T u ,_ .-' AFTER TU-MORROW. “You say may willbe senL to plison for embezzlement, " said Mr. Peterson, reflec- tive1yâ€"“ tell me the meaning of that word ‘ embezziement.’ " “betting grmds under false pretence»â€" that’s embezzlement, sir,†replied the private inquiry agent. ‘ u I “Why, that’s just how they do it. Lor’ bless you, sir, they couldn’t get credit if they didn’t make a, show. Not one of these West-End houses wouldn’t trust me with goods for ï¬ve pounds ; but a. smart female, with nothing in the world but a good stock of impudenoe, can let the whole lot of ’em in for hundreds easy. And they do. The \Vest- End tradesmen are constantly being done. A friend of mine, in the same line of busi» nes's asmyself, is employed regular by one of these ï¬rms to ï¬nd out weather a new customer is a smasher or otherwise. I call- ed on him last night, and he told me all about these two females. It appears his employers are going for ’em, cost what it may. It’s throwingY good money after bad, as you may say. They’ll never get back a penny for the goods they‘ve let go; but, you see, they have to make a public example now and then to frighten some of the shaky ones into paying up. u n .1 “ Air/Idiot they keep horses and carriages and dress like that 1†“Is that young girl guilty as well as the woman ‘3†“Both in it, sima'nd, from information receix'cd, I should say the young girl was more in it than the other. It’s she Who’s let ’em in and got credit-all round.†J ’ D r) “I don’t think they would if they’d known I it : but the parties took precious good care they shouldn’t. This is how they did it. The ‘ young lady has a lot of cards printed with her name, “Vanessa (} Minnie,†under a crest, and “Grahame 'l‘owers’ over the Lon- don address in a corner. But anntie gives the e "ls, and orders the things to be sent. home, and consequently leads me to believe she‘s Vanessa Grahame. They worked another dodge of the same kind. It seems, that they brought a pony Carriage to London with ’inmwery smart turn out : handsome black col) and silver-plated harness. There was a monogram, ‘M. R.’on the panel of the trap, and the same onï¬the harness? showinvor that it belonged to this Mrs. Mer- rivale , who formerly called herself Redmond. \Vell, the first thing they did \ 'as to take off the monogram and stick Miss Grahame’s crest in the place of it. Clever, wasn't it ‘3†“It is dreadful to think of.†“Why, so it is, silkeespeeially for the creditors. They’ve hooked the things to Vanassa Grahame and can’t get a penny out of her ; nor her people if she’s got any, seeing that she’s a minor ; and silks and furs and champagne and horse riding and a villa furnished up to the mines are not ex- actly necessities to a person in her cireunr stances. It appears,†continued Grifï¬ths, consulting his notebook, “that they came to London August the ï¬stâ€"barely two months ago#and put up for a week at the Grosvener Hoteliâ€"there’s cheek for you ! Then they went into this Villa at St. John’s VVoodV7the Pines. †“Where is St. J ohn’s \Vood ‘3†“North-west district, sirwwhere a lot of people of this sort live.†“What sort of people ‘3†“Why, parties who haven’t any regular source of income. The party they took this villa off is in the musical line, and she’s gone to America with an operatic company. There they’ve been going it like anything“â€" l'ving up to a Couple of thousand a year. I should say, what with theatres every night, horse riding, pony carriage, four servants, and high living." . .s. .‘. “v" V W ' V D “\tht is this? Do you tell me that prac- tical men of business would give large credit to a. young girl him that ‘3" ‘1w-n y1l,, lVIIZOl‘BLBI'Se?) said something in his own language which V'aS quite incomprehensible to J. Grifï¬ths, but in his voice there was an unmistakable tone of regret. “Don’t you worry about your son, sir. There’s evidence enough to convict both the females of swindling. I’ve jotted down one or two facts hei‘e’†“N0,I V have heam enough,†said Mr Petersen, tm 111110 in his chair c’with a lepel ling 1110\‘e1nel1t of his hand. ..... 1- ‘1n 1 “No, I am not satisï¬ed when I think of that young girl, as I have seen her, quite a. young hundrgnot older than my own daughter.†..... . 1-“ l ,, ‘?\Vell, I’ve done the best I could for you,†said Gritï¬thsiu an injured tone, feeling that his client had every reason to be satisï¬ed with the result of his inquiries. “Yes, you have done well.†" “I thought you didn’t seem quite satis- ï¬ed. †“She’ll go to prison, {ind coxnevout worse than before. She’ll play the same game on again. They always do ; and she’ll get another term in prison, and come out more hardened than ever, And so she’ll go on, comin’ out and going in, till she’s a regular bad lot.’7 “And what will become of her then ‘2†“ \Vhen She’s lost her good looks and her youth and all thatwwell, I’m blessed if I know what does become of ’em all then.†“And yet vnu have no sympathy f01 her while she is stillymuw. My son loves her,’ he added, tenderly as he turned agam in his seat. “Pelhaps I loxe he1 too. 8111er , there Is s0111ethinggood 1n beautiful faces to win the love of innocent hearts.†“Well, you see, sir, I ain’t got any sympathy with girls of that sort.†“Tell me what will become of her,†the old gentleman said sharply facing about. .. rawfléllr there’s nothing more to be done, I supgtosef.y said Grifï¬ths. ‘1 n. n. ".7 .7 , “Yes there ii,†replied Mr. Petersen, after a moment’s reflection ; “ï¬nd out more about MISS Grahame. All \ 'e know now is what you have learned from a. man occupied in securing evidence to convict her of evil. I cannot believe that she is quite wicked, and I am surewyes, quite sureetliat my son will not believe it.†“That is What I \VanLA-the truth. Nothing more. †“W'hy, as you say, sir, it’s only one man’s opinion, and he‘s bmssed. There’s one or two points in the case that I can’t quite make out sutisfawtiory, and it may he she’ll turn out to he only a tool in this )Irs. Red- mond‘s hands when the truth is known.†“God forbidI should do that wrong to Miss Grahame,†said Mr. Petersen! He “VVcIl, Ill lune 3‘ m at it, sir, and learn {1.11 there 15 to be lemnt, ’ said (wriiï¬ths with renewed cheerfu‘111e&. “In the meanwhile, don’t you say a word about this to your son.†THE BATTLE WON. CH XZTA‘ER XI the left, the ofï¬ce, promising to call the next day. He did not get much for his money the ï¬rst day; but the next evening he obtained a few facts from Miss Grahame’s coach. man. y hifï¬ths sat for some time in considera. tion ; then he put money in his pocket, and went out to buy the truth about Miss Gm» 11ame. This young man had set; down his mistress and Mrs. Meri'ivale at the doors of the Cri- terion, and was slowly working his way through the crowd of vehicles in Piccadilly Circus, when Grifï¬ths cooly stepped up and took the box seat beside him. 7 ‘V‘Hallo, here~1 saymwhat are you at?" asketï¬hg young fellow. “All right!{i1i\ e 011.1 m going with you just as far as Oxford (Jim-us: that s 3.11. I \\ ant to know sonmthing about the ladies you heme just set down, and I shall pay fo1 the information.†Argument, 01' even objection, was out of the question in the midst of the trafï¬c, and by the time he had driven into the compara- tive calm of Regent Street, the cozwhman had come to the conclusmn that he might just as well earn a shilling or two as not. “\Vell, now then, governor, what do you want to know Y†he asked. “Tell me what your ladies 110 from the first thing in the 11101111110 till the last thing at night. To hewin w 1111, what time do they come down 111 the 11101111111; 1†“Mrs. Mei'l'ivale comes down all mmmcr of times, but Miss Grahame is mostly down by nine to breakfast. She’s always dressed and rcwly to go out for her riding lesson when Mr. Dyer’s gentleman comes at ten with the horses.†“Ntver 111isses 11. (lay ’cept Sundays. V0 (*1 see such :1 younw lauly for ridinn. Don t mind what sm 1; of weather it is. “V1 ell when she’s 11ml 1101‘ lesson. "†“She comes 11111110. Hwy 11m 0 lunch at one, 11-1111 after that they either goes out again for a. ride, the two of em" (11' else (11'i\'» ing in the victm 111 †““helc 110t11c3' (11' 1103 “All 11111111101 of plumes~ : picture Shows, shoppinfl; hut 111(1stl3' the3 have at turn tluough the 111111; ‘1†“ Every night it’s :1 theatre (11' 111 concert.†“Or :1 music 111111." “Music 111111 '7’ 00110911 the young 1111111, with disgust 111111 indignation. “Do I look hke .1 conchlnan as (hives ladies to music halls 9†“\Vcll, where do you take them. 9†“I’ ve told you.†“Sometimes they go to visit friends, I suppose ‘2" “No they (1011’ t. †1 “\Vell,a111yhow, they stop to speak to acquaintances '3†“011; she goes out every morning for a. riding lesson.†‘L‘No, the don’t. The haven’t 0t an _ .Y Y g y acqujuntancgs. â€_ “But surely they receive Visits from some- one. A gentleman drops 111 now and then?†“No they don t. No one drops 111.’ “Not even hill collectors.†“You don’t call them gentlemen, I hope. “"0 don't and we send ’em round to the servant’s door if they don’t know their place. Don’t you run away with any fool» 1811 error. \Ve’re as respectable as if we lived in Russell Square.†“I’ve been with them ever since they came to live in London. Now you’ve got your answer, and you can get down as sharp as you like.†“\Vhat’s the matter ‘3†“Why, you know well enough. “You‘ve been hinting that my people ain’t of no ac- count, and that’s just as much as to tell me to lny face that I haven’t got any charac- ter to lose. I know you, and I don’t want your money. If you can’t get off my box without assistance, I’ll call a, policeman to help you.†“P’raps you’ve not been there long enough to know any better.†Grifï¬ths was not dis leased with the young man’s virtuous imiignation. It was clear that the ladies were living respectably. But where did they get the money to go to theatres and concerts “most every night†if it were an actual fact that they were driven to the dangerous extremity of goods under false pretences ‘3 He took a cab to the Grosvenor Hotel, sent 111 his business card, and was presently taken into the manager’s mom. “You have had two ladies staying in this hotel I one calling herself Mrs. Merrivale ; the other Bliss Grahame,†he began. The manager assented with a nod, and said they had stayed t'xere a. week in Au- gust. V “I am instructed by friends of Miss Grahame to make inquiry respecting cer« mini debts mpurrpd by that yogng I‘M-1y.†“Yes, I am aware. I have called to cor- roho ‘nte the informatian given to my friend Peel.†“I have already answered inquiries on thatsubject.†“May I ask if she paid in cash 01' by cheque 2'†“Cheque.†“You have no doubt about the chcqu bbe- ing genuine ‘3†“None at all. I can prove that at once to your satisfaction. " “\Vell, I can only tell you what I told him â€"â€"Miss Grahame owes us nothing.†He opened the drawer and produced his bank books which showed that a cheque for one hundred pounds payable to Vanessa Grahame had been paid in to the bank and was duly honored. But the chief fact for Grifï¬ths was that the cheque was drawn by Hyams Nichols. The name was well known tohim: Nichols wasaprofessionalInoneylend- er. It was dated the same day that they left the Grosvenor. It looked as if they had been staying there only till they got the money to pay their bill. But it puzzled Grifï¬ths to imagine how they had got the money out of Nichols: he was the last mall in the world to be taken in by pretenees of any kind. It cost Mr. (xlifï¬ths two whole days and the best part of a hve epound note bef01e he got within measurable distance of an ex- planation. He succeeded at length, however, in getting Mr. Benjamin Levy, a clerk to Mr. Hyams Nichols, into his ofï¬ce, and there brought him to a communicative spirit. A “st. Redmond came to us the \ my (lam) ' she bolted from her husband,†MI. Lo\y ex- p1ained.“She brought \Iiss G1 ahumc with hel. The young lady w as (hessed plainly, and looked pmticularly pale; but the! e, I tell you, I was mashed at ï¬rst sight, and stammered, and stumbled over the mat, and went on just like a. fool showing ’0111 into the governor’s private ofï¬ce. And it is a good thing for you, Mr. iriï¬iths, I was mashed, for I wouldn’t have let down my gm‘er'nor for thousands if I hadn’t been. What I’m doing ain’t for you to quid : don’t think it. I’m playing for Miss Grahame ; not 'mysglf. “ tReVad â€this, if you please,’ says Mrs; Red» mond, laying a. paper on the table before the governor as: soon as ting: wgre seattad. - “He reads itâ€"so did I afterwards. It was a will, leaving an estate worth forty or ï¬fty thousand pounds to Miss Grahame, to be hers when she’s twenty-one, with a codicil placing her under the guardianship of J ames Redmond until she comes of age, and be- queathing the whole estate to him in the event of her dying a minor. Do you see ‘2†Griffiths nodded. “When the governor had read it through, Mrs. Redmond says, ‘This is Miss Grahame; I am the wife of her guardian, J ames Red- mend.†“The governor butters ’em up with a, couple of complimentsâ€"he’s a, rare hand at that, you know‘and she goes on 2 “ I have given up my home and all I have in the world, and brought this unfortunate young lady to London in order to save her from being murdered by the most infamous Scoundrel livingâ€"that scoundrel is my hus- band, James Redlnond.’ “ ‘Is it possible?’ says the governor, as if he‘d never come across such a thing be- fore. “ ‘ Miss Grahame herself will tell you that an attempt was made upon her life last night; If; 11030‘ that true, Nessa? ’ ‘ (‘J‘ ‘1 should not have been alive now but for you, dum‘,’ replies the poor young lady in a low tone, taking Mrs. Redmond’s hand aï¬') "tionatcly. “ The governor was astounded of course ; and than, having souped em down amLiu, hesmys ‘And what do you ploposc to do, my dezu‘ (141165 "’ V “ ‘I intend,’ says MI'S. Redmond, ‘to live in London and keep Miss Grahame under my protection until she is entitled to her estate and is no longer in danger of falling 21. Victim to my husband‘s machina- tions. hit I am without mczms. AS I told you, I have :Lhmnhmcd everything. I have nothing but the pony carriage in which we made 0111‘ escape from Grahame Towers and an few personal efl'ccts.’ "' ‘Ymn‘ husband has 110 legal claim upon that property, of course 2" says the governor, getting 011 to business. “ ‘None,’ says 5‘. 1e; ‘1 have nothing that belongs to himâ€"not even 3. name. That is '1, stain I will not bear. Henecforth I shall be known only by my maiden name-WMeui- vale.’ “A very proper decision, Mrs. Merrivule,’ says the governor. ‘And now, I presume, you want me to give you a temporary pecuniary assistance '2’ A 1,. r. u v “ ‘Not for myself, but for Mis< Grahame ’ says Mrs. Redmond. She must live during the next three years in a manner suitable to the position she is to occupy when she comes of age. For that purpose I wish you to advance the sum of ï¬ve thousand pounds on the security of that will.’ “This was 5 large order, and the will, of course, was no security at all; but the governor answered at once, as sweetly as if she’d asked for a. loam of half a. crown on consuls for a hundred quid, ‘There will be no (lifï¬culy in letting Miss Grahame have ï¬ve thousand pounds for her present; use on her promissory note, and if later on she would like to draw a. bill for a few thousands more-J “Mrs. Redmond was delighted, and I thank you very much,’ says she. ‘When can “(9 have the money ‘3’ _ “ ‘You can have a couple of thousand to- morrow morning, if my legal adviser sees no objection to the security.’ “That’s exactly what the governor sent me to (lo as soon as I had shown ’em out. I got a, copy of the will from Somerset House, and the governor did nothing all the rest of the day but look at it, and stroke his beard. I was curious to know how the governor was going to work this job, for I knew perfectly well he never intended to let Mrs. Merri- Vale have money without good security. “ ‘ Oh, you’ll ï¬nd thilt all light,’ says she ‘Y 011 can syec the w ill at Somerset House.’ “She came alone next day, and the: gov ernor was more soapy than ever. “ ‘My legal adviser,’ says he, ‘lias pointed out one fact that we have overlooked. If Miss Grahame should die before twenty- one, her promissory note is worth nothing, as the whole estate goes to Mr. Redmond. The probability is that Miss Grahame will not (lie w hile she enjoys your valuable pro- tection ; but should it happen that she fell by some unfortunate accident into the hands of her guardian, the prospect of her attainâ€" ing the age of twenty-one isiwell, very small indeed. Nevertheless, I think we may overcome the diiï¬eulty by insuring the young lady’s life for the sum we wish to place at her disposal, and leaving the policy in my hands as security. I shall be happy to pay the preliminary expenses, and all that Miss Grahame need do is to submit to a. medical examination at a respectable in- surance ofï¬ce, and put her name, to a piece of paper.’ ’ 3 Well, of course, Mrs. Redmond agreed to that, and the same afternoon Miss Grahame passed an examination and ï¬lled up a form of application to insure her life for ï¬ve thousand pounds. The governor paid the premium, and got the policy the following week, and to do the thing hand- some handed Miss Grahame a cheque for £100 on the spot, promising the rest of the loan by the end of the week. “ You may lay your life he didn’t keep his promise. Mrs. Redmond had got enough to start with, and didn’t bother us for three or four days. \Vhen she did come the governor, of com Se, was 011t,a11d when she crune again he w Ls outâ€"in fact, he s always out, and she s never seen him f1 om the dzLy he gm e her the ï¬rst cheque to this. Many a time when she was raging like a fury in the outer ofï¬ce he was sitting inside stroking his beard and grinning, just like a cat clean- ing it’s whiskers after chewing up a. mouse. “But he wasn’t always in. He went down to Lullingford for a few days’ ï¬shing, and managed to scrape an acquaintance with Mr. James Redmond. He didn’t say anything to him then, but last week when he heard that the police were watching Mrs. Redmond, and 11le found her out pawning some jewels she hadn’t paid for, he goes down to Lullingford again, and tells Redmond that it’s his painful duty to in form him that his ward, Miss Grahame, is carrying on in London with a woman of suspected character. And now he and Red- mond and the police are all working it to- gether for their wn ends. Do you see '3" “ No, I don’t uite,†said Grifï¬ths. ““7011, I’ll just tell you what will happen to-morrowas sure as ever the sun rises. They will be taken into custody when they go out of the lloiiée in the afternoon : that’s what will happen to~morr0w. The day after to-morrow they’ll be brought before the magistrate, and be charged with fraud. Redmond’s solicitor will step forward and afï¬rm that Mis: Grahame is a young lady of unsound mind, who ran away from schaol after playing a mad freak, and has taken refuge with Mrs. Merrivale~whonl Mr. Redmond, 01 course, will never in all his life have seen beforeâ€"and been an unwary tool in the hands of that unprincipled woman. “Possibly Miss Grahame will be discharg- ed ; if not she will certainly be let off on bail, and in either case she will be snugly placed in the hands of that sconndrel Red- mond. Mrs. Merrivale will be committed for trial without doubt. That’s what will happen the day after to-morrow. “\Vhat will follow in due course is just as certain. Mrs. Merrivaleiliedmondâ€"v will go to geol, Miss Grahzune will die, and the governor will get ï¬ve thousand pounds from the Providence Insurance Company for the nemest job he has ever had the good fortune L0 [all in with.†Lute as the lmur "as when Grifï¬ths part- ed from the amiable Mr. Levy, he went to the Charing Cross Hotel, and in a pri at»: interview with Mr. Petersen laid the whole case clearly before him. TO THE Rn, in: ! It was stricking ten as Eric Peterson Inf: the Charing Cross Hotel and hailed a hansum, running tox 'zu'ds the cab as he called to the driver. l Eric ran down to the Eel). One of the l labourers was now standing by the kerb, 1 about a. yard ahead of the cal). The other \ had quitted the wall to grace the lamp post. i If Mrs. Merrivale had come out to the cab she would have stood but a poor chance of escape between the two. “St. John’s “Vood,†he said putting :1 clearlyâ€"written address in the man’s hand. “I will give you a. soverign if you drive quickly. †A His father and his sister had followed him quickly (101111 the stairs. The 0111) was turn- 11111 10111111 and facing them 113 they came to the111101‘.'1he gii'f \\ 1th 101 11 1111111101112 in 1111' face, W1 wed her 11111111 111 6111,0111 111101111111 the fuche also waved his 11111111, 1001111115: 111 his (1e111' 5011 1111011011 the team that (111111.191 his siurht 1‘11 10 saw 110111111†hut 11 vision of the :rirl he 11111110 82ch 110111 11e 11111. '1 hem 111111 been 11. thick fog in the streets 1111 night 71.116 first (11 the season: it 1111.11 lift- 01111111110, 111111 hung over the houses in 11 copper canopy, but it 111111 10ft the 1011115 greasy. It \ '115 maddening to sit 1191111111 the 81111111111115; horse with the knowiedge that the dearest life in the world might be lost by (161:1 7. ) V“Rouds very bad, sir, this morning, ’ said the driver, apologetically, through the trap. “\Ve shall be all right soon’s we get off the stones.†So it proved. The copper cloud became gray, the sun standing out sharp and flat like a red wafer; the horse spanked along the hard dry macadam, making up for lost time, leaving everything 011 wheels behind. At length the cab drew in towards the kerb and pulled up sharp before a house that stood back from the road, screened by a shrubbery and a couple of ï¬r trees. On the gate post was the name of the houseithe Pines. As Eric stepped quickly from the cab, he cast an eager glance at the windows of the house Visible above the shrubs. The face he sought was not there. Then he glanced to the right and left. Against a lamp post at the corner of the street to the left a man looking like a labourer out of \\ ork stood, a pipe in the corner of his mouth, his hands in his brooches pockets; against the “all hard by a mate leant; he was intent on cleaning his pipe With a straw and never raised his eyes. The fellow against the post just shifted his shoulder against the post to look in dull curiosity at the cab. \Vithont a doubt, they were police in (lis- guise waiting to arrest Mrs. Merrivale and Miss Grahame. “ Thank God I am not too late 1" said Eric to himself, as he passed the gate and approached the house. \Vhile he stood at the door, one of the two mt 11 from the street corner slouehed past the open gate and cast an eye at him. “ Miss Grahame’s not at home, sir,†said the man servant ; “ she went out about half an hour ago. †“I wish to see Miss Grahame at once,†said Eric as the door opened. Eric’s hveart felIâ€"“ And Mrs. Merrivale,†he faltered. “No, sir, she’s in. Miss Grahame went out with the riding master alone.†That explained {he presence of the detec- tives. They had let the girl slip for fear of losixlg ï¬lm. grpaler culpyit. ~ “I thinkvshe’s gone in the park for her lesson ; she generally does.†The young man, added. “You might meet her if you went. in by the Marlborough Road way.†“Marlborough Road,†said Eric, as he stepped into the hansom, and then lifting the trap when the cab had gone a hundred yards, he added, “I want to ï¬nd alady who has gone into the park with a man to have a. riding lesson." “Right you are, sir. I think I yknow the most likely place to look for’ em. He turned into the park. The sky ygrew brighter. The sun “as ladiant now and sparkled in the moistuie that beaded the bare twigs of the trees. Only a. thin mist softened the distance. The young man’s heart grew brighter too, and his eyes sparkled with eager hope. Presently the trap was lifted. “There’s a. lady and gentleman on ahead, Slr, and there’s no groom,†said the driver. Eric had already discovered them. “Yes, that is she,†he answered, tremb- ling with emotion ; “they are coming this wa V. Stop when she is near.†They cahw on at a. gentle canter. Before the cab stopped, Eric sprang out and stood in the road before them. There was no one else within ï¬fty yards. It was clear that this young gentleman had business with them, and they reined in instinctively. “You must hear me,†said Erie, laying his hand on the reins in desperation as she moved. “ Do you venture, sir-*" she began. “ Oh, I will venture anythiiigâ€"weven at the risk of your anger. Listenv†She (11‘0“:1HLCk indignantly as he pressed towards herside ; hut $110 heard the words he whispered under hisï¬n‘cath : “ The po- lice ave waiting down there to seize you and give you into the hands of James Hedmonu.†Do you know what Duty is ? It is what we exact from others. CHAPTER XII (TO BE (JQXTINUEI).) «Vow _ Now that certe‘k, " the English newspap indignation at the arranges†.. the East African difï¬culties; m- Lord Salisbury and Gen. Cap‘rivx that the English Parliament will iii?» \_ action of its premier, if it is called up. i take such a step, and that for some on,“ come harmony will exist in the colonial 1:3 ’3; , tious of the two greatest of the Europefl; powers. The assignment of Heligoland 10‘" Germany is of no loss to England, except in. its sentimental aspect. These two islands, twenty-five miles from the mouth of the Elbe river, have an area. of threeâ€"quarters of a. square mile, and a population of about 2000. They have been utilized for years past as a summer resort, and this chiefly by the Ger- mans. As a defence to the Elbe they have an undeniable value, and the report that the German government proposes to spend $10,000,000 in erecting fortiï¬ca- tions upon them is not by any means improb< able. It is possible that, in the agreement of transfer, Lord Salisbury provided that ‘ the inhabitants of Heligoland should be relieved from the compulsory military service that is a part of the German system. If some such arrangements as this were not made, the people of Heligoland, as citizens of the British empire, might justly complain that they had been sacrificed through no fault of their own, but merely to bring about the settlement of a disputed question on the coast of Africa. Indeed, a precedent may be established, if care has not been taken in the way we suggest, which will have a weakening force on the English 1 colonial system. The inhabitants of the smaller colonies of (ircat Britain may see in the readiness of an English premier to trade them oil, the possibility of decidedly un» pleasant future complications; and if, as German immigrants allege, one of the chief reasons why youngr men leave the fatherâ€" land is the desire to escape the compulsory military service, the young men of Heligo- ‘ land may complain that their rights which they enjoy under the British constitution have received but scant attention. How- ever this may be, the transfer, looked at in their ways, has been an advantageous bar- gain for the English if in exchange they are ‘ granted what is practically a protectorate over Zanzbiar, and the control on the lines laid down of a large section of disputed teri- tory in East Africa. The lines are somewhat dimly deï¬ned in the cable reports of this af- fair that have thus far reached us ; but it would seem that, so far as the continent of Africa is concerned, England had been obliged to give as well as take, and that, although Mr. Stanley may praise the settleâ€" ment as one of beneï¬t to his associates who are interested in the East African Company, quite a section of the territory now oifered to Germany is that which owed its early, and until recently its only, development to English adventure and enterprise. The probable outcome will be renewed effort on the part of the representatives of both of these great nations to build up settlements in tropical Africa. The ellort is one which in the end will be of advantage to mankind, since, under the conditions that have thus far existed, this part of Africa was of neces- sity given over to barbarism, with no good to the outside world, and with no appreci- able advantage to its native inhabitants. The dissatisï¬ed inhabitants of the west- ern and northern portion of Newfoundland have resolved to try to settle their fisheries difï¬culties by a bold stop. They propose that the island be politically divided, their end of it being annexed to the Dominion of Canada. \Vhile some of them are said to prefer annexation to the United States, they know that Great Britain would not consent to surrender to that country the key to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and they accept the nextbest thing, annexation to Canada. which is only forty miles from them. They propose a partition line from Cape Ray on the South- west to Cape John on the Northeast. The dissatisfiedNewfoundlanders have sentapetiâ€" tion to the queen, in which they inform her majesty that they are separated from the cap- ital of Newfoundland, St. John’s by an impassable wilderness of 400 miles ; that they are taxed excessively for beneï¬ts which are unavailable; they are in abso~ lute want of roads, bridges, ferries, wharves, quays, breakwaters and rail- roads. They declare that the trade in- terests of St. John’s are in opposition to theirs, while those of Canada are in harmony with the petitioners’. They assert that they believe annexation to Canada essential as a community. France would have no snbstan» tial reason for interposing objections to the project. Its accomplishment would in a. short time end the disputes about the ï¬sh- eries which are growing more formidable by reason of owners of lobster plants refusing to be bullied into compliance with the English- French bargain. It is not improbable that seine of the factories will be closed by the joint orders of the commanders of the fleets, and diplomatic difficulties will then follow in the suits which will be brought against the British government fordamages. Canada naturally desires annexation of the French shore, and our commissioner in London will probably exert himself in favor of the petiâ€" tion. A cable dispatch dated London, July 5th, thus graphically describes the present agri- cultural situation in England : “England is likely to require all the cereals that Canada and the United States can send her this year, for the continued wet weather and the cold, blighting winds are rapidly destroying our own crops. Hay is rotting on the ground. “heat is getting mildewed. The ï¬elds are being turned into ponds. Nothing is ripening. As for the fruit, nearly all we get comes, like most other things, from abroad. we are more and more dependent on forei 11 supplies for provisions and deliâ€" cacies 0% every kind. Every year makes the prospect worse and worse for the Eng- lish farmer. Fortune seemed likely to be more favourable the present season, but rain set in and has scarcely ceased since the beginning of June. The country is wrap: ped in gloom. The absence of summer is also dealing a heavy blow at trade of all kinds, especially among the \Vest end shops. At the large and fashionable milliners much patronized by American visitors, the shut- ters might as well be up. London is full of strangers. Rural excursions end in their getting drenched, and a heavy pall hangs over London. The visitors, flying in des- 1 pair, proceed to Paris, where the weather is not much better, though the amusements of the city are.†The Newfoundland Difï¬culty. T ll 8‘ Kit-30““; . Crop Prospects in England. l. C