heard to shriek out indignantly, "Monsieur, you have bitten me!" It is sad, under any circumstances, to stand helplessly by, and watch the last struggles for life of a drowning man; but doubly sad must it be to abandon a sailor who, having fallen overboard, has managed for the moment to save himself, yet whom it is impossible to succor without risking the lives of many for the sake of one. Such scenes as this sometimes occur. Capt. Dundas, of the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company's Service, in his evidence before the English Admirality Commitee on Lifeboats, and whose report has just been printed, says, "I remember the instance of a man who was washed overboard in a south-west monsoon: there was a frightful sea running at the time, and the man got on a grating; the sea was so bad that the captain would not lower a boat, and could not get up to him with the ship, so the man was seen floating away on the grating. It is, no doubt," adds Capt. Dundas, "a very painful thing to abandon a man; but the captain, in that case, was not justified in risking the lives of eight or nine men in order to save the life of one." AN ingenious French artisan has, it is stated, invented a scheme for the prevention of revolutions, and the regeneration of the world. He attributes the convulsions of society to which his unfortunate country has of late years been subject to a species of political dram-drinking producing an unhealthy condition of mind. Young men, he says, who would lead quiet and useful lives if they followed their natural inclinations, are led by older offenders to indulge in daily drams of politics, until their brains become diseased, and they labor under an insatiable thirst for political excitement. If taken in time, this morbid craving may be subdued, and reason will regain its sway. He therefore suggests the establishment of retreats for habitual politicians, into which they may be either placed by their friends, or voluntarily retire, until their cure is perfected. Any habitual politician who is a public nuisance may, on the certificate of two competent authorities of different political persuasions, be confined in a retreat for a period not exceeding two years. The treatment to be pursued towards patients is to administer to them immense doses of political economy, public speeches, treatises on the rights of man, the wrongs of woman, &c., and thoroughly to fatigue and disgust them with the public questions of the day, until they gladly turn to occupations of a more harmless nature. Although these institutions are primarily intended for political patients, red-hot sectarians will be admitted if there is room for them, and their friends are prepared to pay for their maintenance: these latter will require a slightly different method of treatment. They are AN action of much interest to composers and dramatic authors has just been decided before the tribunal of the Seine. M. Sauvage, a well-known librettist, and M. Ambroise Thomas, the composer of "Hamlet," produced jointly in 1859 an opera called "Gillotin et son Père," which was accepted and put in rehearsal at the Opéra Comique the year afterwards. The rehearsals of "Gillotin et son Père" were, however, interrupted for various reasons, but always at the suggestion of M. Ambroise Thomas, until at last the patience of the librettist, after twelve years' trial, gave way. He called upon the composer to allow the rehearsals of the piece to be proceeded with; and, making the request in a formal manner, met with a formal refusal. M. Thomas, never quite satisfied with his work, had now, after the success of Mignon" and "Hamlet," become ashamed of it, and declined to permit its production. Thereupon M. Sauvage commenced actions for damages both against M. Ambroise Thomas, for withholding his permission, and against M. de Leuven, director of the Opéra Comique, for not bringing out "Gillotin et son Père" with or without permission. After a long inquiry the court decided: 1. That there was no case against M. de Leuven. 2. That M. Ambroise Thomas had a right to object to the performance of his own music. 3. That M. Ambroise Thomas was at the same time bound to compensate M. Sauvage, his librettist, for the injury he did him by preventing the production of a work which belonged equally to librettist and composer. 66 Now that the subject of lightning-conductors is occupying public attention, it may be useful to state that there exists a concise memorandum on this subject by a gentleman of acknowledged eminence and authority, the late Sir William Snow Harris. This memorandum was deemed of so much value that it was published, in 1858, as a waroffice circular by the late Sir John Burgoyne, when inspector-general of fortifications, for the guidance of engineerofficers; and has since been consul ed in regard to the addition of lightning-conductors to government-magazines and public buildings. In publishing this memorandum, Sir John Burgoyne drew attention, in a short introduction, to the leading principles enunciated in it, some of which are clearly opposed to the popular notions commonly prevailing upon this subject. For example, Sir William Snow Harris strenuously opposes the notion that metal in a building, whether disposed in the form of a conductor, or otherwise, ever attracts lightning. The conductor does no more than conduct the electricity by furnishing it with a path of least resistance through the building. Again, "there is no advantage, but the contrary, in endeavoring to insulate the conductors from the building." "The best material is copper, either in tube one and one-half to two inches diameter, and one-eighth inch thick, or plates three and one-half inches wide, and one-eighth to three-sixteenths of an inch thick." "The summit of the rod should be pointed; but gold, gilt, or platinum tops are unnecessary." All metal surfaces, whether lead, copper, or iron, in ridges, roofs, gutters, or coverings to doors or windows, to be connected by plates of copper with the conducting system." Sir William Snow Harris is very emphatic with regard to the uselessness of lightning-conductors attached to poles some feet distant from the buildings which they are intended to protect. says, "We should not place a rain-pipe ten feet distant from a house, if we wished to carry off rain from the roof;" and he gives an example of the ill effects of a detached lightning-conductor, the destruction by lightning, in 1857, of Compton Lodge in Jamaica, which was nominally protected by a conductor on a road ten feet from the south-east angle of the building. This angle "was shattered to pieces: the escape of the family appears to have been miraculous; while the lightning-rod, ten feet distant, remained untouched." " He BURNETT'S COCOAINE is the BEST and CHEAPEST Hair Dressing in the world. It promotes the GROWTH OF THE HAIR, and is entirely free from all irritating matter. The name and title thereof is adopted as a Trade-Mark, to secure the public and proprietors against imposition by the introduction of spurious articles. All unauthorized use of this Trade-Mark will be promptly prosecuted. Loss of appetite, heartburn, palpitation of the heart, dizziness, sleeplessness, mental and physical debility, and melancholy, are caused by a disarrangement of the digestive organs. To thoroughly master these symptons, WHITE'S SPECIALTY FOR DYSPEPSIA is the only prompt, efficient and safe remedy. H. G. WHITE, Proprietor, No. 107 Washington Street, Boston. Price $1.00 per bottle. Of all the choice condiments that belong to the well-furnished table, as chow-chow, piccalilli, &c., none is so much prized, as a standard relish for soups, fish, and meats, as the HALFORD LEICESTERSHIRE TABLE SAUCE, at once the best and cheapest of them all. AUTHOR OF "BLACK SHeep," NOBODY'S FOR- CHAPTER VIII. - SO FAR SUCCESSFUL. W again HEN Martin Gurwood knew that don, that there was no possibility of departing from the scheme which she had proposed, and to the carrying into effect of which he had given his reluctant consent, he felt more than ever nervous and uncomfortable. That he had made a great mistake in admitting Madame Du Tertre into his confidence at all, and that he had enormously magnified that error by permitting her to take a leading part in the plot, and to import into it mystery and a positive danger, he knew full well. How he should be able to account for his proceedings to Humphrey Statham, who, he felt sure, would be eminently dissatisfied with all that had been done, he did not know. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1872. Mrs. Calverley did not require, or indeed expect, any reply to her series of wearisome questions, or comment on her dull string of complaints. She was quite satisfied with the interjectional Ah!" "Well!" and "Indeed!" which Martin threw in from time to time; and it was well that she required nothing more; for her companion would have been entirely unable to give her a [No. 13. the servant had left the room before he broke the seal: then he seated himself in the big arm-chair, and read as follows: HENDON, THURSDAY, MIDNIGHT. MY DEAR M. MARTIN, -You will, I know, be most anxious to learn how I have prospered in my undertaking; and I would willingly have given you ear As, however, it is advisable to observe secrecy, I shall not intrust a messenger with my letters, but shall send them by the post, and take them to the office myself. This may occasionally cause some slight delay; but it will be surest and safest in the end. By the place from which this letter is dated, you will see that I have carried out my intention. I am writing at a table by her bedside; and, as I raise my eyes from the paper, they fall upon her lying asleep close by me. Ah! M. Martin, I told you that I was a woman fertile in resources, and generally successful in what I attempt. That there was no vanity or boasting in this, my present position gives, I think, ample proof. called upon to do so, to state what she was talking about. Martin Gurwood's thoughts were at Rose Cottage. Madame Du Tertre must have arrived there by that time,-must have seen that poor, pretty young creature. A strange woman, Madame Du Tertre, and, to his mind, not too trustworthy: but she had expressed kindly feelings towards this girl; and, when she saw her, that kindly feeling could not fail to be increased. That was a horrible notion, -taking advantage of her weakness to give her a sleeping draught! He did not like to think of that; and yet he was compelled to admit that he did not see how any thing else could have been done. Pauline's possession of their secret was That was a wretched evening for an unpleasant element in the story Martin Gurwood. He and his mother which he had to tell Statham; but had But to tell you my story from its comdined in solemn state together; and he not taken her into his confidence he mencement: I took the letter which during the repast and afterwards, when felt that he should have bungled the you handed me, and, fortified by the inthey were seated in the vast drawing- business which he had undertaken, and ward feeling, that, though you said room, where Mrs. Calverley's work- that very likely by that time both Mrs. nothing, you had breathed a silent table and reading-lamp formed a mere Calverley and the tenant of Rose Cot- prayer for my success, I set out once oasis of light in the midst of the great tage would have become acquainted more for the place where we had held desert of darkness, he had to listen to with the positions which they held to our morning's conversation. On arrivan unbroken plaint, carried on in an un- wards each other. How long they could ing at the gate, I perceived my little varied monotone. "Was there ever be kept in ignorance of those positions playfellow of the morning. Ah! I forsuch a life as hers? What had she was a matter of doubt; but for the tem- got to mention to you, that while you done that she should be so afflicted?porary respite they were indebted to were in the house, and just before you Why was her advice never taken? If Madame Du Tertre; and Martin thought appeared at the dining-room window, I it had been, Mr. Gurwood would not he would put that very strongly to had made acquaintance with a very prethave killed himself with drink: Mr. Humphrey Statham the next morning. ty child whom I had found playing in Calverley would have had nothing to His last thoughts before dropping off the garden, and had ingratiated myself do with the Ironworks worry, which to sleep were given to Rose Cottage; with her by returning the ball which had undoubtedly caused his death. and in his dreams he saw the pretty, she had thrown to my side of the What was to become of the busines? pale-faced, tearful girl with the dark- hedge. It is part of the scheme of my The arrangements made in Mr. Caiver-eyed, black-browed woman bending life, M. Martin, to ingratiate myself ley's will sounded all very right and over her. with everybody: some day they may proper; but she very much questioned He expected a letter from Hendon by have an opportunity of making themwhether they would be found to work the early moring's post; but it was selves useful to me. well. Was not too much mastery and mid-day before it arrived. Martin sat power given to Mr. Jeffreys? He had in the dining-room by himself, anxiousbeen a confidential clerk certainly; but it was by no means to be argued from that that he would be either as industrious or as useful when placed in command. She could bear testimony to that from her experience of Mr. Calverley, whom she had known in both positions." And so on and so on. ly expecting it; he heard the postman's Behold an exact example of this in the present instance! The child saw me at once, and ran forward to_announce my arrival to her mother. Had I in the morning been cross or ungracious, had I made a bad impression, that impression would have been conmunicated by the child, and my rece] tion would at once have been comprom ised. As it was, the child cried out, "The dark lady has come again: here she is at the gate," and went on to mention my having returned the ball, and spoken pleasantly to her. I heard this, for by that time I had walked up the garden, and was close by the door. There she stood in the porch, her bonnet and shawl on, her head bent eagerly forward, peering into the dusk. She was waiting for you, M. Martin; and so intent was she on your coming that she seemed unable to think of any thing else. My arrival did not impress her at all until I mentioned your name she scarcely looked at or listened to My morning's adventure with the child served me just then. I said do not be angry, M. Martin, I was compelled to make some excuse -I said that I was the wife of your brother (I would have said your sister, but my French accent would have betrayed me); that I had been with you there in the morning, to be ready in case my services were needed; that while you entered the house I remained outside and talked with the child, as she had already heard; that I had come direct from you that evening; and that I was the bearer of a letter which would explain my errand. "A letter!" she cried. not coming?" "Then he is "The letter will show you, madame, that he cannot come, but that he has sent me to take his place, and to act precisely as he would have done." She looked disappointed; but she took the letter, and walking into the little hall, where a light was burning, read it eagerly. Then she said, "You know the contents, madame. Mr. Gurwood says that you, instead of he, will be my guide: let us start at once." pended. You know my original idea said to her," Please tell my cabman we 66 Mrs. Claxton returned with the biscuits. See," said I, pointing to the glass, "I have poured out some wine for you. You have passed a day of intense excitement, and have still a most trying ordeal to go through: you will I suppose she saw something in my need to have all your courage, and all face, for she changed color almost im- your wits, about you. Drink this: it mediately, and said that she begged my will give you strength. She smiled pardon that she was acting very inhos- feebly, such a desolate, dreary smile! pitably, and that I doubtless required but made no objection: on the contrary, some refreshment after my drive. Not" She had had nothing all day," she refreshment, I told her, but rest. Five said, "and thought that the wine might minutes would make very little differ- do her good." So she took the glass, ence to her. If she would allow me to and quietly swallowed its contents. sit down for that time, I should be ready to start at its expiration. She didn't like the delay, poor child! I saw that plainly enough: but she was too kind, too well-bred, to refuse; and she took me into the dining-room, and rang for wine. I suppose if you had been there, M. Martin, you would have expected to see the girl drop down, her eyes closed, her senses gone? That is the way in the novels and the drama; but that is not the effect of the little tisane which I have more than once had occasion to Lying there, with her long hair floating over the pillow, her features tranquil and composed, her breathing soft and regular, she is very beautiful! So beautiful that I can quite understand the dead man being in love with her. So beautiful that, were I writing to any one but you, M. Martin, I should say I could almost forgive him for it. Meanwhile, it is satisfactory to us to think that the respite which we have gained by her inaction is purchased at the cost of no pain or ill suffered by her. Her sleep is as sound and as health-giving as though it had been natural; and there is no doubt that the rest will really be of service to her in serving as a preparation for the troubled time to come. So here ends my bulletin. What events to-morrow may have in store for us, of course I know not; but I think that the patient will sleep for at least another twenty-four hours, and I knew you would be desirous to hear as soon as possible of her state. If you have any thing to say to me, you can send it safely by letter; but if I do not hear from you, I shall hold to the plan which we arranged together. Your friend, P.S.-I have kept my letter open till now. state. I was glad to hear her give this or- prepare. That effect never varies. The emotions experienced by Marder, partly because I stood in great Mrs. Claxton watched me with appar- tin Gurwood when he arrived at the need of refreshment myself, for I had ent interest as I was eating my biscuit; conclusion of this lengthy epistle were had no chance of taking any in Walpole and, though she said nothing, she so conflicting that he thought it advisaStreet, but principally because, ever seemed perfectly to understand me ble to give as little personal considerasince my arrival, I had been wondering when I proposed to go. At that motion to the matter as possible, and to how I should find an opportunity of ment, seeing the nurse pass the window, lose no time in submitting his story and administering that little draught, upon carrying the little child, who was being the letter to Humphrey Statham, and the action of which my hopes for suc- taken to bed, I beckoned to her. The obtaining that clear-headed friend's cessfully carrying out our plans de- woman opened the door, and I had just advice upon both. On arriving at Change Alley, and revealing himself to the gaze of Mr. Collins, Martin was surprised to find that confidential creature brighten up at his approach, and to hear him express pleasure at his arrival. "Glad to see you, Mr. Gurwood," he said. "Perhaps now you have come the governor will be a little easier in his mind. He has been in and out of the room half a dozen times in the day for the last three days, asking us all if we were quite sure that you had not been, and giving directions that you were to be sent into him directly you arrived. I will go in and tell him at once." The chief clerk passed into his principal's room, and returned immediately. "You are to go in," he said; and the next moment Humphrey Statham had Martin Gurwood by the hand. "Here at last!" he cried. "I have been expecting you from hour to hour: what on earth has detained you ? " "Nothing. I came as quickly as I could, directly I had any thing to say, as I will prove to you in a minute. But what has made you so strangely anxious?" "My dear fellow, I am anxious about any thing in which I take an interest; and I have taken an interest in this matter. Now to the point. You have seen this lady?" "I have." “Wait, and hear me before you condemn," cried Martin, raising his hand in appeal. "I am as weak as water, no one knows that better than myself; but I had made up my mind to go through with this duty; and I would have done so had it not been for circumstances against which I could not struggle. Have you never heard me mention the name of Madame Du Tertre?" "Madame Du Tertre ?" repeated Humphrey, somewhat astonished at what he imagined to be his friend's sudden branching-off from the subject. 66 No: I have never heard the name." "She is a French woman, who, through some strange influence, I never knew exactly what, has been acting as my mother's companion for some little time, living in the house in Great Walpole Street, and being, in fact, half friend, half servant. You comprehend the position?" Humphrey Statham bowed his head in acquiescence. "She is a woman of great strength of character,- little as I know of the world I am able to see that; and has not merely obtained a vast influence over my mother, but, as I now believe, has made herself thoroughly acquainted with most of our private affairs." "You don't mean to say that she knows? to return in the evening, and take her with me. It was then I met Madame Du Tertre." "Well, what did she say ? " "She said that my plan was absurd, and that it was all-important that the actual state of things should be kept from Mrs. Claxton for some time longer." "Wait, and hear me. This woman, from something that occurred during Mr. Calverley's lifetime, seems to have entertained some suspicion of the Claxton mystery. The morning after his death, when I happened to be alone in the room with her, she found some means of alluding to some partnership "She was right in both instances," in the house at Mincing Lane, and of said Humphrey Statham, nodding. introducing the name of Claxton. I" But how did she propose to do it? I tried to pass the thing off as lightly as confess I don't see my way!" I could; but I was horribly confused, "How she has done it you will perand I dare say I made a mess of it: at ceive by this letter which I have just all events, her suspicions were not received." abated; for, when I came out of Rose Cottage, after my first interview with that poor creature, I found this French woman waiting for me close by the gate." "She had followed you to Hendon, then!" cried Statham. "What explanation did you give for your being there?" "What explanation could I give ? Even though I had designed to tell a lie I could not have framed one calculated to have escaped her detection." "Do you mean to say, then, that this intriguing French woman, who is in Mrs. Calverley's confidence, knows all?" "All!" Humphrey Statham shrugged his shoulders, plunged his hands into his trousers-pockets, and sank back in his chair with the air of a man for whom life has no further interest. "You cannot realize my position," cried Martin. "It was with this very power that she possesses over Mrs. Calverley that she threatened me. And she has expressed her willingness to aid us in our plans, provided I do not interfere with her management of my mother." "If any thing had to be said to her, it was better to tell her all," said Humphrey Statham: "a half-confidence is always a mistake. So this charming creature knows all about the double mystery of Calverley and Claxton, and promises to render us assistance in our endeavors to do the best for all persons concerned! Well, it is a most confounded nuisance that she knows any thing about it; but, as it is, I don't know that she might not be made useful." "She has made herself useful already," said Martin Gurwood. "You should have never sent me on this errand, which I was utterly incapable to fulfil. I saw this poor girl, and, as kindly as I could, told her of the death of this man, her husband, as I called him; but when she pressed to be taken to him, imagining that he was only just dead, I was entirely nonplussed, and knew not what to say. You had given me no instructions on that head, you know." "By Jove! no: that was an omission," said Statham, rubbing his head. "How did you manage? "After a struggle, I told her that the body was lying at Mr. Calverley's house in Great Walpole Street, and that, as she did not know Mrs. Calverley, it would be necessary to apprise that lady of her visit. So I left her, promising And Martin handed Pauline's letter to his friend, and watched him keenly as he perused it. Humphrey Statham read the document through with great attention. Only twice he showed symptoms of astonishment: once by his uplifted eyebrows, once by a low but prolonged whistle. When he had finished reading the letter, he still retained it in his hand. "She is a clever woman, by Jove!" he said, "and a thoroughly unscrupulous one: this letter shows that. I don't like this sleeping-draught business: that is a remarkably awkward feature in the case, though it seems to be going on all well, and it certainly is giving us the time we required. When this poor girl wakes, you and I must both of us be present to tell her plainly the truth: you in your clerical capacity; and I well in my worldly capacity, I suppose. 'Very beautiful,' eh?" he said, referring to the letter. "She is very beautiful. A soft, touching kind of beauty which appeals to me more than any other. And the child," he continued, again glancing at the letter. " You remarked that I took special interest in this matter, Gurwood: you would scarcely fancy, now, that that child is the link between me and the Claxton mystery!" "The child!" cried Martin Gurwood. "How is that?" CARAFA the composer, who died recently, was far from rich. His principal income was derived from a snuffbox. This snuff-box was given to the author of "La Prison d'Edimbourgh" about thirty years ago, by Baron James de Rothschild, as a token of esteem. Carafa sold it twenty-four hours later for seventy-five napoleons to the same jeweller from whom it had been bought. This became known to Rothschild, who gave it again to the musician on the following year. The next day it returned to the jeweller's. This traffic continued till the death of the banker, and longer still; for his sons kept up the tradition to the great satisfaction of Carafa. |