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s// rfi++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ti @@©@ Or, A Grea .‘1334434344$444++++++ CHAPTER XX.â€"(Continued). f‘Suddcnly, something occurred to my ’mind. Not long before we left Nice a trainer disagreeable incident occurred. A1.- old friend of mine. who also knew ‘CEI‘IIOH, had taken upon himself to sbeak to me of the life the young fellow diad been leading. “‘Now that your daughter is engaged to him,‘ he said, ‘I hope he will settle down and cut loose from his old friends and associates.‘ "I suppose I replied a little shortly, for in the end we had rather an argu- ment, which ended in his telling me that he doubted if Carlton were even then leading a decent life or behaving as the man who was engaged to my daughter should behave. “‘Why, I was in his chalnbcrs the other day in town,’ he said, ‘I called on him unexpectedly, and his rooms are filled with photographs of some of the worst women in town. This, perhaps. would not be so bad in itself had he the decency to at least hide Miss Gaunt's picture, which was, on the contrary. displayed rather prominently.' “Well, I was not. pleased with this Conversation at the time, but I did not take so much notice as I should have done, for my friend was a man of ex- ceedingly puritanical views. I.-. knew. It; would consider an actress, even of talent, quite an impossible person; and I imagined he was exaggerating in his ‘ istory. Carlton had probably been guilty -of an act of very bad taste, but no worse, I thought, and I put the matter from my mind for the time. _“\Vhen I looked around the room that night in Regent Street, however, the conversation recurred to me. There were no photographs there on this occa- sion ; but my eye caught various marks on the walls and on the plush which covered the mantelshclf, which told me that certainly some had only lately been removed. “Why have you removed your photo- graphs ?” I said. “Vivienne looked up in surprise, and Carlton flushed and staminered. I “Ilis confusion made me doubt him for the first time, and I felt myself growing 7 '«angry. ‘ my visit, and to do so, I am afraid, rather roughly, when suddenly the door in the hall opened, and a girl looked quickly into the room. “‘Hullo, Claude, old man 1" she said, and then suddenly noticing us, she stop- ped, gave a bold look around, and stood for a moment staring at‘ Vivienne. “She was painted and over dressed, though pretty; and Vivienne’s eyes turn- cc. to mine in sudden disgust. Ilooked at Carlton. I never saw a man so over- whelmed, and yet, Colonel Gordon, now that I come to think of it under the light' of subsequent events, I am not sure that there was not more wonder and amaze- ment in his face than’ any other expres-‘ cion. l :‘ ‘Good God,’ he said. ‘what‘s this?‘ fBut the girl left him no time to speak. With a laugh and a quick ‘Another: TIIIKFSOI‘I‘)’ you’re engaged.’ she noddch to him, and left the room. We heard heri rustling down the passage, and we heard the front door close behind her before4 anyone looked up again. “I was the first to break the silence; laeriVienne's eyes were flashing and I saw that the incident had further affected her already overwrought nerves. ‘ ‘I cannot regret that this has hap- pened, Mr. Carlton,’ I said, ‘for 11 has made it easy for me to say what other- !tvise might have been difficult. I am Sorry to tell you you must consider your engagement to my daughter at an end. “Carlton turned white and started for- ward suddenly. “‘Good God I’ he cried. ‘But why? why? ' Because ofâ€"because of that wo- man? Why, I swear to you that I don‘t oven know her i” “I stopped him quickly. ‘Do not lie,’ Ii “1 was about to brooch the subject of] said. ‘But at all events, tell me this, and I regret to ask you the question in the presence of my daughter hereâ€"Do you (now Mary Charters ‘3' “For a moment Carlton atfcmnted to, pull himself together, and it was then forl the first time that I noticed he had been‘ drinking. He look-ed imploringly at me,~ and then turned to Vivienne; but the? expression in her eyes of anger and‘ contempt made him bend his head. i “‘ch,’ he said. I ""l‘henâ€"but you dared to enter a dc-. cent man's house and ask for his dough-3 1ter's hand, while that story was true 1" .‘I cried furiously. “Ile flushed, and then, turning from, me, stepped towards Vivienne. I “‘\ivicnne, I loved you,’ he said, ‘Il Stove you.‘ away from him. Then, quickly draw- ing herself up, she flashed her eyes atlmcrcy of each instant. lulu. in anger and contempt. _ .\nd you dare to speak to me!‘ said. “Carlton staggered at her tone and 'tllt' expression on her fare. He had al tad temper, as l have told you, and no my and fcar in her eyes; she was hard- was, as I have also said. under the ins fluencc of drink . to blame; and l have, God help me thought since that he might not have been so much at. fault as everything then seemed to show. But however that N at Guilty ; c+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ piece and staggered back dazed. , _ l0l‘t‘)‘0tl. “\ ivienne sliuddcred and drew licmclf_\\'as all that I could think: my daughter ‘ncvcr doubled it was she that struck the she‘lilowâ€"how could I? idone it but slic‘.’~aiid had not hcr \vords’ even seemed to tell me so. _ The situation was annoment I expected her to fall senseless. oiuel one for him, however much he wusjbshcr seized one arm. and I took the @@@@ t Mistake. ++++++++++++++++++++ may be, nothing can excuse his subsc- qt-ent conduct. " ‘ "Then you throw me ovcr? he cried furiously. ' “I did not reply, and Vivienne turning in contempt from his tone, his spoiled- nature got the upper hand, and he turned in a. moment intoâ€"there, are no other words to describe his conditionâ€"a raving madman. On a tablanear the (ILOI' were scattered some knives and weapons which he was fond of collect- ing, and seizing one of these he coin- nienccd to flourish it wildly. livery .in- slant I feared he was about to stab hun- self to the heart, and I was moving for- ward to seize him, when he flung the weapon back again on to the table with a cultse and a bitter laugh, and commenced a wild speech in which he insulted \'ivicnne and uttered iinprcca- tions on myself. “I had taken Vivienne by the hand to lead her away, when, roused apparently IN a condition of frenzy in which be for- got all sense of decency, Carlton uttered the words which brought about all the tragedy. “1 cannot tell you what he said, but I must tell you something. ('oloncl Gor- don, which, though it is painful for me to tell, is, unfortunately, well enough known, and is necessary to my story. “I regret to say that my wife is-is not \vcrthy to be Vivienne‘s mother. She left me some years ago, and-and her subsequent behaviour has embittered my life and saddened Vivienne's, who was dcvotedly attached to her. I can forgive Carlton much. I can remember his fur- ious and uncontrollable temper, and the unhappy condition he was in, but, dead as he is, poor fellow, I can never forget the insult he paid to Vivienne and my- self. “‘60 then,’ he cried furiously, ‘I am well rid of you.’ and then came half a dozen words which no one but a mad- man, as he was then, would have_dal‘ed to utter. “Wild with anger I sprang forward to strike him, but Vivienne was before me, facing him with blazing eyes. “You coward l' she cried. “And then suddenly, without a warn- ing, the electric light went out and the room was in utter darkness. “I heard a swift movement, a cry, a struggle, and then a deep groan; some heavy body fell to the ground, and all was still. “Startlcd and confused, I stood for a moment liesitating. Then I attempted to grope my way to where I remembered the door to be. I had not gone three stops when I stumbled and fell over a body on the floor. I felt my hands wet with some warm and sticky liquid which made me shudder and spring again to my foot. I called out wildly and rushed forward, but the room was in utter darkness and strange to me. I stiuck the sharp corner of the mantel» Man a. I was, for a second I could have screamed like a child. And turn, as suddenly as it went out, the electric light flashed on again, almost blinding me with its glare. “And what a sight met my eyes. On the floor lay Carlton, stabbed to the heart, and covered with blood. Kneelâ€" ing beside him, with her face pale as death, and her eyes turned to my hands with an expression which I shall never forget, was Vivienne. ‘ ‘Father I’ she cried wildly. ‘Oh, say its not true! It can‘t beâ€"it can't be true! But, oh Godi It was my fault. It was I! It was I!‘ “And then we both turned; for there, standing in the doorway, looking at us with his cold green eyes, was Usher. “lie remained there for a moment, looking from Vivienne to me, and then he came forward. “‘I thought I heard a cry,’ he said. “Then he saw the body on the floor, and seemed to take in the situation at a glance. “There is not an instant to lose,’ he said, looking at neither of us in particu- lar. ‘This may be discovered at any moment. Even now someone may be coming upstairs. I can save you both. You must let me think and arrange for you. Come, you must leave [it‘l'C iii-- stantly. lie is quite dead. sec! there is no question about that. There is only one chance: instant flight. You can hesitate, you can decide, lillCI‘. Now you must come I' “I began to slammcr something. but the man‘s devilish quickness guarded him. "l'hink of your daughter.’ he said,, am; turning to me: ‘Look at youri hands,’ he said. “He seized mekby the arm. where to take you,’ he said. “Dazed, overwhelmed, \‘ivicnne had ‘I knew, ‘lioiiicl' helpless, I kilch the man had kilch him, and her life was at the (iod help me. Il \\'lio could have: “\"ivicnne was staring at me with ll’Jl‘- ly conscious. I could see, and cverv “\\'e descended the stairs cautiously, laud trembling at every sound. “At the door Usher stepped forward and l"IOl\'(‘tl out. and I peered Over his shoulder. [utter a lamp-post, not tell yards away, stood a knot of young mcn laughing and talking. I turned to look at \"ivienni‘. She was lying iiiscnsible on the ground. I'sher muttcrcd an oath and stood for a second biting his finv gcrs. .- “‘\\'c cannot carry her,‘ he said, ‘lhcy wil' see us.’ “Even as we spoke three. of the young men left the group and came directly towards us. “"l‘hcy mush-not see her!” whispered Usher. '_-\t any Cost that must be pre- vented.‘ And quick as lightning he drew nr.‘ out into the street, slammed the door behind him, and walked me swiftly on, talking loudly in an easy voice. “ ‘\\'0 can go back as soon as we have lost sight of them,’ he whispered between two sentences. “But we were. not to get off so easily; and his very cleverness was his undo- ing. for almost directly we heard a slininbling step come after us, and a thick uncertain voice hailed Usher by his; name. “startled, we both swung around, and saw before us one of the young men who had caused the conti‘ctemps. lie was a young fellow in evening dress with a very flushed face and lie all awry, and there was no doubt he had been drinking heavily. “Just come from .limmy‘s,’ he said, thickly. ‘Oomc along. Usher, old boy, I am going back there.’ Usher nodded ahd smiled. ‘Can‘t just now, Wilson,’ he said, carelessly, ‘wc are just off somewhere.‘ “‘Alright,‘ said the young fellow cheer- fully, ‘I will come too.’ “Usher ground his teeth, and for a moment I thought he would strike the man. But be restrained himself with an effort. “ ‘I am sorry, Wilson,‘ he said, suave- ly. “but not to-night. Tomorrow I will (I: what you like.‘ "‘To-morrow be hanged !' returned the young man. ‘To-morrow'sh long way off. May never even see to-mor- row. Who's your [at friend? Introduce me. and we'll make a night of it.’ “Usher turned away and caught my arm. ‘Comc on,’ he said, ‘and leave this foolâ€"' “The young fellow had dropped his cane. and was groping drunkenly for it on the pavement, but he looked up as Usher spoke. “‘\\'ho's a fool I‘ he said. ‘Always knew you were a cad, Usâ€"Usâ€"Ushcr. Come and fight l’ , “Usher shrugged his shoulders and drew me on, the young man following. “‘Yes, yes, come and fight, if you're so damn clever,’ he called after us, recl- ing along. ‘Your friend’ll see fair do's.’ “Usher did not reply or turn his head, but we increased our pace in the hope that we should shake off our unwelcome companion, while we wondered vainly what was happening to Vivienne. "But there is nothing so obstinate as a tipsy man who gets an idea into his head. This young fool had taken um- brngc at Usher's remark. and with the persistence of the offended drunkard, was determined not to be shaken off. “\\'e increased our speed till we were almost running, but still our pursuer shambled after us: reeling and tripping, l-ut resolved; we turn-ed, and meeting him. attempted to argue him into leav- ing us to ourselves, but it was useless; he would fight Usher or continue to pursue us, and nothing else would satis- fy him. I believe Usher would have willingly fought a dozen of him. and I am sure I would, but to fight in the pubâ€" lic streets meant a crowd, and who knew what more besides; and we were at our wits' end. “Ileaven knows how far we took that drunkcn idiot that night, wandering round and round (choosing the more do- scrled streets, for fear that he should take it into his head to change his tac- tics and become more obstrepcrous), never daring to go far from the scene of the crime, yet fearful to go near be- cause of our drunken friend's pursuit. “It was not until we had been walk- ir-g for, I should think, nearly an hour, that Usher, who had been thinking deeply, at length came to any decision: ‘This will never end as it is,’ he said at length. ‘And the risk is terrible. I in- tended to take both you and your dangli- for to a place which I know of, and where you would be in saftcly; this maniac has spoilt that idea. There is only one thing to be done; you must go there by yourself, leaving me to settle with liiiil.‘ “l commenced to exposfulate, but he continued :â€"‘lt is you that are the dan- ger at the present moment. With that blood on your hands, and nervous as you look, any attention attracted to you wt’uld be fiilul. 'l‘liat idiot will not trouble about you if you leave me, and when you are clear away I will settle with him pretty quickly.’ He smiled savagely. ‘llc shall have all he wants. Then I will return to the flat, fetch your daughter. and follow you.’ “‘l’nit‘wliy should I not go there my- self“? I said. “With these bands. and trembling and agitated as you arc,’ he. said. ‘Grod heavens. that would certainly be fatal. You might be seen entering, or found there. and the whole story must came out; while I. can easily excuse myself. I could have in. possible quarrel with Carlton, and I had no appointment with him which could transpire and connect me with the» murder. As for Miss Gaunt. take my word. I shall gi-t her away unobserved, no one. will suspect her of the crime.’ “In the end he succeeded in Convincing me that he was right. and 1 yielded. lle gave me an address, whispered low enough to escape the car of our pcrli- nacious follower. grasped my hand, and panting to a cab which I hailed. ad- viscd me to keep my hands in my pock- ets. drive as near as was safe to the house he mentioned. and lie low until other. though I myself had little know- 11,. came, lulge of what I did. “I wonder now. of C‘TIIl's". how I could have alluwcd myself to have been guided and nicked so absolutely by such it even if I were secu,’ scoundrel, but you must remember that he was the only absolutely cool-headed one of the lot of us. Carlton's death alone would have been sufficient to up- set me; I had been worried and harassed when I wriit to the poor boy‘s rooms that night; and, in addition. I had, or thought I had, the llOl‘l‘ilili‘ knowledge that my daughter, in an (iiilburst of ill» most justifiable anger, inuddcncd by a cruel insult, had stabbed to thc llf‘ill‘l, a man whom we had both been fond of, and who had so nearly been her hus- band. It was true, as Usher said, that the blood upon my hands \vouhl con- \ict. me at once should I be discovered near Carlton's rooms, if anyone knew already 0f the murder; while Vivienne. who was at all events safely out of the flat, might easily escape suspicion if seen, and, at all events, would certainly be less open to danger with Usher than with myself; for, as he said, and as I thought then, what possible quarrel could he have \vith Usher? “Yes, the devilish coolness of that man mastered me then, and it amazes me now, (toloncl Gordon, as I sr‘e it aston- ishcs you. too; and the more I realize what he did that night, the more I tinder- stand the fact that I never for one second suspected the real truth. “As I lay in that cage. there. with the knowledge of his treachery broken to tlll' for the first time by your inlcrvcir lion and his abduction of myself from Minden Lane, I have pieced it all out, going through the different scenes of that night again and again; with every look and incident recalled to my mind as cleariy as when it occurred, and I can see it all, or nearly all. And yet, strangely enough, with all his clever- ness, with all his cold and calculating wickedness, it was Fate, after all, which brought about what might have been, but for you, the complete triumph of his plans. For the tragedy, the final tra- gcdy of that scene in the flat in ltcgcnt Street could not have been foreseen by one even cleverer than be, though with lightning astulcncss he seized on his opportunity and used it to further his schemes. He could not have foreseen Carlton's murdcr, though it was ticâ€"yes, it was he, the villain !â€"â€"who committed it; and he could not have foreseen (Zarl- ton's mad insult, or the terrible doubt which came to both Vivienne and myself when we realized that the boy was dead. “But he foresaw much, nay, he plan- ncd it. It was he, I cannot doubt it now, who wrote, or caused to be written, the anonymous letters which upset Vivienne; it was he who sent that poor girl, Mary Charters, to us with her story, which I fear was only too true; it was he, I have thought since, remem- bcring poor Carlton's amazed look, who planned that that other girl should burst into the room when he knew that Vivi- enne and I would be there. And his objcet? Ah, that is clear enough now! Vivienne will be a rich woman, and, with her affections free, any woman may to won. Usher. I see it now, must have hated poor Carlton and wished. him out of the way; and he planned the scene that night. It was at the scene that his plans stopped, however; his quickness and devilish calculation helped him with the rest. (To be continued). ’ 2% “SKY-FLYING TAI’GII’I‘ HERE." Institutions “’hcre the Management of Balloons is Taught. A few months ago a school was opened at Clicninitz, Germany, for theoretical and practical training in the construction and management of air- ships. The director, Ilcrr Paul Spicgel, is a man of exceptional ability and of broad experience in every phase of bal- loon construction and management. Ilc has made over 600 ascents. The tuition for a year‘s course has been fixed at $150, payable in monthly instalments. Examination will be held at the close of the course next April, and certificates of proficiency will be given the graduates. The training will be confined almost exclusively to the field of balloon construction and operation. In France more is no actual school for training acronauts in which a definite course is pursued. Such practice and instruction in aerostation as offered is proy'ided by the clubs and by the government in connection with the mil- itary service. In Paris there are four important aeronautical societies or ballooning clubs, and five similar organizations ex- is“. elscy’vhcrc in France. 'I‘hcsc clubs were created for the promotion and practice of ballooning as a sport, as well as for scientific study and experiments. In some of these young men are given practical training, taught the theory and construction and use of balloons, their proper care and navigation. If the stud-cuts acquire a certain pro- ficiency and pass a prescribed examina- tion, they are pcl‘iiiittcd, when drawn for military service, to enter the Bataillon d‘Acrosticrs, established in the old zoo- logical garden located between \‘cr- saillcs and St. Cyr. The post is under the control of a commandant, and the men are taught and practise the hand- ling and care of the Government bal- iloons. of which there are several of a capacity of less than 000 cubic metres. . The second and more important iii- stiluTiOii of this kind in France is known as the litablisscinent Central dii Materiel di: l'Acroslation Militaire, at Chablis- hicudon. midway between Paris and Vcisaillcs. It has been in existence nearly It‘ll) years, and is divided into two general departmentsâ€"the factory where the balloons and equipments are made, iand the department of tests and expert-i lincnls. There is no definite (‘iilll‘SC of‘ instruction. It was there that Colonel ;ll.:nai'd hvcnty-lhi'ee years built, ‘and expcriineiilml with La France, lily." III‘:I dil‘igiblc balloon. v >1 '1 r‘ “EH .Ir xson~“llc:iven bless him! He, showed confidence in me wh ll the; clouds wv'rc dziik (ind tzii't-u’vifiiigjl ’\\"i"..~'onâ€"“lii who". way?" .Idc'itsvil â€"’ “lie lent me an umbrella!" l *fH‘thtfthf ff f++ ++f++ About the Farm ¢ §+¢++++++++e++++++t++t [{I‘Il‘ll‘th‘. _\ I!lt.\.\'r‘.ll OI" l’.\lt.\l \\'(:lltl\'. ++f§++++v +++++++++1 l’tlliI/l‘llY When a farmer is I~illll.l “10 in; hens in the barnyard, simply because it is an old custom he learned from boy- hood, y-Ju will be sure to find a man who docs not trike the interest in each individual branch of farmingr that he should. Many failures which might; otherwise be avoided are caused by at- tempting too much without having ex- perience. A profit should be derived from all things on the farm, and the necessary details in the raising of poulv fry cannot be attended to without a knowledge of poultry raising in all its‘ individqu lint-s. Any farmer who keeps fowls on tho farm, and there are not many who do not, must study the individual characteristic of lhc birds as well as he doc»- the \\':illl.\' (if his other stock, and then there will be more pro- fit from poultry. So many seem to think they must have poultry on the farm to supply the house with eggs and fowls for the table, but they rare- Iy stop to consider that if a little more care were bestowed on those birds, be- sides having all the eggs they needed.! they would have enough to sell, amtz while they were having chickens for, dinner they might. as well have that money for some nice. healthy birds. from the same flock which they have sold to someone who did not have any.l There is great profit in poultry, more} for the capital invested than for any} other stock. proportionately, if thei birds are. attended to, but when fowls! are allowed to roam and eat only rc-l [use fiom the barnyard, drink muddy,l filthy water, if they lay enough eggs fol supply the farmer's table he may comi sider himself lucky. The farmer shouldl, learn, the particular breeds and lhciri uses, and also make a specialty of those. that are best suited to his climate. The best breeds for laying will, in all prod bability, produce a failure unless theyl are surrounded by conditions suitable for success. The common barnyard stock is not as good as any olhcr. So: many farmers will not remove that" stumbling block, and as long as they cling to former conditions and old cus-_ toms in the poultry business they will: most surely fail to improve along other other lines. Good houses, warm quar‘ ters, cleanliness, pure water, careful se- tection of breeding stock, culling out stock, systematic feeding, and proper attention, all are conductive to the suc- cess of raising poultry on the farm; l’owls should be ready for sale whom the best season arrives, as to get the, advantage of high prices, and they will not be in proper condition, nor (an they be gotten into that condition in a few days. unless daily care is beâ€" stowed. The farmer must work from day to day with the object in view, and then and only then will he be success“ fiil with poultry. FARM NOTES. We should not be satisfied with half crops or depend upon poor stock. It is easy to grade up our stock to a higher standard of production. All these things are the farmer's aids, and he must make them as good as he can. Don't leave home on every lowcry day and fritler away valuable hours ati places of public resort, when there is' so much work to be done about the premises. Make a memorandum of ut- tle items of work to be done on rainy days. Suppose you should get wot a littleâ€"rain will not injure you. The day is not for distant when the tiller of the soil will be not only the honest or independent farmer, but the intelligent man. He will dignity and be honored by the labor with head and hand, which will give him wealth and his home will be graced with coni- fort and refinement. But we must be content and bear in mind that all such improved conditions come, by steady application and are of steady gu-owth.I They are not made to order. ‘ Having spoiled my cattle for the last twenty years, I have learned something in a practical way, of the nutritive value of plants, writes a correspon-l dent. With corn, my greatest success,’ all things considered, was from broadJ cast seeding, two bushels to the acre.l making a magnificent growth in stalk,‘ leaf and color; four acres cut and placed! in shock, wintering lliirlcen head oil cattle to the first of April, without grab? and with only an occasional feed 4 bay. If. as is said. such corn is worth 1(s< stuff, my stock must have died; ir fact. they came through in fair oondi lion. In giving this test I am not ad vocaling the feeding of corn exclusively! in any form. BRIS’I‘L’I‘S. Keep salt. charcoal and sulphur in every pig pen and pig yzii'd. (lleanhncs: and pure clc'iii water are L‘iSCIIlJtlLS in 1an can. ,,[ Inge lluidiwviod ifsllC‘s {:10 fine for giving strength t. the hem-s. .\ Iilllzy lln," pvii is :in llH'i‘i‘l‘ of dis. ease and alibile not be inli‘l'ulc'j' 'l'im lt~~f ii '11.." iul‘ n a , hog L, jlinl l4) 3- l “3 iiill i‘eii‘ziin from {whimr l..iii l... li‘.'l.\ as if he were ‘.i:ii,_‘.\‘. ' "aw-wt 4 . (wii'i'y bit-citing and tho 3t“ 1,- .::<:ii‘3lail'll}' lying. lpiii', ll.;‘ Lion {my pl‘ alfalfa. luv-nigh ui i}