Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2403, 3 December 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

WHAT SI IK WANTS. She i- hhrehingly modest ami shy, As with quivering mwlril and eye, She tells the youth who, I n a neat suit of hlue, Stands waiting to know what she’ll liny. “ [--[ —want some—ahem —I sii|i|pose You must know all about ladies’ clothes ; Then surely yon know— I want you to show Me—l want -well —I want some high hose.” A smile (hitters over the face Of the, vendor of ribbons and lace, As he says, “yon will need Very big ones indeed—(Juite the biggest wc have in the place.” A look of indignant surprise Flashes out from her wide-open eyes: " What, sir, do yon moan?’’ “ That is easily seen : Heigho’s must be always large sighs.” MY LANDLADY, Sim’s a widow, petite, Scarcely up to my shoulder, Twenty-nine, and so sweet! She’s a widow, petite, Debonnaire and discreet, (I wish t were holder !) She’s a widow, petite, Scarcely up to my shoulder. She has hair, golden-brown, And such wee, dainty freckles ! lint never a frown Shu has hair, golden-brown ; To smooth its folds down I’d give all my shekels ; She has hair, golden-brown, And such wee, dainty freckles ! There's a “swell ” from the club, Alas 1 who calls on her— While I scribble and scrub There’s a swell from the club Hut this fellow I’ll drub When we meet, ’pon my honor ! There's a swell from Hie. club, Alas! who calls on her! A JUBILEE ODE. Out of the clouds of the tempest, voicing the people’s cry, Clamorous, importuning, ever swelling on high, The discontent of the nations rings through the listening earth, Sorrowful, strong, upbraiding, appealing against the dearth Of the grain that the reaper harvests Of the scant return for toil, Of the wrong and binding oppression, Of those who rule the soil ; Of the wailings of mourning women, Of children, faint and wan ; Of sadness and sorrow excessive, Of grievous, unparalleled wrong. Tint thou, 0 England, island of wise control, of right, Kvor the land where prevaileth the voice of the people’s might, Ever the land where the workers—the many receive from the few The crown and the right of labour, the laurel to labour due ; Ever the laud of freemen, where men can speak as they will, Where the truth is supreme, wherever a people's doth fill— Thou, O fortunate country, kuoweih not the clamor and wrong ; Thou, land of peace and plenty, only huarkenelh the song Of gratitude beyond all story, To her, the gracious Queen, A chorus of love and glory, An anthem of high esteem. To Victoria, she the woman, The rider, the wise and good. () royal heart, kind and human, Which never indeed bath withstood The sufferer's plaint, the wailing, The crying of sore distress, We honour thee, queen and woman. We honour thee, praise, ami bless The Umderest. kindest ruler that ever the sceptre swayed, Of English matrons the model, a mirror for English maids— Wherein they may see reflected those virtues ami graces alone. Which have made the Queen and the woman the glory of England’s throne. Fifty years have gone over, fifty years since, proud faced, Iter virgin head was uplifted, and the crown on her broad brow placed. She has had her meed of sorrow, and been doomed to walk alone Without him who stood the nearest to the woman's lie.-nt and the throne. Within lifly years the honour of England's Hag has stood. Baptised ’mid the rattle of conflict in the mist of her children's blood ; And fifty years passing over this land, where the slave is free, Have been years all laden with blessings, 0 Queen and woman, for thee. And here from these shores of the ultimate West, Emm the sons of old England, from each loyal breast, Springs forth to thee, Empress, a greeting Eor the Queen and the woman a longing to prove. flow fond and how faithful, flow loyal, unstained, To thee, and to England We have ever remained. Though petty clouds obscure the sky, ’tis for a little space United England must for aye ’mid nations hold her place; And on this year of .Jubilee, O Englishmen, we swear Within onr hearts this union pledge we’ll ever proudly wear. And from this Western land, 0 Queen, receivel the faith and love That England’s sons to England’s Queen will ever proudly prove. San Erancisco, Juno 18, 188".

could obtain in the mountains to help him to recover his strength. Ho affected to Mattuoto be much weaker than he really was. That crafty innkeeper by no means believed everything Ids dear comrade told him. Ho know perfectly well that his testimony had nearly cost Giovanni his life, and understood his character much 100 well to suppose that lie did not ohori.-h some feeling of resentment, towards him on that account. When Giovanni made his appearance at the Pavilion the m xt morning Matteo not merely insisted on his having a glass of wine, but expressed his delight at seeing him about again. Curious, though he was, as to who Giovanni's companion of the previous day had been, ho made no allusion to the fact of the bandit’s presence. It had pleased Giovanni to take no notice of him, and Matteo tacitly ignored that ho had recognised him. But whilst they wore .-till idly chaf ing the elderly stranger once more made his appearance, and scaling himself at the table greeted them courteously, and asked for a cup of coffee. No sooner had Matteo disappeared in search of it, than the mock Herr Stein remarked—• “ Ah ! Signor, an excellent man no doubt, the landlord, but his wines are of no pure vintage. I felt uncomfortable all day, after our little imprudence of yesterday. Yon will, no doubt, think me fastidious, but I must tell yon I am in the wino trade myself, and know what tricks are played with the juice of the grape. In flash places like these, landlords are made to pay so much for the privilege of selling it, they arc rented so high that it is only by much adulteration they can get a living out of it. It is at quiet little inns, in tbe less fashionable quarter of the town, that you must go for good wine.” Giovanni said nothing for two or three minutes ; ho was disappointed. Ho had looked, not only to meeting the stranger, hut to that stranger repeating his conduct of yesterday, Giovanni dearly loved wine, hut as his pockets were generally destitute of coin, he still more highly appreciated it when lie had nothing to pay for it. it was not Matteo’s usual custom to regale his comrades free of expense, when they happened to put in tut appearance, lie received them quite on the footing of the general public, and expected them to pay for what they consumed, but this .-traugor, surely he was not going to take this same narrow-minded view, if lie dealt in wine ho should encourage men to drink it, and not simply call for coffee 1 “One may taste a good deal worse I before one tastes better,” ho growled at length. “ Wealthy men like yourself may drink rich wines, but poor peasants like mo must be content with tho poorest stuff.” “ You mistake, my friend, I am far from wealthy, I am but a clerk in a wine merchant's house. One small advantage of my position is that I have tho privilege of purchasing wine for my own consumption at a very cheap rate.” At this instant Matteo appeared with the coffee, and eouversatiou between the pair ceased. It was a curious instance of instinct between the bandit-innkeeper and the police agent. Neither had the slightest suspicion of what the other really was, and yet each experienced a singular distrust. Matteo was inquisitive as to who this elderly gentleman might bo ; still he was not only so by nature, but bis connection with Patroceni had made it almost his business. Leronx on his part did not for one instant suspect Matteo of having any relations with tho men of the mountain, but ho thought him a prying, tattling landlord, and his reason for taking up the lino lie did on the subject of the wine, was that ho was anxious to obtain a quiet conversation with Giovanni far from the reach of Mattco’s inquisitorial eyes and ears. He had, as before said, penetrated at their first interview Giovanni’s weakness, and baited his trap accordingly. There was no wino to bo bad at his expense in tho Villa (Id Ratio, but Giovanni clearly understood that if he chose to accompany that quiet elderly gentleman to one of those old fashioned taverns ho bilked of, there would bo wine, and probably better wine than ho was accustomed to, sot before him. During the time that Matteo hovered about the table no further conversation took place between his guests. The stranger sipped his coffee and smoked his cigarette in silence, which Giovanni made no effort to break. Suspicious as Matteo was he began to think the meeting of yesterday must, have been a mere chance between the pair, and after enqnbing whether there were any further orders ho once more retired into the Pavifiott. He had no sooner disappeared than Giovanni remarked : “ One docs not like to hurt the feelings of an old friend, Signor. I have known Matteo here for some time. Guo is loath to tell him so, but as you say his wino is not up to tho mark.” This had never occurred in tho least to Giovanni, nor did it now. It was quite as good as he was accustomed to, but lie was not going to neglect a chance. The strange gentleman should be afforded an opportunity of letting him taste a superior vintage if lie chose. Leronx was in no hurry to take the hint. He was much too clover to wound the susceptibilities of the tattling innkeeper by carrying off a customer, “ If we should moot about tho gardens to morrow, signor, I shall he happy to take your opinion of a different vintage,” and with this Leronx finished his coffee, made a courteous bow, and took Lis departure. Giovanni, although by no means quickwitted, hail, like most of these low brutal natures, a considerable amount of cunning where his own interests wore concerned. Ho was quite aware, without further words, that if he chose to meet this affable old gentleman in some other part of the gardens to-morrow, an adjournment to some snug tavern, and gratuitous wine, would be the result. It never occurred to him to ask why a stranger should be so anxious for his society. This which would have at once struck the superior intelligence of Matteo, never entered his head. It was sufficient for him that he was to be supplied with the means of indulging in his favourite vice. Leronx had instinctively shown his judgment whet; he had elected to defer tho process of pumping his victim till he got him from under the eye of tho sharp proprietor of tho Pavilion. Tho next day found Giovanni in the gardens of the. Villa delßcalc. at the same time. Ho had not to wander about far before he espied the wino merchant’s clerk, punctual to their nnnientioned tryst. The old gentleman was seated on a bench a considerable distance from the Pavilion, and apparently wrapt in reverie, But for all that, his eye, keen as a hawk’s, had scon Giovanni the moment he entered tho grounds—some minutes, indeed, before that worthy had recognised him. Loroux was a thorough artist. Giovanni, Matteo, or even the Count himself, adroit as the latter was in every description of disguise, would have opened their eyes wide to find that greyhaired, feeble old gentleman, with the silver-rimmed spectacles, was in reality an active man in his prime, and one of tho smartest and most daring officers in the Neapolitan police. He welcomed Giovanni cordially, and expressed a hope that after they had enjoyed the delh-ioits air for half-an hour or so, the Signor could spare tho time to try a Hash of wine with him at a little tavern,

which was quiet, and where he was well known.

Could Giovanni spare the time? Could he not for any experiments of that nature ? Ho was like that witty but short lived journalist who was always n a hurry, and whoso parting salutation was usually “ can’t stay any longer my dear fellow. I have an important appointment, to keep;” it was generally with a glass of brandy and water tit the nearest refreshment bar. Tho bandit expressed hi.s delight, and in a short time tho pair adjourned to a quiet sleepy little tavern unknown to Giovanni. In obedience to tho orders of his new friend, a bottle and glasses wore speedily produced, and tho stranger proceeded at once to become confidential. He informed tho bandit that he was a German by birth, and that he had been for some years in tho house of so and so, naming at the same time some leading wine merchants in tho city. As Loroux conjectured this conveyed no sort of information to Giovanni, who bought his wine at the nearest inn, and had no knowledge whatever of wholesale houses. Then the police agent cunningly turned the conversation upon Giovanni’s own pursuits, and thought he could make but little out of him at first, yet he ascertained quite enough to feel quite sure he was on the right track, and that Giovianni could tell him a good deal about Patroceni and his hand did he but choose. So far he was very guarded. He stuck to his story that he lived by the cultivation of a small piece of land at tho foot of the mountains, and the only admission Leronx was able to draw from him was that the brigands were not such bad people as they were represented to be, and often did a gcod turn to the peasantry and poor people. But this was by no means destined to be their only meeting. Herr Stein took tho air every morning in the Villa del Reale about midday, and there Giovanni met him for the next day or two with tho utmost regularity, hut by that time the I bandit had got quite atiliated to that sleepy little tavern on the outskirts of the city, and had taken, moreover, a strong fancy to this new hostelry. He found that he came across his friend Herr Stein, quite as readily there, as if he wandered tip the gardens above the bay. It never crossed Giovanni's mind that to a man employed in a house of business, hi.s new acquaintance seemed to have his time pretty much at his own command, lie simply voted Herr Stein a good old fellow, a inun after his own heart, and an excellent judge of a lunch and a bottle of wine. lie ate and drank daily now at the old gentleman's expense ; delicate, very, was the invidious flattery of Leroux, who declared to an old driedup townsman like himself Giovanni’s anecdotes and conversation, redolent of country air, and the hill-side were like a bracing tonic. Curious, very, this Herr Stein on the subject of brigandage. Ever lost in admiration of tho marvellous achievements of this famous Count Patroceni. It was singular with how many of his adventures Herr Stein seemed to be acquainted, “It is true, my friend,” he said, laughing, “that I get my anecdotes chiefly from gossip and the old newspapers. lie has not been heard of for some, little time, but this last exploit of his has set all tho tongues in Naples wagging, and the stories of his past career appear to be endless. Odd you never heard them, for he must be a pretty near neighbour of yours when yon are at home.” This, as it was intended, a little piqued Giovanni. The hot - tempered, winesaddened ruffian chaffed tit being twitted with such complete ignorance concerning tho hero of his own neighbourhood, for Herr Stein was over careful to represent him quite in that light. “1 know more about him, perhaps, than you think for,” ho growled. “ You’ll keep it to yourself,” he continued, looking cautiously round, “but I've even seen him and experienced both good and evil turns at his hands.” “I thought he never maltreated snob as you,” rejoined Herr Stein. “ I fancied half his wondrous achievements were due to the devotion of the peasantry, and tho reverence they hold him in as a patriot.” “And you’re right, Signor, though it’s but partially true,” replied Giovanni, rather excitedly. “ Pear has a good deal to say to it. There’s not a man between here and Amalfi dare cross his Excellency. It wore bettor for him to have quarrelled with the Government, the police, and the Church, than to have angered the Count.” “I wonder,” said Herr Stein, musingly, “ if you know anyone, or could hear of anyone, who could get a note delivered into that camp.” “You’re not a bad sort, old gentleman, and, as you say, a cup of coffee and a thimbleful of brandy is just about the thing to wind up a lunch with. I’m not given to talking, but it’s just possible that if I was convinced there was no harm in it, I might manage that little matter for yon.” “There’s nothing like being aboveboard,” said Herr Stein ; “ I will tell you tho whole story. Count Patroceni has got amongst his captives an English gentleman who deals with our house. That we know is the case, as do his bankers, the English Consul, everybody. The police have ascertained that fact. Well, ho has a most attached servant in the city, who is frantic to communicate with his master. It is only a line ; merely to say that every step possible is being taken for his release. I don’t suppose yon know it, but Patroceni has released one of his prisoners to come and treat for the ransom of Hie others. This Signor Wheldrake’s servant only wishes to send his master a line to reassure him.” “If I only knew there was no harm in it,” said Giovanni, in doubtful tones. Leroux saw the battle was won ; he poured out another petite verre for his companion, and then said—- “ Harm! There can be no harm. The note will bo in your hands to read ; it shall not be even closed. I will bring it to you to-morrow. If you do not like it, Pouf, tear it up, and there’s an end of the matter ! Count Patroceni has named a certain sum as the price of his prisoner’s release ; there can’t be much harm in letting them know their friends here are doing their best for them, and trust very shortly to have obtained the money. These English, they have so much money. Now, they would give a good deal to anyone who will get this simple note conveyed for them.” “ I’ve a great mind to see what I can do for you,” said Giovanni, in irresolute fashion. “ There can be no trouble come of it, and it seems a pity not to have a share of tho gold when it is flying about.” “I’ll bring you the note to-morrow, and live gold pieces to pay for the postage,” rejoined Leronx quietly, and what is more, he continued, “ I will bring a basket of wine for you to send to any friend of yours.” “It’s a bargain,” said Giovanni, ” meet me here at this time to-morrow,” This explains how Wheldrakc received Chisel’s note and how Pietro was able so royally to entertain his comrades. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE UNEERGROUND MAILLoroux had attained his object, he bad opened enmnuinieatiod with tho captives. That very afternoon he had found out Chisel, and dictated that note, ft could

not be too simple, ho thought; a note that if it fell into wrong hands should commit nobody. It would be well to feel his way cautiously before anything compromising passed between him ami the brigands But in all his experiences of the criminal classes he had rarely found much difficulty in persuading them to sell their comrades for gold. It required tact doubtless, the bribe must be dangled before their eyes delicately in the first place. There is little harm for instance in smuggling a letter, more especially when you arc well paid for doing so. Leroux read the contents of this note over to Giovanni next day and then gave it to him unfastened. '■ You can show it to anybody,” he remarked ; “ and if you think it can possibly work any harm to Patruceni or his men, do not deliver it. It is only natural that the friends of the prisoners hero in Naples should want to let them know that every effort is being made for their release. ” Giovanni said nothing for some few minutes, but his eyes sparkled at the sight of the gold, and the basket of wine which Leroux handed him. “Therecan’t bo any harm in that bit of a note," he said a length. “ I’ll look it over again, but I think I can promise to get that forwarded for you.” The police agent suppressed the smile that rose to his lips; it was as he had suspected ; it was evident to him by Giovanni’s manner that be could not read. He put the note away carefully in his pocket without looking at it. What was to prevent him examining it then and there? Simply his inability to understand it. Leroux bad taken all this into ; bis calculation. Now the question was—bad Giovanni any friend in Naples to whom bo could venture to show it? The police agent thought not. It was clear that Giovanni looked upon it that there was great risk in interfering with the brigands. It was probable that bo would not wish anyone to know that be held communication with them. Again Leroux was right; this was just his companion’s dilemma. He could not read that note himself,' nor, save Matteo, did he know anyone in Naples that he could trust to tell him the contents. He was not very likely to maks a confidant of Matteo hi the present state of his feelings with regard to that worthy. All this Leroux had counted on before making his proposition. He guessed that the greater part of the brigands were ignorant peasants, neither able to read nor write. It would not do to risk it the first time, but let one or two harmless notes pass and they would no longer o.iro whether the communication was open or closed. In a few days Leroux thought there was every probability of obtaining the intelligence he wanted, namely, what wore their numbers, what were their habits, what hour would be most suitable for surprising the camp, and, above all, how fur did their scouts extend ? He meant to be very cautious, but if there was a case in which Talleyrand’s famous maxim required to bo rigidly adhered to on the part of a police ageut it was now. “Above all, point da zele!” To rescue Sir Jasper and his party and at the same time to capture his abductors, was an operation so delicate and involving such risk that most men, in Leroux’s place, would have hesitated to attempt it. Let a life be sacrificed and there would be much outcry on the part of the English Government. Leroux quite understood what that meant, vv’hen a strong nation begins to bully a weaker one, the latter easts eagerly about for a scapegoat. There was no doubt in Leroux’s mind as to who would bo the scapegoat in this case. Let him fail, and lie would be held as responsible for any loss of life that might occur as Patroceui himself. But Leroux was of the stall'of which heroes are made with nerves of iron and an ambition insatiable. Two qualities which have gone to make great generals or great rulers for the most part. The unsatisfied lust for territory, main stimulus of your great conquerors, from Alexander to Napoleon. Anyhow, Letoux had got his game in his own hands, for those with power to interfere in it were in complete ignorance of his manreuvres. Hammerton all this while was strenuously endeavouring to bring matters to a conclusion, but the hurrying of the rais mg of money is a weary task as many a bold better, or reckless spendthrift has found to his cost. The anxiety to lend even at the most exorbitant interest is utterly incommensurate with the desire to borrow, and though Hammerton, fretful and fidgetty, did his best to hurry Messrs Toldi and Kratz, yet these accommodating bankers declared such a sum as he wanted could not be collected under two or three weeks. He was honestly desirous of doing his best, but Hammerton had far too much experience not to know that, however unimpeachable your securities, thousands are not plucked like fruit in an orchard. In a small way he had seen plenty of this sort of thing in his time, and chafe though he might at the delay, he was honestly convinced that the bankers were doing their best. It may be doubted whether time did not hang heavier on his hands than on those of the captives in the woods above Amalfi. There is not very much to do in Naples, and Hannnerton thought it judicious to expose himself as little as might be. What was to be the outcome of all this, as far as he was concerned, even when brought to a satisfactory conol mi in ? Maude was irretrievably lost to him, while he himself would stand denounced as a oardsharper before every club in London, True ilia denouncers might not be able quite to establish their case, but their asseverations would bo quite strong enough to throw a taint about him impossible to tide over. A man’s honour in those days —or nigh a score of years ago was as easily tarnished as a looking glass. We have changed all that, and are changing it, still more day by day. We don’t make quite so much fuss about these trifles as of old, and it is possible to do on the racecourse or at the card tabic things which have once put the perpetrators out of court. It was not at all that he was reformed. There are vices that consume a man, that once they have seized him in their grip ho is helpless to struggle with, and none more so than this. Once the gambler has taken to “assisting fortune” he is as little likely to refrain as the opium eater from the consumption of his favourite drug. Hammerton, to some extent, recognised this; ho had lost all his money, forfeited his chances, and imbibed a fatal passion for play. “ Why,” bethought, “should he not utilise his knowledge ; why not practise chicaneries, that, used against himself in his neophyte days, had doubtless brought him to his ruin.” Still, on the subject of rescuing his uncle and his party, ho was determined to do his best, and had the slightest inkling of M. Leroux’s tortuous scheming fallen within his ken, he would have opposed it, tooth and nail — better judge of the gravity of the situation, perhaps, than the police agent. The Captain hid enjoyed the privilege of Patroceni’a intimacy, and knew infinitely better than Leroux of what the Count was capable, And ret, the archives of the bureau had told Lomus a good deal concerning his antagonist. But just as Hammerton would have sat down to confront the most ruse ccarli player in all Paris, so would the police agent have backed himself to out-wit the most accomplished c m c in all Europe. Leroux’s scheme was so far a success He speedily found himself in constant communication with the brigands, Thq

little ihjcmer with Giovanni at that sleepy old tavern in tho suburbs had become almost a daily institution. The bandit asked nothing better. Ho approved of the oookcry, ho approved of the wine, and in the matter of that tho Police Agent was ever liberal. Postage was paid for with a lavish hand, and, as far as thick-witted Giovanni could see, tho correspondence was perfectly harmless. Unluckily, that, fact was precisely what was perplexing M. Leroux. His notes might bo guarded, but they were nothing to the careful responses ho received. Th'-y were all signed “Cvril Wholdrake,” but, as the Police Agent said irritably to himself, “ If ever there was a man who hesitated at doing something for freedom, it is my correspondent. There is no getting tho smallest bit of information out of him. What is the use of such a note as this ? “ Thanks for yours. Glad to hoar things arc going on satisfactorily. Shall only be too delighted when all arrangements are complete ; thoughtful of you to write. “ Cyril Wheldr.vke.” “ Now,” though the police agent, “it has been rather waste of both money and time to get into communication with a man who has not more nerve than this. He must understand what I mean ; he surely can guess that his friends from the outside are curious to know how things are going on in the camp. A man with an ounce of common-sense could comprehend all this without putting me to the risk of putting such a question on paper.” Wheldrake was no fool. He could understand all this. He gave Chisel great credit for having succeeded in establishing this correspondence between them, but then he very naturally supposed that he was in communication with his valet in Naples. Even had he known that it was the police who were prompting these epistles, he would most decidedly have hesitated to furnish them with any in formation. The ransom .-night be stiff, but Wholdrake thoroughly comprehended that there was only one way out of the complication—namely, to pay the money. He knew well what he had risked by inertly changing places with Hammerton. Glanlield and himself understood much more clearly than the others how near they had been of being shot off-hand Sheer good-nature had a good deal to say to his sending even the very guarded replies that he did to Chisel's letters, M. Leroux was puzzled. It was all very well; with great difficulty and considerable expense he had set on foot an almost daily post between himself and the captives, but so far nothing could bo more uninteresting than the correspondence. It might have been puhliscd in the journals, and Patroceni, his band, the whole country side, and all the city loft to make what they could of it, and the result would have been simply that Naples and Patroooni know precisely what they did now. How was he to provoke this Signor Wholdrake into being more expansive in his communications. That was difficult. Leroux saw at once that this correspondent (for though Chisel was the nominal writer) was a shrewd clear-headed man, who had no idea of compromising himself or his friends. Leroux quickly suspected as was indeed the case, that Wheldrake would have infinitely have preferred that this correspondence had never been'established. A terrible disappointment this to' the police agent. Time was everything as he well knew, in this case ; no infermationclearly to be got from Signor Wheldrake, and yet Leroux, thinking it over, came to tho conclusion that neither his bribes of money or wino had been altogether thrown away. There was an increasing avidity on the part of Giovanni with regard to a surreptitious correspondence on which tae postage ran to live gold pieces a letter. I'ruc, ho had to sliaro his spoil with his old comrade Pietro, but. that worthy too was greedy of gold, and although by no means the drunken swine that. Giovanni was, like most of those men of tho mountains he regarded wine and gambling as the two great luxuries of life. Two of the gold pieces, accompanied by a basket affording the wherewithal for a revel, had completely won Pietro’s adhesion to this unlicensed post. He had submitted the notes to a comrade, who, on the strength of having been a courier, and picked up a slight command of English expletives, professed to understand the language. He did to a very limited extent, and was perfectly right when, after laboriously spelling them out, he pronounced Chisel’s notes harmless, and so M. Leronx had established a willling agent at either end of the postal line he had set up. But if he had got nothing out of the correspondence, tho police agent had little doubt that in a very short time the greed of gold and thirst for wine would put all he wanted to know entirely at his disposal. Like a Mephistopholes, whose business it is to trade on the infirmities of our nature, and armed with that groat experience of criminal humanity which his profession had taught him, Leronx was assured that the two deadliest baits to men of that type were already in their mouths, only to be speedily in their maws. Pike-fishers give their victims a measured time to gorge, and M. Leroux knew that he also must afford this luckless pike of his hooking some short grace to swallow the bait he so successfully dangled before their eyes past all repudiation. (To be conlimwil.)