doomed;
By W1LLARD
CHAPTER XX. (Continued.)
"Come inside the cottage," he said,
handing her in. "No one is here, I think.
Hut how came you here?"
"I had lost my way ; I knocked at the
! door, but no one answered ; then I walked
In, with the hope of finding some one to
make inquiries of; and just at that mo
ment I heard your footsteps, and then
jour voice. Oh,' what a blessed sound
that was in my ears!"
"You have been wandering about here
In the hope of seeing me of meeting me
accidentally? Was It not so?"
"Yes," she again answered, slowly, af
ter another pause.
"'But where are you staying?" he asked
uddenly. "Are you provided with lodg
ing?" "Oh, yes, at Bodmin; I have. been there
two days."
"But that Is some distance from here.
How can you get there to-night? There
la no kind of conveyance to be procured."
"Oh. I can walk. Your father Is 111,
Is' he not?" she asked, suddenly.
"He is that is why I am here."
i 'What would he any i did he know of
our love? Would he sanction It? Would
r"""!" tt Mi on' wife? He would
rtot, and you know it !" she said, bitterly,
and drawing away from him. ."He would
think his house disgraced by such a mar
riage. But were I a grand lady, and
ugly as sin, and stupid as an owl, he
would receive me with open arms!"
"You wrong my fnther, dearest Indeed
you do ! No man has a higher respect
for beauty and Intellect than he has," an
wered Arthur, mildly.
"Yes, as adjuncts to birth !" she cried,
bitterly. "Oh, why did I ever seek this
meeting? Why did I not leave you In
peace, and fly from you and your love?
Oh, no, no! it shall not be! Help me
to struggle against myself ! Drive me
from you let me fly from you ! Do any
thing to save yourself from ruin!"
Her wild, passionate voice told of the
truggle fhut raged within. She prayed
, for the seU-control she had never prac
ticed, and it would not come. The self
, Indulgence that from a child had warped
her soul rendered her incapable of self
donylng. She, loved Arthur Penrhyddyn
according to her nature. It was a selfish
love, but it was too powerful for her to
wrestle with to trample upon.
"Why is this?" she went on, yet more
wildly. "Until I met you, I knew noth
ing of such struggles;,! thought only of
my ownhappiness; but now, apart from
you, I have no happiness no life! I
am like one under a spell. Ah, that is It!
that is It !" and she shuddered In every
limb.
i , "Jt is," he answered gloomily. "We are
ach other's fate! Struggle as we will,
we are In the toils we must fulfill our
destiny !"
"And you will mnke me your wife, and
I Bhnll one day be Lady Penrhyddyn?"
she murmured. '
"Anything to make you mine; for I
aiiliot exist without you," he answered,
in a low, passionate voice.
"And if poverty comes," she said, "we
"will brave It together."
, "Then the die is cast," he cried, "and
only d6ath shall part us!"
Again that long, low wail of the wind.
s he' had heard It In the gallery,- and
agsin he felt as though a supernatural
presence were about him. And this time
lthere minded with the' hlnat another
Mormd a strange, hoarse, rattling noise,'
and then a gasp, as from a human throat.
"What Is that?" she whispered, cling
ing to him in mortal terror.
It was like the hoarse rattle In. the
throat-of the dying. His hair bristled,
and his flesh crept. Something was near
them. What was It? .
Arthur was determined to Investigate
the cause of these sounds. He remem
bered that he had a box olj waxen matches
In his pocket. He struck one, and by Its
light saw a lantern with a candle in It
standing open upon a table. A puff of
wind blew out his light; but he struck
another, and succeeded this time In Ignit
ing the candle. Nothing wag to be seen
In the room In which they were. But
this opened Into the sleeping room, Into
which Arthur had never passed but once
Before; and that was on the night that,
as a boy, he had seen a mother and child
lying cold and motionless upon the bed.
Into this room he now passed she still
clinging to him.
A cry of horror burst from her lips,
and she fell senseless upon the ground,
while Arthur stood transfixed. Huddled
upon the bed, his limbs drawn up as if
with pain, his face distorted with the
gonies of death, was tlie old fisherman,
John Trevethit'k, He had been seized with
a fit, and died with no one by to help
bint.
Death had been the witness of their
betrothal, and the death. rattle had min
gled with their vows of love their only
ratification.
' CHAPTER XXI.
Recovering from his first stupor of ter
ror, Arthur extinguished the light, and.
taking Mrs. Castleton In his arms, bore
her out into the open air. What was to
be done? It was impossible for her to
reach Bodmin that night. If he went In
to the village, there were a hundred
chances to one against his procuring a
conveyance.' But one resource was left
open to him a startling one, but Inevit
able be must take ber to the Castle. He
aould tell the servants that aha waa a lady
m
0
MacKENZIE
to whom, finding it impossible to procure
her any conveyance to Bodmin, he had
offered the hospitality of the Castle. That
would be sufficient. x
The cold air and the drizzling rain,
which now began to fall, in a few mom
ents revived her front the swoon. She
raised her head and stared wildly around.
"What is this? Where am I?" she cried.
"You are safe, dearest; come away
from this place It Is raining, and you
will get cold." And he began to lead her
away.
"Oh, I have had such a terrible
dream !" she murmured. "I have seen
such an awful dead face! Was It a
dream? Oh, no, no! It was In that hut
where you promised to make me your
wife. What a place for love, with that
awful dead face close to us! Death and
love love and death ! Let there be an
end of it. Even from the grave we are
warned against our union. Where are
you taking me to?"
He told her that she must rest In the
Castle that night, as it was impossible
(or her to reach Bodmin.
"In the Castle?" she exclaimed.
"Yes, dearest; one day you shall rest
tlieM ns its mistress, I hope."
There was nothing hopeful in his tone,
however; his voice sounded hollow and
dreary. The scene he had just witnessed
had sunk deep into bis soul ; to him It
was another link forged in the fatal chain
that bound him.
.Doubtless the servant thought it a
strange circumstance that Mr. Arthur
should so suddely bring a strange lady
into the Castle. He requested them to
A STRANGE
serve her with refreshments,, and all that
she required, and ordered apartments to
be prepared for her in the opposite wing
of the building to that in which his own
were situated. He would have taken leave
of her for the night, with such courteous
distance as he would have shown to a
stranger; but she was not to be put off
thus; and her. manner, as sbe bade him
"Good night" made the servants stare,
and, doubtless, talk when they got below.
This done, Arthur directed two of the
servants to go down to John Trevetbick's
cottage.
Mrs. Castleton sat before the fire that
blazed cheerily upon the spacious hearth
of her great old-fashioned bedroom, call
ing up visions of future grandeur. At
times,, the awful dead face thrust Itself
In among them, but, with a shiver, she
wrenched her thoughts from dwelling
upon its hideousness. Once in bed, wear
iness overpowered her and she did not
awaken until the sun was shining bright
ly through the latticed windows.
She sprang out of bed and looked out
upon the glorious landscape of wood and
field, hill and dale, and bright blue sea.
That invigorating atmosphere, flooded
with golden light, quickly dissipated the
superstitious fancies of the night.
"Shall I renounce the chance of being
the mistress of this for the sake of a
mere superstitious fancy? Perhaps I shall
not come to him a' beggar!" she mused.
"But I will say nothing of my hopes of
fortune ; and at all events he will be
proud of his wife's beauty !" and she
smiled at her image in the glass.
v After brekfast, a servant brought her
a mesage from Arthur, to ask if she
could receive him.
"At once," was the reply. And five
minutes afterwards he was holding her
In his arms, and anxiously Inquiring how
she bad rested.
"Oh, excellently t" was her reply, "But
I fear that you cannot say as much."
He loked very worn and pale, as though
he had not slept all night which, indeed,
he had not ', but he did not tell her so.
He would have shown her through the
Castle, but d'scretion prompted her to
Tefuse. She did not wish Sir Launce to
know anything of her presence there; it
might lead to explanations to a rupture.
Bettor defer such until later. And fur
ther to avoid attention, she expressed her
resolution to walk to Bodmin ; and Ar
thur arranged to accompany her.
They parted about half a mile out of
Bodinin. ,
, "Do not let us be seen together any
more," she said. She had more reasons
than one for this caution. "I shall re
turn to London to-morrow.' Write and
let me know when you are coming up."
"That will be as toon aa my father Is
better," he answered.
"Till then, adieu, my lore my boa-
band," she murmured, falling upon his
neck. -
And so they parted. Mrs. Castleton
took her way to the principal hotel. "So
late!" she muttered, looking up at the
church clock as she passed. "I have
only half an hour to spare before the
time of my appointment I would not
have been late for that on any considera
tion." In her sitting room was Mrs. Freeman,
looking very worried and anxious.
"Good gracious, child, where have you
been? I thought that something had hap
pened to you !" she cried.
"Something has happened to me. Some
thing that .you could never suess. I have
passed the night within toe walls of
Pennrhyddyn Castle. But I cannot ex
plain matters now. I expect an arrival
every moment."
Ten minutes afterwards, a waiter an
nounced that Mr. Jenkins, the postmas
ter at Penrhyddyn, waa below and desired
to see Mrs. Castleton.
She sat down In the darkest part of the
room, and waited his coming, nervous
and agitated. He was shown 'in, the door
closed, and then she stepped into the
light.
"Father," she said, "do you not know
me?"
He started back at the sound of her
voice with a look of Intense surprise,
which almost Immediately changed to one
of angry sternness.
"Is it you who have sent for me?" he
said, harshly. "What do you want with
me? Are you not ashamed to look me Id
the face?" -
"I have sent for you to ask your for
giveness," she answered, humbly, in a soft,
pleading voice, and with a piteous, tearful
look in her melting eyes.
"My forgiveness can be of no use to
you," he answered. "Our ways of life
are separate we cau never again be any
thing but strangers to each other."'
He was turning on his heel to go when
she clutched him by the arm and, drop
ping upon her knees, held him fast. Her
eyes were filled with tears, and ber voice
shook with genuine emotion.
"Do not go without hearing me," she
cried, piteously, "I am not bo bad as you
imagine. Truly, 1 have forfeited all
REUNION.
claims, not only to your love, but even
to your forbearance, by the ungrateful re
turn I have made for all your kindness
to me."
"You have," he interrupted, sternly. "If
you had been my own child I could not
have been fonder of you than I was from
the day I found you upon the sands, and
carried you home with me. I waa a child
less, wifeless man my home was a lone
ly one and I thought a bright little prattler,-
like yon were then, would be a joy
and a comfort to me. The people about
here say that the drowning bring a curse
upon those who" save them. I have found
it true."
"I have been most ungrateful," she
moaned. "I cannot find one word to
excuse my conduct you were only too
good to me."
"Everybody could see your falling but
me," he went on in the same tone; "but
I was blinded, Infatuated by your syren
face and ways, and always, had an excuse
upon my lips and in my heart for your
willful vanity. And you so twisted your
self about my heart that I had not even
the courage to set any Inquiries on foot
about your friends, for fear I should lose
you. I placed you with my niece, who
kept a grand school Id my native place,
In Surrey. She, too, wrote me of your
disobedience and idleness, and of your
vile temper; but I still went on hoping
and believing that you would mend, and
be a bright woman one day, But my
dream was nearly at an end now. One
morning I got a letter to say that you
had run away from the school, and from
that hour you never wrote mo a line, but
left the poor old doting fool to break his
heart, perhaps you thought." '
"Oh, no, no !" she cried ; "I am not all
heartless. Many and many an hour I
have sat and thought of you with an ach
ing heart, of all your love and tenderness;,
and whenever a prayer passed my lips, It
was for your happiness. I would have
given the world to have written to you,
to have implored your forgiveness, and I
dared not. Not .long' after I left the
school I was married to a gentleman; of
fortune. I am his widow. - More than
that, I am,, probably, on the eve of com
ing Into a fortune through my father's
family; and when I have it, if there Is
anything I can do to add comfort to
your " ,
"Silence!" he Interrupted sternly. "If
I wanted bread, I would not accept a
crust from you j but I want nothing I
have more than enough for my needs. Had
you kept true to me, you would not have
found yourself a beggar at my death. Per
haps you tnight have been as well off as
you are now. Have you anything more
to say before I go?"
(To he continued.)
The good or evil we confer on others
often recoils oa ourselves. Fielding.
A Dehorning Chat.
While there are a great many cattle
that lose their horns by ' dehorning
fluids aud preparations of this kind in
calfhood, there are a great many that
come to maturity with an ugly pair of
horns that create a great deal of trou
ble In the feed yard. We have received
quite a number of Inquiries of late re
questing a plan for a good dehorning
chute. Accordingly we have here re
produced a onost convenient and satis
factory chute.
One of the good points about this
chute Is the hinged doors on the rear
cod which make It possible to adjust
the chute to any sized barn door.
Where the width of the rear end of the
chute Is satisfactory and cannot be ad
justed to the door as shown In the II-
A DEH0BN1W0 CHUTE.
lustration, there Is often a foot or two
of space to be divided between the two
sides. As our readers who have had
experience in dehorning know, an ani
mal will always choose to pass through
this small opening rather than Into the
chute and thereby cause a constant ag
gravation. The chute proper Is mount
ed on two heavy timbers which may be
4x4's or 4xG's, while the uprights are
generally 4x48. The stanchion is made
to open and close and secured In any
way that suits. The convenient part of
the chute Is the trough shaped part
marked H. This Is made of two-Inch
stuff and securely fastened to bottom
crosspleces. After the animal Is secur
ed In the stanchion a halter Is thrown
over Its head and the halter rope Is
passed through the hole just below, the
fetter H. The letter A shows a contin
uation of this rope to the pole which is
used as a lever to bring the animal's
head Into position on the trough.
As soon as this Is accomplished the
rope B Is thrown over the neck of the
animal and secures the head firmly to
the trough, when the dehorning opera
tion may be performed. As soon as the
operation Is concluded the animal Is
uustanchloned and one of the sides of
the ehute Is hinged so that it may be
opened for the animal to escape from
the chute, after which is closed and
another animal is driven In. Montreal
Star. . , i
Improving Dairy Stock.
A 2-year-old heifer, 1 fresh in milk,
will sell for more than a fatted steer
and she will cost-only half as much
to produce. These grade cows are not
hard to produce. Purchase a pure sire
of one of the standard breeds, cross
, hhn upon the mixed stock now on the
farm and the young will, in all useful
characteristics, be far more than half
of that pure breed. When we remem
ber the years, even centuries, of pure
breeding In these animals, and remem
ber also that the purer the blood In
any stock, the stronger will be that
blood, $100 or $150 for a male of
, breeding age will not seem an extrava
gant price. Every neighborhood where
there Is any co-operative spirit should
' prepare to supply this demand for
fairly well bred cows. Every male
purchased should be of the same breed,
'so that new animals will not have to
be purchased every two or three years.
By exchanging these animals about the
neighborhood, a farmer will then be
paying $100 or $150, not for two years,
but for six or ten years of service.
The cows thus produced will find a
more ready market, because there are
a sufficient number to attract purchas
ers. Higher priced males may also
be purchased with economy because of
the much longer period of usefulness.
Avoid Deep Dead-Fnrrowa,
Do not plow your land round and
round the same way, year after year,
unless you want a deep dead-furrow In
the middle that will bear nothing and
be a hard place to cross. When plow
ing for seeding begin at the dead-furrow,
throw the first furrow into the
ditch, wheel the horses about to the
right and drive back to the starting
point, turning a furrow up against the
one Just plowed, This plan, followed
to the end, will leave the land all
smooth and In rood shape.
pjg
Polna In gDnrlnr.
. R. A. Emerson, of the Nebraska ex
periment station, in a recent bulletin,
gives the following recommendations
for, this year's spraying based on the
results secured last year.
1. Spray with Bordeaux mixture
after the clyster buds open, but before
the Individual flower buds open.
2. Spray with Bordeaux add some
poison, such as arsenate of lead, paria
green; etc., as soon as possible after
the blossoms fall, and at any rate be
fore the calyx lobes of the apple close.
- 3. Spray with Bordeaux and poison
three or four weeks after the flowers
fall.
4. Spray with arsenate of lead
about July 20.
5. Spray with arsenate of lead
about August 10.
Use paris green at the rate of one-
fotrth to one-third pound per barrel
of Bordeaux. Use arsenate of lead at
Bordeaux or water.
Make Bordeaux as follows: Blue
stone, four pounds; quicklime, six
pounds ; water, fifty gallons.
Slake the lime, dissolve the blue
stone, dilute each with half the re
quired quantity of water, and mix
thoroughly.
'Use good npssjes as3 E3?.!nta!n a
high pressure as uniformly as possible
In order to distribute the liquid In a
mist-like spray. Take care- to reach
all parts of the trees and to avoid
drenching any part Careless spraying
should not be tolerated.
Wagon Box Devlea.'
There are various ways of removing
a wagon box from the trucks, and one
of these is described In Iowa Home
stead. The upright pole Is 4 by 4 by'14
feet and Is set several feet In the
ground, so that It will, be firm enough
In Its position to stand the strain which
is required of it The platform on
which the rear end of the wagon box
rests when it is to be raised from the
wagon may be made any height so as
to suit the height of the trucks. Two
guy wires should be attached to the
pole a foot or so from Its top and be
secured eight or ten feet jn the rear of
the platform. The rope which is used
BEMOVIKO TfiE WA0ON BOX.
to do the lifting Is attached at one
end of the upright pole near its upper
end. From there It continues on to a
pulley hooked In a rope which passes
arovmd the front end of the wagon box,
then back over a pulley In the top of
the pole and down to a windlass at the
rear end of the platform. When the
wagon box Is In Its final position on the
platform, It, should stand upright and
should be left attached to the rope,"
so that It cannot be blown down In case
of winds. .-
The Family Cow.
Families that keep only one cow
should endeavor to have the best anj
nial that can be procured. More labor
Is required to care for a single cow,
proportionately, than for a herd. . A
cow for the family should give a large
flow of milk for at least ten months of
the year, and the milk should contain
not less than 4 per cent of butter fat,
as cream Is one of the essentials. It
Is better to have a cow that gives even
richer milk, but the majority of fami
ly cows are selected without regard to
merits In that respect It Is difficult
to rear the calves in such cases, hence
In purchasing the family cow It will
be profitable to pay a high price for a
superior animal.
Looking After the Sheep.
The large and oonsrnntiir m.An,in
sheep shipments .of the northwest are
giving the railroad officials some con
cern to provide means for taking care
of the business. One means of relief
has been made in the suggestion of
triple-decked cars for the accommoda
tion of the animals In transit, r
Planting Garden Seed.
It Is time lost, and broken backs, to
undertake the planting of garden seeds
by hand. Use a drill, which puts the
seeds in regularly and evenly, marks
the rows and covers them at the right
depth. There are many handy little
Implements suitable for the garden
that are not In. frequent use. Even a
trowel does excellent service In trans
planting, and a weeder will tear out
the weeds much quicker than can b
done by hand.