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T is not a great deal, of course; Fred would
think it nothing; but I shall make it go
pretty far-over the Alps and into Italy, I
contemplate."

So spoke Geoffrey, lying on his back
with his hands under his head and his eyes
fixed on the sky above.

"She was on the verge of a full confession, but I am determined not to understand hints or plainer talk. I shall give her back to Meredith as he gave her to me under faith to him. But only God knows my own sufferings," he added, with something like a groan.

He had forgotten the heat, and was trudging away under the fierce sun like a man with a tremendous journey Is there any place so charming as an old before him, looking always on the hard-baked ground of orchard on a Summer afternoon? the country-road into which he had turned from the old orchard. On a sudden he heard a footstep, and, lifting his eyes, saw a girl.

Miss Kirkwood was thinking, her novel lying face downward in her lap, and her thoughts-where ?

No doubt with her affianced, Fred Meredith, who is expected to-night or to-morrow. And a rather long silence followed, and then said the lady : "I suppose you wish you had Fred's money." "It might not buy me everything I should like to own. Apropos of Fred, I shall not be here at the wedding. You and I are such old friends that

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"That what ?" she ventured, after waiting a minute for the conclusion, picking up the book again, and reading some lines with the greatest attention, although I do not think she could have told what they were about

"I don't like to attend the marriages of old friends any more than their funerals. I am pretty certain never to return from Europe, and I prefer my last recollections to be of Bessie Kirkwood and not of Mrs. Meredith."

"I

"The marriage may never come off," she said, with a half-laugh, a little nervous, almost a little choking. never professed to really love Fred Meredith. He is handsome and rich, and I think, good; but beyond respect and liking there is, I assure you, on my part, nothing. And I can tell you this, also, Geoffrey," she added, "that I have met some I like better."

"You have no business, my dear, to like any one better," returned Geoffrey, sturdily. "I think I promised to see to that while Fred was away. But you are not in earnest."

She was quite pretty, but thin and delicate, and rather poorly dressed, and, it seemed, almost ready to sink with fatigue.

"Do you know where I can get a drink of water, sir ?" she said.

"Up at the house, I think," he returned, a little gruffly, and indicating over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Mrs. Kirkwood's, isn't it? I am going there, sir. Can you tell me whether Mr. Meredith has yet returned from Europe ?"

Something odd in the girl's manner struck Geoffrey. She looked as if she had a purpose before her; there was, indeed, a sort of menace in her tone.

"He has not; but is expected-shortly. May I ask if your business is of great importance? Since Mr. Meredith has been away I have been attending to his affairs. I am his confidential friend."

"I hear that he is going to marry the young lady, Miss Kirkwood, and I'll die but I'll prevent it," said the girl, with a sudden fury. "I have a bundle of his letters, and I intend to give them to her ;" and she drew from her bosom a little package of white enveloped missives tied with pink ribbon. "Here are his promises to me in his own handwriting-his oaths, sir;" and she began crying and sobbing hysterically, reiterating all sorts of wild threats.

At last Geoffrey succeeded in calming the tempest "I am. There are men in this world whom I could somewhat, and then followed an explanation-the old, sad love with a little encouragement."

story; and when he had heard, and they had talked a

"If you mean Dr. Morris, I can assure you that he is while, and the girl was more rational, he said: impregnable."

She bit her lip and looked hard at the book. "I do not mean Dr. Morris."

Perhaps it was too warm to pursue the subject further, for Geoffrey closed his eyes and seemed to be falling asleep.

The rustle of a dress roused him again, and, glancing about, he saw Miss Kirkwood in the act of disappearance through the files of fruit-trees.

He sat up, with hands clasped about his knees, and a strange look upon his face, and, after a long pause, he said:

"Miss Wood, your case is melancholy indeed, but I fear hopeless. Meredith will never marry you, it is certain, and from your own confession you cannot recover at law. The obtaining of money is, however, another thing, and negotiation easy; in short, I will give you a fair price for those documents, valueless in a legal sense, because they only promise fidelity and not marriage, but, nevertheless, very mischievous in reckless hands. You could easily break off the marriage, but he would not be the only one to suffer; remember Miss Kirkland's humiliation, and she has never wronged you. I have but one thousand dollars in this world-a sum I intended should take me to Europe

"I cannot stand this much longer, and, whether he re--and I drew it from the bank this morning; it is yours turns to-night or not, I shall go. Thank heaven, I have had the fortitude I needed thus far!"

He got up, and, with his hands in his pockets, strolled away across the smooth grass, taking another direction from that chosen by her who had just left him.

It was, indeed, awfully hot, and a tumble in the water at the culvert, half a mile yonder, would do him a world of good-cool the inward as well as the outward fever.

Morris-it was he, of course—“ framed to make women false," in Iago's phrase; handsome, intellectual and attractive.

for those letters and silence."

It was like careless Geoffrey. He had the roll of notes in his vest-pocket-only ten of them; but at the sight poor Alice Wood, the ballet- girl, who had seen a good deal of money in her time, uttered a gasp as if she had been suddenly plunged into cold water.

"Well, I'll do it, sir," she said, eying the notes with a ourious, greedy stare, and holding out the letters. "You swear never to whisper a syllable to Miss Kirkwood ?"

"I do, by the memory of my dead mother!" said the

poor creature, recalling, alas! the only sacred association | lived in the country, and-and cows terrify me out of my left for her, no doubt.

And the exchange was made, and they parted. Geoffrey altered his intention about his bath, and went back to the house with a gocd deal to think about.

On the piazza he found no one but old Beauty, the fat and lazy terrier, and Geoffrey, subsiding into the basketchair, elevated his feet and put on his "considering-cap." When it was near sunset the door opened, and Miss Kirkwood, all in some white fabric, with a blood-red rose in her bosom, came out. She started at the sight of Geoffrey, and seemed about to retreat; but he said, suddenly, and with a sort of impatience:

"You need not always run away from me, Bessie. I am disagreeable to you, of course; but don't imagine that I would harm you. Perhaps you have a few better friends."

"Geoffrey !" she exclaimed, with her hands extended a little, and pain quivering in her face and voice, as if he had struck her.

"I am not Dr. Morris, but only lazy and unfortunate Geoffrey Fenton. I intended going to Europe, but have changed my mind. I will, however, relieve you of my presence in a day or two."

"Oh, Geoffrey, you are killing me! I must speak or die! It is you I love, only you, darling-only you." And with a wild sob and a gush of tears she fell on his bosom.

He did not think of where they were, of the hour, of the risk of surprise. He held her close to his heart, which was beating as wildly as her own, with a convulsive grasp. He knew then-for the first time he understood the truth; and what words could describe the ecstasy of that moment! But it was only a moment. Resolutely he withdrew her clinging hands and seated her in the chair. "Bessie, you are a promised wife. Your husband that is to be, so soon, left you in my charge. We are talking madness, and must recollect ourselves."

"I will not marry him, Geoffrey. I can die, but his wife I cannot be. You may think me, indeed, mad, to have so lost my shame; but I will never marry any one but you."

For a few minutes he could not trust himself to reply; but then, in a low, hoarse tone, he said:

"Bessie, it is impossible. My wife you can never be.” And with his face turned from her he went into the house.

Half an hour after this Mrs. Major Poyntz came en the veranda to exercise her poodle. She found none of the guests of Burwarton House there, and the time passed rather drearily.

She was just about to go in, after some forty minutes' solitude, when she observed Miss Kirkwood advancing rapidly up the walk.

"Where have you been, dear, all alone?" inquired the old lady, cheerily; but her smile passed instantly away. Miss Kirkwood's face was as white as her dress, and her agitation extreme. She was quite out of breath from running, and one of her hands rested on her heart, as if to still its beating.

"Some one has frightened you," exclaimed Mrs. Poyntz, at once. "You should not have gone out alone, my child, there are so many tramps."

Miss Kirkwood smiled, but such a smile! It appalled the old lady.

"What is the matter, Bessie?" "Nothing at all. But I-I am a little frightened, I confess. I saw some cattle, and you know that I am always afraid of them. It is very ridiculous, but I have never

wits." And with the same ghastly, mechanical smile, she hurried by and entered the house.

A little later arrived Major Poyntz and other gentlemen from the city, and the bell rang for tea.

The major, a florid, bumptious sort of gentleman, looked round.

"Miss Kirkwood absent, eh? She and Meredith off for a stroll somewhere, I suppose, and our groaning board has but little attraction."

"Meredith! Has he come ?"

"Came on the boat with us," returned the major, "and looking wonderfully well. Miss Kirkwood must have waylaid him on the road to the house."

"She did," said young Lionel Chantrey, in his languid fashion, from the other end of the table. "I saw them talking on the bridge at the culvert as I passed through Jones's timothy-field."

It turned out that the others had come by the timothyfield, also, being the shorter eut, but no one else had observed people on the bridge. However, Chantrey's evidence was indisputable, and the subject expired.

But after tea followed a great surprise. Miss Kirkwood, lying on the bed in her room, crying to herself and suffering agony with a headache, declared positively that she had not met and conversed with Fred Meredith at the culvert or anywhere.

The beautiful young lady was in great distress, and talked rather incoherently, and seemed to have a high fever.

It was certainly somewhat mysterious, for, as the evening grew on, Mr. Meredith failed to put in an appearance, and Miss Kirkwood's condition grew much worse.

Dr. Morris was sent for; but when he approached her bedside her voice rose into something almost like a shriek, and she commanded him to leave the room.

There was, of course, a good deal of surmise, and it certainly was not lessened when Mrs. Poyntz told her strange story of the incident on the piazza that evening.

The elder people shook their heads gravely, and Major Poyntz proposed a moonlight walk to the landing by way of the culvert.

"Are you going, Fenton ?" inquired the major of Geoffrey, who had been nervously pacing the veranda for some time, smoking one cigar after another in the most reckless fashion.

Geoffrey shook his handsome head with a curt "No, sir," and the party were off.

Directly afterward Dr. Morris came down, looking very troubled, indeed.

"Alone, Fenton? I am very glad," he said, anxiously. "This is a most curious thing. Miss Kirkwood has been through some scene of agitation, and is quite out of her head, and, oddly enough, seems to have taken a sudden and most violent antipathy to me. I cannot recollect ever having given the slightest cause for offense; but so it is. And another singular circumstance is that she is constantly calling for you. Her condition .is really serious, and anodynes appear to be useless. Do you mind coming up to the room? Perhaps she has something to say that will throw a light on all this."

Geoffrey hesitated, but finally complied, and the two ascended the stairs together.

When they opened the door Miss Kirkwood sat up a little, and instantly caught sight of Geoffrey, and cried :

"Ah, you have come, Geoffrey. If they tell you I threw him into the oulvert, don't believe it. You would not think me capable of such a crime, would you, Geoffrey ?" and she smiled, passing her beautiful hand across

her forehead, as if to still the disorder within. "Come | oddly at her; and toward evening in came Geoffrey, pale here, Geoffrey; I don't think I am well. It must have and troubled. been all a dream."

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He signed to the woman to step into the adjoining chamber, and took his place by the bedside.

66

"Bessie, you have been very ill," he said, after a minute or two of hesitation. suppose you have not heard of the discovery at the culvert ?"

"I have heard nothing, Geoffrey; but something has happened, I am sure, or why have the people of the house deserted me? Why do the doctor and the nurse look at

me so strangely and seem to shrink from me?"

"I can form no idea; but -but Fred Meredith's body has been found under the railroad bridge."

A kind of livid terror stole across her worn face, and she shuddered.

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66

'Bessie, in your delirium

you uttered some strange language, which, in consideration of the events that have developed, must be explained. There is to be an inquest, and there will be evidence that will connect you with that unfortunate man's death!" He stood up, greatly agitated. She tried to speak, but he went on: "You were away from this house at the

and having heard, through the mysterious course which news takes, that a gentleman was missing, the lad immediately delivered his information at the hotel.

And row fol

lowed that

ghastly

ness, dragging the stream, and in due course a result-the

finding of the body of the missing man, with his hands clinched in

IN THE GARDENS OF VERSAILLES IN THE DAYS OF LOUIS XV.

agony, and an awful terror and despair on his face. He had evidently been hurled suddenly and headlong from railroad bridge above, for his skull was fractured where it had struck a stone.

Meanwhile the shadow was deepening at Burwarton House. Miss Kirkwood, thanks to Dr. Morris, was growing better. The delirium had left her, and she was, indeed, in most things quite herself again.

There were, however, no visitors to the room, and the nurse and the doctor both looked a little askance and

hour he must

have met his

fate; he was

seen talking to

a woman on the bridge, and half an hour later you returned in great excitement, and until now have been lying ill and delirious. Bessie, these facts can be explained upon only one hypothesis-and heaven help you !" "Geoffrey !" she called, but he was gone.

He went to his room-for those few tremendous moments a madman. It was not until now that he understood the real depth of his love for this-this murderess.

But now came the revulsion, and reason asserted itself again. Something must be done, but what? The net

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work was swiftly closing round; people were talking; the inquest was already in progress, and next would follow the arrest.

He descended to where they were holding the inquest. The coroner, the witnesses and the usual throng had gathered, and the testimony was proceeding.

One after another the witnesses told their parts of the story, adding links to the chain, and at last, it seemed, the evidence was complete. The coroner was about to deliver a charge, when there was astir at the door, and a new figure appeared. It was Miss Kirkwood, pale as death. In firm, quiet tones she gave her testimony:

"On the evening in question I did walk, as the testimony has shown, in the direction of the culvert. I was greatly troubled. I saw Mr. Meredith crossing the bridge. He was met by a woman, and the apparition seemed to astound him. There was a conversation between them, which grew in a very few minutes into an altercation. I could hear their voices where I stood, and she seemed to be upbraiding him for some treachery. I am sure she was not sober, or else under the influence of a drug. He laughed in her face and seemed about going on, when she sprang upon him, placing her hands upon his shoulders. The shock was so sudden and violent that he lost his balance and fell backward over the culvert.

AN OLD NEW ZEALAND CHIEF.

The woman stood for half a minute appalled, and then

If you search the water you will find the body of the unhappy woman where you found his."

A sensation followed, but her story had too much the impress of truth to be for an instant doubted; and that night, by torchlight, the stream was dragged again, and her evidence confirmed beyond dispute.

A YEAR WITH THE MAORI.

BY ALFRED H. GUERNSEY.

WE-William Snow and his wife Annie-embarked, June 7th, 1880, at San Francisco, on the good steamer Zealandia, for Auckland, New Zealand, almost our exact antipode; for Auckland is within a single degree of latitude as far south of the equator as San Francisco is north of it, but in not quite as high west longitude as San Francisco is in east. In California it is now early Summer; in New Zealand it is early Winter. The distance, as measured upon the chart, is almost 6,000 miles, which we hope to make in three weeks. We shall touch land only at the Hawaiian Islands; and after leaving thesesaving only our steamer and perhaps a glimpse of some lonely islet-we shall see nothing but the round rim of the horizon, the overarching sky above, and the broad expanse of the Pacific below.

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The object of the to sprang voyage is

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cuperate my own shattered health. We had been assured that the climate of New Zealand is the finest in the world. We had studied up something of the country. The maps told us that this British colony consists of two main islands, separated by a narrow strait, and several adjacent smaller ones; that the islands stretch about 1,000 miles from northeast to

MAORI GIRL IN NATIVE CLOAK.

southwest, with an average breadth of a hundred miles; that the surface was mountainous, having volcanic peaks of 10,000 feet, or more, some active and some extinct. Books of statistics told us that the entire area was about 100,000 square miles, considerably more than that of Great Britain, or about twice that of the State of New York; that the population was about 458,000, of whom 414,000 were colonists, mainly from England and Scotland, the remainder being Maori, or natives.

These Maori (which in their language means simply "men"), we learned, were dying out quite as rapidly as are the Hawaiians, to whom they are akin. In 1842 their numbers were estimated at 114,000; in 1850 at 70,000; now 44,000. According to their own tradition their ancestors came hither some 400 years ago, in canoes, from an island which they call Hawaiki, supposed by some to be Hawaii, by others, who think it unlikely that canoes could make that long voyage of 4,000 miles, one of the nearer Navigator group. The first supposition finds some support from the fact that when Cook was there in 1766, his Hawaiian interpreter found no difficulty in conversing with the Maori. Whether there were any human dwellers on the island before the Maori arrived there is very uncertain. The only quadruped they found was a kind of rat; but birds were plentiful, and the waters abounded in fish, which, with the roots of a kind of flag, and sweet potatoes, which they apparently brought with them, constituted their chief food when the whites first came in contact with them. They were a fierce and warlike people, profusely tattooed, persistent cannibals, and having many strange customs, among which was the Polynesian system of "tapee," which among them had reached the extreme point of development.

Our steamer was heading straight toward the tropics, a fine breeze helping us along. Now and then there was a slight shower, just sufficient to send us below while it lasted. When we crossed the Tropic of Cancer, with the sun right overhead, the thermometer registered a temperature of only 74°. On the seventh day we sighted the Hawaiian Islands, and were soon piloted into the harbor of Honolulu. We made the most of our few hours ashore, and on the evening of the next day the Zealandia cleared from the wharf, her prow pointing right toward the equator.

Before long the trade-winds, heretofore so steady, grew desultory, and at times forsook us altogether. The long, sluggish dead-swell showed scarcely a ripple; the ocean was like a huge mirror, its glittering surface broken only by the frequent leaps of the flying-fish. During the week when we were nearing the equator the thermometer rose gradually until it reached 85°-in itself not a high degree of heat; but the atmosphere was often depressingly "muggy." Yet by selecting the most favored spots on the hurricane-deck, away from the reflection from the water, and in the draft caused by the motion of the ship, there were few hours of positive discomfort.

Only a few incidents broke the monotony of the voyage. We crossed the equator. Of the unpleasant modes in which this transit was wont to be celebrated by olden sailors, there was no trace on the Zealandia. Nobody was ducked or shaven with a hoop-iron. Then we sighted the island of Tutuari, one of the group supposed by many to have been the original home of the Maoris. Hereabouts it was thought we might cross the track of the steamer Australia, boun northward, and exchange mails. Many of us had written long letters, but the vessels did not meet in this waste of waters, and the epistles had to lie over for another time.

From the day when we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn

and entered the south temperate zone, the atmosphere grew sensibly cooler, the days shorter, and the air more clear and bracing as we left the sun further and further to the north. We crossed the conventional meridian of 180° on Friday, so that was the day dropped from our calendar to make it correct for the western hemisphere. So here was a week without any Friday, and we took occasion to congratulate one of our comrades, a jolly Catholic priest, that for once in his life he was living a whole week in which there was no day when he would be obliged to deny himself a hearty flesh dinner.

On the evening of the twentieth day we cast anchor in the harbor of Auckland. The early darkness was that of midwinter; a sudden transition from the gloaming of the long Summer evenings we had left in California only three weeks before. It was June by the almanac here as well as there; but the June of the northern hemisphere is the January of the southern, where the fourth of July comes in midwinter, and Christmas in the dog-days.

Since Auckland ceased to be the capital of New Zealand it has been outstripped in population by Wellington and Dunedin, notwithstanding its fine harbor, or, rather, pair of harbors; for it stands upon a narrow isthmus formed by two deep bays setting in from the opposite sides of the island, and almost cutting it in two, each being an excellent port. But the abundant shipping evinced that it has an extensive commerce.

From the number of hansom cabs and dog carts in the streets, we might have fancied that we had landed at an English seaport. This impression was deepened when we drove up to the sombre-looking hotel, and were ushered into still more sombre apartments, whose walls were hung with pictures of steeplechases and foxhunts, or peered into the public room, where the busy barmaid was flitting through the dense tobacco-smoke, supplying the foaming beverage to thirsty beer-drinkers; or walked about the streets, where h's were dropped about or picked up with the utmost recklessness.

The public buildings are not uncomely. The one most interesting to us was the Museum, which contains a good collection of Maori articles of dress and implements of war. Among the former are pretty mats, or blankets, made of the fine native flax, tastefully dyed, which may be styled the national costume, which properly consists of little besides. Among the latter are specimens of the amere-mere, or war-club, about as long as a policeman's baton, but thicker at the striking-end, made of a very hard greenstone, or jade, ground, or rather rubbed into shape, and polished with infinite labor, which was the national weapon. Years were often bestowed upon the fashioning of one of these. Some of the famous ones bore special names, and are as noted in Maori legends as is the sword Excalibur in those of King Arthur. This was the weapon of the chiefs; other fighters had swords and battle-axes of wood. The bow and arrow were unknown to them.

There is also a small fossil specimen of the extinct moa, that wingless bird of whom partial skeletons have been found indicating that it sometimes reached the height of seventeen feet. The market is well supplied with fruits, among which are cocoanuts, pineapples and oranges, brought from the tropical gardens of the Fiji Islands.

The central part of the city has a rather dingy look, and abounds in drinking-places bearing such English names as "The Forester's Arms," "The Black Bull," and "The Hare and Hounds." The private residences in the more retired portions are built mainly of wood, reminding us of our own American towns.

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