left the paternal home of poverty and; shame; she was favourable 'to some reforms in the government of 'her country; she had undoubted gifts Usi a ruler; she brought a woman to 'a dictatorship in a land where all \vo'meu are despised. And with her naive ''wit—without money, without parents 'that counted:—surrounded by crafty •ministers, by potential assassins, and 'lighting against the traditions of thou'sands of years—she beat them all, sh"; 'even heat the governments of Europe. •Within a few years of their coming Ito put down the massacres and rebellions she had fomented—while the 'blood of 'Christians still cried to Heaven ■—European gunboats thundered out their ■cannon in celebration of her birthday. 'She was a wonderful creature.