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About The Yamhill County reporter. (McMinnville, Or.) 1886-1904 | View Entire Issue (July 19, 1895)
0. R. & N. CO E. McNEILL, Receiver. TO THE GIVES THE CHOICE OF TWO TRANSCONTINENTAL Igl ROUTES ■ PACIPiß I ■ Œ E7. VIA VIA SPOKANE Minneapolis DENVER OMAHA AND AND ST. PAUL KANSAS CY LOW KATES TO ALL EASTERN CITIES. OCEAN STEAMERS Leave Portland Every 5 Days • • FQR • • FBANCISCO SAN For full details call on C. A. WALLACE, McMinnville, Or. Or Address; W. » HI RI.BIHT, Gen. Pass Agl. poii ri.iMi, ok . EAST AND SOUTH VIA The Shasta Route OF THE Express Trains Ideare Portland Dally LEAVE. ARRIVE Portlaud......... «50 P M I San Francisco..1045 A M ben Franciseo.6:UO P M 1 Portland........... 8:10 A M Above trains stop st East Portland, Oregon City, Woodburn, Salem. Turner. Marion. Jefferson, Albany, Albany J unction. Ta uzent.Shedds, Halsey, Harrisburg. Junction City. Irving, Eugene, Cres 'vail, Drains Drahis and all stations from Roseburg to well, Ashland incluaive. Ilo.eburg Hail Daily. LEAVE: ARRIVE: Portland......... 8:30 A M I Roseburg........ .5 2Ö P SI Roseburg........ 8:00 AM I Portland........ 4.40 P M Salem Passenger Dally. LEAVE ARRIVE Portland 4:00 P M I Salem........... 6:15 T M Salem.... ...8.00 A M I Portland .10:15 A M DININS CARS ON OSDEN ROUTE. PULLMHN* BUFFET SLEEPERS ANO SECOND CLASS SLEEPING CARS Attached to all Through Trains. .West Side Division. BETWEEN PORTLAND AND CORVALLIS Mail Train Daily, (Except Sunday.) 7:30 A M I Lv Portland 10-15 A M ! Lv McMinnville 12:15 P MJ Ar____ Curvai lis 3:01 P M 1:00 P M At Albany and Corvallis connect with trains of Or." Central <t Eastern Ry. Express Train Daily, (Except Sunday.) Í.45 P M Lv 7: 5 P M Lv 7:k5 P M Ar Portland St. Joseph McMinnville Ar 1 8:25 A M Lv I 5Ó8 A M Lv 5 53 A M Through Tickets to all points in Eastern States, Canada ami Europe can be obtained ai lowest rates from G. A. Wilcox. Acent, McMinn Ville. E. P. KOGERS, Asst. 0. F, A P. A., Portland, Or. R. KOEHLER, Manager. LOCAL DIRECTORY. CHURCHES B aptist —Services Sunday 11 a. ni. and 7:30p. m ; Sunday school 9 :o0 a m.; th, young people's society 6:lop ui Prayer meeting Thursday 7 :30 p. iu . Covenant meeting first Sat each month 2:00 p. in. E. B. P ace , Pastor. M ethodist E piscopal —Services ever) Sabbath 11:00 a. in. and 7:30 p. iu. Sunday school 9:30 a m. Prayer meeting 7:00 p m. Thursday. L ee T hompson , Pastor. C umb . P resbyterian - Services every Sab bath 11:00a iu and 7:30 p. m. Sunday school 9:30 a. m. Y. P. C. E.. Sunday 6:30 p. m. Prayer meeting Thursday, 7:30 p. in. E E. T hompson , Pastor. C hristian —Preaching at 11a. m. and at 7:30 p. in on the first and third Sundays; on the second and fourth Sundays at 7 :30 until further notice At Carlton on sec ond and fourth Sundays at 11 a. in., and Saturday evening before at 7:30. At No. 8 at 3 p. in on se-ond and fourth Sundays. J ames C ampbell , V. D. M.. Pastor S t . J ames E piscopal C hurcii —Lay-Ser vices every Sunday at 11 o'clock a. m. S t . J ames C atholic —First st., between G and H. Sunday school 2:30 p. in. Ves pers 7:80. Services once a month. T. B riody . Pastor SECRET ORDERS. K nowlzs C hapter N o , 12, O. E. S.—Meets a Masonic hall the first end third Monday evening in each month. Visiting members cordially in vited. C. H. McKINNEY, Sec. MRS. C. W. TALMAGE. W. M. A. O. U. W — Charity Lodge No. 7 meets first and third Fridays of each month. 7:30 p. m. Lodge room in Union block. H. C. BURNS. M. W. J. D. BAKER, Becorder. 10 Yamhill Lodge So. 10 D of H meets in Union hall second and fourth Friday evenings of each month C vsteb P ost N o . 9—Meets the second and fourth Saturday of each month in Union hall at 7:30 p m. on second Saturday and at 10:30 a. m. on 4th Saturday. All members of the order are cordially invited to attend our meetings J. B. S tilwell , Commander. B. F C lcbise . Adjt. W. C T. U.—Meets on everv Fri day at 3 p. m. in reading room, Union block C lara G E»sox,Pres. J as six G allextine . Sec’y stam WW eyma M’. AfiTMOf^ OF “ THE Mfifi IN gLACt^” “ a GENTLEMAN OFFHANCC”/£TCE,C. COPYRIGHT 189.1, BY CAS5EILPUBLISHINC CO^ALL RlGHTi RESERVES more blood were shed, it might still bo possible to get some terms. I laid the pot down by the side of the window as a weapon to be used only in the last resort. Meanwhile the duchess, posted in the dark, had beard the noise of the window being driven in and cried out pitifully to kDow what it was “Stand firm!” I shout ed loudly. “StaDd firm. We are safe as yet!” Even the uproar without seemed to abate a little as the first fury of the mob died down. Probably their leaders wero con certing fresh action. I went and knelt be- sldo Master Bertie and made a thorough examination of his wound. He bad re ceived a nasty blow on the back of the bead, from which the blood was still ooz ing, and ho was insensiblo. His face looked very long and thin and deathlike; but, so far as I could ascertain, the bones were uninjured, and he was now breath ing more quietly. “I think he will recov er,” I said, easing his clothes. Anne was crouching on the other side of him. As sho did not answer, I looked up at her. Her lips were moving, but the only word I caught was “Clarence!” I did not wonder she was distraught. I had work enough to koep my own wits. But I wanted her help, and I repeated loudly, “Anne, Anne!” trying to rouse her. She looked past me, shuddering. “Heav en forgive you!” she muttered. “You have brought me to this! And now I must die! I must die here! In the net they have set for others is their own foot tak en!” She was quite beside herself with ter ror. I saw that sho was not addressing me, and I had not time to make sense of her wanderings. I left her and went out to speak to the duchess. Poor woman! Even her brave spirit was giving way. I felt her cold hands tremble as I took the halbert from her. "Go into the room awhile,” I said softly. “He is not serious ly hurt, I am sure. I will guard this. If any one appears at the window, Bcream.” She went gladly, and I took her place, having now to do double duty. I had been there a few minutes only, listening, with my soul in my ears, to detect tho first signs of attaok, either below me or in the room behind, when I distinguished a strange rustling sound on the staircase. It appeared to come from a point a good deal below mo, and probably whoever made it was just within the doorway. I peered into the gloom, but could see no one os yet ‘‘Stand!” I cried in a tono of warn ing. "Who is that?” The sound ceased abruptly, but it left me uneasy. Could they be going to blow us up with gunpowder? No! I did not think so. They would not care to ruin the gateway for the sake of capturing so small a party. And the tower was strong. It would not be easy to blow it up Yet in a short time the noise began again, and my fears returned with it. "Standi” I cried savagely, "or take care of yourself!” The answer was a flash of bright light, which for.a second showed the rough stone walls winding away at my feet, a stunning report and the pattering down of half a dozen slugs from the roof. I laughed, my first start over. “You will have to come a little higher up!” I cried tauntingly as I smelled the fumes. My eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness that I felt sure I should detect an assailant, however warily ho might make his approach, and my halbert was seven feet long, so that I could reach as far as I could see. I had bad time, too, to grow cool. After this there was comparative quiet for another space. Every now and then a stone, or, more rarely, the ball of an arque bus, would oome whizzing into the room above. But 1 did not fear this. It was easy to keep under cover. And their shouting no longer startled me. I began to see a glimpse of hope. It was plain that the townsfolk wero puzzled how to come at us without suffering great loss. They were unaware of our numbers, and, as it proved, believed that we had three uninjured men at least. Tho staircase was impracticable as a point of assault, and the window, being only three feet in height and 20 from the ground, was not much better, if defended, as they expected it would be, by a couple of desperate swordsmen. I was not muoh astonished, therefore, when the rustling sound, beginning again at the foot of the staircase, came this time to no more formidable issue than a hail in Spanish. “Will you surrender?” the en voy cried. “No!” I said roundly “Who are you?” was the next question. “We are English!” I answered. He went then, and there for the time the negotiations ended. But, seeing the dawn of hope, I was the more afraid of any trap or surprise, and I cried to the duchess to be on her guard. For this rea son, too, the suspense of the next few min utes was almost more trying than any thing which bad gone before. But the minutes came at last to an end. A voice I bore it swiftly to site window. below cried loudly in English: “Holloa! Are you friends?” PROBATE NOTICE "Yes, yes,” I replied joyfully before the words had well ceased to rebound HE undersigned having been by the honora from the walls, for the voice and accent ble county court of Yamhill county. Oregon, were Master Lindstrom's. A cry of relief duly appointed executors of the will of Charles from tbe room behind me showed that Handley, deceased, late of said Yamhill county, there, too, the speaker was recognized. all persons having claims against the said estate are hereby notified to present the same duly ver The duchess came running to tho door, ified to J. B. Handley, executor, within six but I begged her to go back and keep a months from the date hereof. good lookout, and (he obeyed. McMlnnvLle. Or., June’. 1895. “How come you here? How has it hap J B. HANDLEY’, EC. HANDLEY, pened?” Master Lindstrom asked, his Executors. voice, though he still remained below, be traying bis perplexity and unhappiness. “Can I not do something? This Is terri ble indeed.” “You can come up, If you like,” I an swered after a moment’s thought. “But you mu6t come alone, and I cannot let even you, friend as you are, see our de YAQUINA BAY ROUTE fenses. ' ’ As he came np I stepped back and drew Connecting at Yaquina Bay with the San the door of tbe room toward me, so that, Francisco and Taquina .Bay Steam though a little light reached the head of ship Company. the stairs, he could not, standing there, see into the room or discern our real weak STEAMSHIP “FARALLON” ness. I did Dot distrust him—heaven for bid’—but he might have to tell all he caw A 1, and first-class in every respect. to bis friends below, and I thought it Sails from Yaquina for San Francisco well, for his sake as well as our own, that about everv eight days. Passenger ac he should be able to do this freely and commodations unsurpassed. Shortest without hurting us. As he joined me I route between the Willamette valley and held up a finger for silence and listened California. keenly. But all was quiet below. No one Fare from Albany or pointe west to had followed him. Then I turned and San Francisco: warmly grasped his hands, and we peered into one another’s faces. I saw he was Cabin............................. $12.00 deeply moved; that he was thinking of Steerage........................... 8.00 Dymphna and how I had saved her. He Cabin, round trip, good 60 days IS.00 held my bands as though he would never For sailing dates apply to, loose them. “Well,” I said as cheerfully as I could, H. L. WALDEN, Agent, Albany, Or. “havo you brought us an offer of terms? But let me tell you first,” I continued, EDWIN STONE, Manager, “how it happened.” And I briefly ex Corvallis, Or. plained that we had mistaken the captain ChAS. CLARK, Supt.. Corvcllls, Or. of the guard and his two followers for T Oregon Central & Eastern R. R. Co. Clarence and tho two Spaniards. “Is be dead?” I continued. “No; he is still alive, ’ Master Lind strom answered gravely. ‘ But the towns- folk are furious, and the seizure of the tower has still further exasperated them. Why did you do it?” “ Because we should have beeD torn to pieces if we had not done it, ” I answered dryly. “You think we aro in a strait place?” “Do you not think so yourself'" he said, somewhat astonished. I laughed. “That is as may be,” I an swered, with an affectation of reckless ness. "The staircase is narrow and the window low. We shall sell our lives dear ly, my friend. Yet for tho sake of the women who are with us we are willing to surrender if the citizens offer us terms. After all, it was an accident. Cannot you impress this on them?” I added eagerly. Ho shook his head. “They will not bear reason, ’ ’ he said. “Then,” I replied, “impress the other thing upon them. Tell them that our swords are sharp and we aro desperate.” “I will see wbatlcan do,” he answered slowly. “The Duke of Cleves is expected hero tomorrow, aDd the townsfolk feci they would be disgraced forever if he should find their gate held by a party of marauders, as they consider you.” “Tbe Duke of Cleves?” I repeated. “Perhaps ho may be better affected to ward us.” “They will overpower you before he comes,” Master Lindstrom answered de- de spondently. “I would put no trust in him if I were you. But I will go to them, and, believe me, I will do all that man can do. ’ ’ “Of that I am sure,” I said warmly. And then, cautioning me to remain strict ly on the defensive, he left mo. Before his footsteps had ceased to echo on tho stairs the door beside me opened, and Mistress Anne appeared at it. I saw at once that his familiar voice had roused her from the stupor of fear in which I had last seen her. Her eyes were bright; her whole frame was thrilling with excite ment, hope, suspense. I began to under stand her, to discern beneath the disguise thrown over it in ordinary times by a strong will the nervous nature which was always confident or despairing, which felt everything so keenly—everything, that is, which touched itself. “Well?” sho cried, “Well?” “Patience! Patience!” I replied rather sharply. I oould not help comparing her conduct with that of the duchess and blaming her not for her timidity, but for the selfishness which she had betrayed in her fear. I could fancy Petronilla trem bling and a coward, but not despairing, nor utterly cast down, nor useless when others needed her, nor wrapped in her own terrors to the very exclusion of rea son. “Patience!” I said. “Ho is coming back. He and his friends will do all they can for us. We must wait awhile and hope and keep a good lookout.” She had her hand on tbe door, and by an abrupt movement she slipped out to me and closed it behind her. This made the staircase so dark that I could no longer distinguish her face, but I judged from her tone that her fears were regaining pos session of her. “Clarence,” she muttered, her voice low and trembling. “Have you thought of him? Could not be help us? He may have followed us here and may be here now. Now! And perhaps he does not know In what danger we are.” “Clarence!” I said, astonished and al- most angry. “Clarence help us? Go back, girl, go back. You are mad. Ho would bo moro likely to complete our ruin. Goin and nurse the baby, ” I added bit terly. What could she mean? I asked myself when she had gone in. Was there any- thing in her suggestion? Would Clarence follow us hither? If so, and if be should come in time, would he have power to help us, using such mysterious influence, Spanish or English, as he seemed to pos sess? And, If he could help us, would it be better to fall into his hands than into those of the exasperated Santonese? I thought the duchess would say “No!” So it mattered not what I answered my self. I hoped, now Master Lindstrom had appeared, that the women would bo allowed to go free, and it seomed to me that to surrender to Clarence would be to hand over the duchess to her enemy sim ply that tho rest of us might escape. Master Lindstrom returned while I was still considering this, and observing the same precautions as before I hade him juin me. "Well,” I said, not so Impetu ously, I hope, as Mistress Anne, yet I dare say with a good deal of eagerness, “well, what do they say?” For he was slow to speak. “I have bad news,” he answered gently. “Ah,” I ejaoulated, a lump which was due as much to rage as to any other emo tion rising in my throat. “So they will give ue no terms? Thon so belt! Let them come and take us.” "Nay,” be hastened to answer. “It is not so bad as that, lad. They are fathers ! and busbands themselves, and not lanz- \ knechts. They will suffer the women to go free and will even let me take charge of them if necessary.” “They will!” I exclaimed, overjoyed. I wondered why on earth be had hesitated to tell me this. “Why, that is the main point, friend.” “Yes,” he said gravely, “perhaps 60. More, the men may go, too, if tbe tower be surrendered witbin un hour—with one exception, that is. Tho man wbo struck the blow must be given up.” “Tho man wbo struck the blow!” I re peated slowly. “Do you mean—you mean tho man wbo cut the patrol down?” "Yes,” ho said. He was peering very closely at me, as though he would learn from my face who it was. And I stood thinking. This was as much as we could expect. I divined, and most truly, that but for the honest Dutchman’s influence, promisos, perhaps bribes, such terms would never have been offered to us by the men who, hours before, had driven us to bold as if we bad been vermin. Yet give up Master Bertie? "What,” I said, “will bo done to him? The mau who must bo given up, I mean?” Master Lindstrom shook bis head. "It was an accident,” I urged, my eyes on bls. He grasped my band firmly, and turn ing away his face seemod for awhile un able to speak. At last be whispered: “He must suffer for the others, lad. I fear so. It is a hard fate, a cruel fate. But I can do no more. They will not hear me on this. It is true he will be first tried by tho magistrate, but there is no hope. They are very hard.” My heart sank. I stood irresolute, pon dering on what we ought to do, pondering on what I should say to the wife who so loved the mau who must die. What could I say? Yet somehow I must break the news. I asked Master Lindstrom to wait where be was while I consulted the others, adding, “You will answer for it that there will be no attack while you are here, I suppose?” “I will,” he said. I knew I could trust him, and I wont in to the duchess, closing tho door behind me A change bad come over the room since I had left it. Tho moon had risen aud was flinging its cold white light through the twisted and shat tered framework of the window to fail in three bright panels on the floor. The torches in the street bad for tbe most part burned out or been extinguished. Ir^.luce of the red glare, the shouts and tbe crash of glass, the atmosphere of battle and strife I bad left, I found this silvery light and a stillness made more apparent by tbe distant hum of many voices. Mistress Anne was standing just within the threshold, her face showing pale against tbe gloom, her hands clasped. Tbe duchess was kneeling by her husband, but ehe looked up as I entered. “They will let us all go," I said bluntly— it was best to tell tbe tale at once—“ex cept tbe one who hurt tbe patrol, that is.” It was strange how differently tbe two women received the news. While Mistress Anne flung her bands to her face with a sobbing cry of thankfulness and leaned against the wall crying aud shaking, my lady stood up straight and still, breathing hard, but saying nothing. I saw that she did not need to usk what would be dono to the one who was excepted. She knew. “No, ” 6he murmured at last, her bqnds pressed to her bosom, “we cannot do it!" “I fear we must, ’’ I said gently, calmly, too, I think. Yet in saying it I was not quite myself. Au odd sensation was grow ing upon me in the stillness of the room. I began on a sudden, I did not know why, to thrill with excitement, to tremble with nervousness, such as would rather have become one of the women than a man. My head grew hot, my heart began to beat quickly. I caught myself looking out, listening, waiting for something to hap pen, something to be said. It was some thing more terrible, as it seemed to me, than the din and crash of the worst mo ments of the assault. What was it? What was it that was threatening my being? An instant and I knew. "Ob, no, novor!” cried tho duchess again, her voice quivering, her face full of keenest pain. “Wo will not give you up. Wo will stand or fall together, friend.” Give you up! Give you up! Ha! The veil was lifted now, and I saw what tbe something with tho cold breath going be fore it was I looked quietly from her to her husband, and I asked—I fancy she thought my question strangely Irrelevant at that moment: “How is be? Is be bet ter?” “Much better. He knew me for a mo ment, ” she answered. “Then beseemed to sink away again, but his eyes were quite clear.” I stood gazing down at bis thin face, which had ever looked 60 kindly into mine. My fingers played idly with the knot of my sword. “He will live?” I asked abruptly, harshly. She started at tho sudden question; but, brutal as it must have sounded, sho was looking at me in pity so great and gener ous that it did not wound her. “Oh, yes,” she said, her eyes still clinging to me. “1 think he will live, thank heaven!” Thank heaven! Ah, yes, thank heaven! I turned and went slowly toward the door, but before I reached it she was at my side—nay, was on her knees by me— clasping my hand, looking up to me with streaming eyes. “What aro you going to do?” she cried, reading, I suppose, some thing in my face. “I will see if Master Lindstrom cannot get better terms for us,” I answered. She rose, still detaining me. “You are sure?" she said, still eying me jealously. “Quite sure,” I answered, forcing a smile. “I will come back and report to you. ’ ’ 6bo let mo go then, and I went out and joined Lindstrom on tbe staircase. “Are you certain,” I asked, speaking in a whisper, “that they will; that the town will keep its word and let the others go?” “Iam quite sure of it,” he replied, nod ding. “They are Germans, and hard and pitiless, but you may trust them. So far I will answer for them.” “Then wo accept,” I said gravely. “I give myself up. Let them take me. ” CHAPTER XV. I had not seen the first moonbeams pierce the broken casement of the tower room, but I was there to watch the last tiny patch of silver glide aslant from wall to sill and sill to frame and so pass out. Near the Are, whiob had been made up and now glowed and crackled bravely on tho hearthstone at my elbow, my three jailers had set a mattress for me, and on this I sat, my back to the wall and my face to the window. The guards lounged on the other 6ide of the hearth round a lantern, playing dice and drinking. They were rough, hard men, whose features, as they leaned over the tablo and the light played strongly on their faces, blazoning them against a wall of shadow, were stern and rugged enough. But they had not shown themselves unkindly. They had given me a share of their wine and had pointed to the window and shrugged their shoulders, as much as to say that it was my own fault if I suffered from the draft. Nay, from time to time one of them would turn from bis game and look at me, in pity, I think, and utter a ourso that was meant for encouragement. Even when the first excitement had passed away I felt none of the stupefaction which I have heard that men feel in such a position. My brain was painfully active In vain I longed to sleep, if it were only that I might not bethought to fear death. But the fact that I was to be tried first, though the sentence was a certainty, dis tracted and troubled me. My thoughts paced from thing to thing, now dwelling on the duchess and her husband, now flit ting to Petronilla and Sir Anthony, to the aid place at home and the servants, to strange, petty things, long familiar—a tree in the chase at Coton, a herb I had planted. Once a great lump rose in my throat, and I had to turn away to hide the hot tears that would rise at the thought that I must die in this mean German town, in this unknown oorner, and be buried and forgotten! And once, too, to torment mo there roso a doubt in my mind whether Master Bertie would recover, whether indeed I had not thrown my life away for nothing. But it was too late to think of that, and the doubt, which the evil one himself must have suggested, so terrible was it, passed away quickly. My thoughts raced, but the night crawled. We had surrendered about 10, and the magistrates, less pitiful than the jailers, had forbidden my friends to stay with me. An hour or more after midnight two of the men lay down, and the other sat humming a drinking song, or at inter vals rose to yawn and stretch himself and look out of the window. From time to time the cry of the watchman going his rounds came drearily to my cars, recalling to me the night I had spent behind the boarding in Moorgate street, when the ad venture which was to end tomorrow— nay, today, in a few hours—had lured me away. Today? Was I to die today? To perish, with all my plans, hopos, love? It Beemed impossible. As I gazed at the win dow, whose shape began to be printed on my brain, it seemed impossible. My soul so rose in rebellion against it that the per spiration stood on my brow, and I bad to clasp my bands about my knees and strain every muscle to keep in the cry I would have uttered—a cry, not of fear, but of rage and remonstrance and revolt. I was glad to see the first streaks of dawn, to hear the first cock crowlngs, and, a few minutes later, the voices of men in the street and on the stairs. The sounds of day and life acted magically upon me. The horror of the night passed off as does the horror of a drcam. When a man, heavily cloaked and with bis head covered, came in, the door being 6hut be hind him by another band, I looked up at him bravely. The worst was past. He replied by looking down at me for a few moments without disclosing himself, the collar of bis cioak being raised so high that I could see nothing of his features. My first notion that he must be Master Lindstrom passed away, and, displeased by his silent scrutiny and thinking him a stranger, I said sharply, “I hope you are satisfied, sir.” “Satisfied?” he replied in a voice which made me start so that the irons clanked on my feet. “Well, I think I should bo— seeing you so, my friend!” It was Clarence! Of all men, Clarence! I knew his voice, and he, seeing himself recognized, lowered his cloak. I stared at him in stupefied silence, and be at me in a grim curiosity. I was not prepared for the blunt abruptness with which be con tinued, using almost the very words he had used when face to face with me in the flood, “Now tell me who you are, and what brought you into this company?’ I gave him no answer. I still stared at him in silence. “Come,” he continued, his hawk's eyes bent on my face, “make a clean breast of it, and perhaps—who knows?—I may help you yet, lad. You have puzzled and foiled me, and I want to understand you. Where did my lady pick you up just when she wanted you? I bad arranged for every checker on the board exoept you. Who are you?” This time I did answer him—by a ques tion. "How many times have we met?” I askod. “Three,” he said readily, “and the last time you nearly rid the world of me. Now tho luck is against you. It generally is in the end against those who thwart me, my friend.” He chuckled at tho con ceit, and I read in his face at once his love of intrigue and bis vanity. “I come uppermost, as always.” I only nodded. “ What do you want?” I asked I felt a certain expectation. He wanted some thing. “First to know who you are.” “I shall not tell you!” I answered. He smiled dryly, sitting opposite to me. He bad drawn up a stool and mado him self comfortable. He was not an uncome ly man as he sat there playing with his dagger, a dubious smile on his lean, dark face. Unwarned, I might have been at tracted by the masterful audacity, the in tellect as well as the force which I saw stamped on bis features. Being warned, I read cunning in his bold eyes and cruel ty in the curl of his lip. “What do you want next?” I asked. “I want to save your life, ” he replied lightly. At that I started. I could not help it. "Ha! ha!” he laughed. “I thought the stoicism did not go quito down to the bot tom, my lad. But, there, it is true enough, I have come to help you. I have come to savo your life if you will let me.” I strove in vain to keep entire mastery over myself. The feelings to which be ap pealed were too strong for me. My voice sounded strange, even in my own ears, as I said hoarsely: “It is impossible! What can you do?” “What can I do?” he answered, with a stern smile. “Much! I have, boy, a dozen strings in my hands and a neck, a life at the end of each!” He raised Ills hand, and extending the fingers moved them to and fro. “See! see! A life, a death!” he ex claimed. "And for you I can and will save your life—on one condition.” “On one condition?” I murmured. “Aye, on one condition, but it is a very easy one. I will save your life on my part, and you on yours must give me a little assistance. Do you see? Then wo shall be quits.” "I do not understand,” I said dully. I did not. His words bad set my heart flut tering so that I could forth« moment take in only one idea—that here was a new hope of life. “It is very simple,” he resumed, speak ing slowly. “Certain plans of mine re quire that I should get your friend tho duchess conveyed back to England. But for you I should have succeeded before this. In what you have hindered me you can now help me. You have their confi dence and great influence with them. All I ask is that you will use that influence so that they may be at a certain place at a certain hour. I will contrive the rest. It shall never be known I promise you, that you”— “Betrayed them!” “Well, gave me some information, ” bo said lightly, puffing away my phrase. "No; betrayed them!” I persisted. “Put it so, if you please,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders and raising his eyebrows. “What is in a word?” “You are the tempter himself, Ithlnk!” I cried in bitter rage—for it was bitter— bitter indeed to feel that newborn hope die out. “But you come to me in vain. I defy you!” “Softly, softly!” ho answered, with calmness. Yet I saw a little pulse beating in his cheek that seemed to tell of some emotion kept in subjection. “It frightens you at first,” he said. "But listen. You will do thorn no barm »nd yourself good. I shall get them any way, both the duchess and her husband, though, without your aid, it will be more difficult. Why, help of that kind is given every day. They need never know it. Even now there is one of whom you little ilream who has”— "Silence!” I cried fiercely. “I care not. I defy you!” I could think of only one thing. I was wild with rage and disappointment. His words had aggravated the pain of every regret, every clinging to lifo I felt. “Go!” I cried. “Go and leave me, you villain!” "If I do leave you,” he said, fixing bis eyes on me, “it will be, my friend—to death.” “Then so be it!” I answered wildly. "So be it! I will keep my honor.” “Your honor!” Tho mask dropped from bis face, and he sneered as he rose from bis seat. A darker scowl changod and dis figured bls brow as be lost hope of gain “I can and will save your life—on one condition.” ing me. “Your honor? Where will it be by tonight?” be hissed, bis eyes glowering down at me. “Where a week hence, when you will be cast into a pit and forgotten? Your honor, fool? What is tbe honor of a dead man? Pah! But die, then, if you will have it so! Die, like tbe brainless brute you are, and rot and be forgotten!” be concluded passionately. They were terrible words, more terrible I know now than either he or I understood then. They so shook me that when he was gone I crouched, trembling, on my pallet, hiding my face in a lit of horror, taking no heed of my jailers or of appear ances. “Die aDd be forgotten! Die and be forgotten!'' The doom rang I d my ears. Something which seemed to me angelic roused me from this misery. It was tbe sound of a kindly, familiar voice speaking English. I looked up and found the Dutchman bending over me with a face of infinite distress. With him, but rather behind him, stood Van Tree, pale and vicious eyed, tugging his scanty beard aud gazing about him like a dog seeking some one to fasten upon. “Poor lad! Poor lad!” the old man said, his voice shaking as be looked at me. I sprang to my feet, the irons rattling as I dashed my hand across my eyes. “It is all right!” I said hurriedly. “I bad a—but never mind that. It was like a dream. Only tell tbe duchess to look to herself,” I continued, still rather vehemently. ‘’Clarence is here. He is in Santon. I have seen him.” “You have 6een him?” both the Dutch men cried at once. “Aye,” I said, with a laugh that was three parts hysterical—indeed I was still tingling all over with excitement. “He has been here to offer me my life if I would help him in his schemes. I told him he was the tempter and defied him, and he—he said I should die and be for gotten!” I added trembling, yet laughing wildly at the same time. “I think he is tho tempter!” »aid Master Lindstrom solemnly, bls face very grim, “and therefore a liar and the father of lies! You may die, lad, today—perhaps you must—but forgotten you shall not be while we live, or ono of us lives, or one of the children who shall como after us. He is a liar!” I got my bands, with a struggle, from tbe old man, and turning my back upon him went and looked out of tbe window. The sun was rising. The tower of the great minster, seen now for the first time, rose in stately brightness above the red roofs and quaint gables and the rows of dormer windows. Down in tbe streets the grayness and chill yet lingered, but above was a very glory of light and warmth and color—the rising of the May sun. When I turned round, I was myself again. The calm beauty of that sight bad stolen into my soul. “Is it time?” I 6aid cheerfully. For the crowd was gathering below, and there were voice« and feet on the statTe. “I think It [s/’Master Lindstrom an- swered. “We have obtained leave to go with you. You need fear no violence in the streets, for the man who was hurt is still alive and may recover. I have been with the magistrates this morning,” he continued, “and found them better dis posed to you, but the subdean has joint jurisdiction with them, as the deputy of tho bishop of Arras, who is dean of tho minster, and be is, for some reason, very bitter against you.” “The bishop of Arras? Granville, do you mean?” I asked. 1 knew the name of tho emperor's shrewd and powerful minister, by whoso advice the Netherlands were at this time ruled. “The same. He, of course, is not here, but bis deputy is. Were it not for him— But, there, it is no good talking of that!” tho Dutchman said, breaking off and rub bing his head in his chagrin. One of the guards who had spent the night with me brought me at this mo ment a bowl of broth with apiece of bread in it. I could not cat the bread, but I drank the broth and felt the better for it. Having in my pocket a little money, with which tho duchess had furnished me, I put a silver piece in the bowl and banded it back to him. The man seemed aston ished and muttered something in German as he turned away. “What did he say?” I asked the Dutch man. “Oh, nothing, nothing,” he answered. “But what was it? It was something,” I persisted, seeing him confused. “He—well, he said be would have a mass said for you!” Lindstrom answered in despair. “It will do no harm.” •‘No; why should it?” I replied mechan ically. We were in the street by this time, Mas ter Lindstrom and Van Tree walking be side mo in the middle of a score of sol diers. v. lio seemed to my eyes fantastically dressed. I remarked, as we passed out, a tall man clothed in red and black, who was standing by the door as if waiting to fall in ' behind me. Ho carried on his sboulder a long broad bladed sword, and I guessed who ho was, soeing how Master Lindstrom strove to intercept my view of him. But I was not afraid of that. I had heard long ago—perhaps six months in time, but it seemed long ago—how brave ly Queen Jane had died. Aud if a girl had not trembled surely a man should not. So I looked steadfastly at him and took great eourage, and after that was able to gaze calmly on the people, who pressed to stare at mo, peeping over the soldiers’ shoulders and clustering in every doorway and win dow to see me go past. They were all si lent, and it oven seemed to me that 6omo —but this may have been my fancy— pitied me. I saw nothing of the duchess and might have wondered had not Master Lindstrom explained that he bad contrived to koep her in ignorance of the hour fixed for the proceedings. Her husband was better, he said, and conscious; but, for fear of excit ing him, they were keeping tho news from him also. I remember I felt for a moment very sore at this, and then I tried to per suade myself that it was right. The distance through the streets was short, and almost before I was aware of it I was in tho courthouse, the guard had falleu back, and I was standing before three per sons who were seated behind a long table. Two of them were grave, portly men wearing flat black caps and scarlet robes, with gold chains about their necks. The third, dressed as an ecclesiastic, wore a huge gem ring upon his thumb. Behind them stood three attendants holding a sword, a corsier and a ducal cap upon a cushion, and above and behind all was a lofty stained window, whose rich hues, the sun being low as yet, shot athwart the corbels of the roof. At the end of the ta ble sat a black robed man with an ink horn and spectacles, a grave, still, down looking man, and the crowd being behind me, and preserving a dead silence, and the attendants standing like statues, I seemed indeed to bo alone with these four at the table and the great 6tained window and the solemn hush. They talked to one another in low tones for a minute, gazing at me the while, and I fancied they were astonished to find me so young. At length they all fell back into their chairs. “Do you epeak German?” tho eld est burgher said, addressing me gravely. He sat in the middle, with the subdeau on his right. “No, but I speak and understand Span ish,” I answered in that language, feeling chilled already by the stern formality which like an iron hand was laying its grip upon me. “Good! Your name?” replied the pres ident. “I am commonly called Francis Carey, and I am an Englishman.” The subdean —be was a pale, stout man, with gloomy eyes—had hitherto been looking at me in evident doubt, but at this he nodded as sent, and averting his eyes from mo gazed meditatively at the roof of the hall, con sidering apparently what be should have for breakfast. “You are charged,” said the president slowly, consulting a document, “with iiaving assaulted and wounded in the highway last night one Heinrich Schroder, a citizen of this town, acting at the time as lieutenant of the night guard. Do you admit this, prisoner, or do you require proof? ’ ’ “He was wounded,” I answered stead ily, “but by mistake and in error I sup posed him to be one of three persons who had unlawfully waylaid me and my party on the previous night between Emmerich and Wesel.” The subdean, still gazing at the roof, shook his head with a faint smile. The other magistrates looked doubtfully at me, but made no comment, and my words seemed to be wasted on the silence. The president consulted his document again and continued: “You are also charged with having, by force of arms, in time of peace, seized agateof this town and main tained it and declined to surrender it when called upon so to do. What do you say to that?” “It is true in part,” I answered firmly. “I seized not the gate, but part of the tower, in order to preserve my life and to protect certain ladies traveling with me from the violence of a crowd, which, un der a misapprehension, was threatening to do us a mischief.” The priest again shook his bead and smiled faintly at the carved roof. His col leagues were perhaps somewhat moved in my favor, for a few words passed between them. However, in the end they shook their heads, and the president mechanical ly asked me if I bad anything further to say. "Nothing!” I replied bitterly. The ec clesiastic’s cynical beedlessness, his air of one whose mind is made up, seemed so cruel to me, whose life was at stake, that I lost patience. “Except what I have said,” i continued, "that for the wounding, it was done in error, and for tho gate seiz ing. I would do it again to save the lives of those with me. Only that and this— that I am a foreigner ignorant of your language and customs, desiring only to pass peacefully through your country.” “ThatIs all?” the president asked Im passively. “All,” I answered, yet with a strange tightening at my throat Was it all? All I could say for my life? I was waiting, sore and angry and des perate, to hear the sentence, when there came an interruptiou. Master Lindstrom, whose presence at my side I had forgot ten, broke suddenly into a torrent of im passioned words, and bis urgent voice, ringing through the court, seemed in a moment to change its aspect—to infuse into it some degree of life aud sympathy. More than one guttural exclamation, which seemed to mark approval, burst from the throng at the back of the hall. In another moment, indeed, tbe Dutch man’s courage might have saved me, but there was one who marked the danger. The subdean, who had at first only glow ered at the speaker in rude astonishment, now cut him short with a harsh question. “One moment, Master Dutchman!” he cried. “Are you one of tbe heretics who call themselves Protestants?" “I am. But I understand that there is here liberty of conscience,” our friend an swered manfully, nothing daunted in his fervor at finding the attack turned upon himself. “That depends upon the conscience,” the priest answered, with a scowl. “We will have no Anabaptists here nor foreign I praters to bring us into feud with our neighbors. It is enough that such meu as i you are allowed to live. We will not be boarded by you. So take warning! Take heed, I say, Master Dutchman, and be si lent!” he repeated, leaning forward and clapping his hand upon the table. I touched Master Lindstrom's sleeve, who would of himself have persisted, and staid him. “It is of no use,” I muttered. Mexican Mustang Liniment “That dog in a crochet has condemned me. He will have his way!” There was a short debate between the throe judges, while in the court you might have beard a piu drop. Master Lindstrom bad fallen back once more. I was alone again, and the stained window seemed to be putting forth its mystic influence to infold me, when, looking up, I saw a tiny shadow flit across the soft, many hued rays which streamed from it athwart the roof. It passed again, once, twice, thrice. I peered upward intently. It was a swal low flying to and fro amid the carved work. Yes, a swallow, and straightway 1 for got the judges, forgot th« crowd. The scene vanished, and I was at Coton End again, giving Martin Luther the nest for Petronilla, a sign, as I meant it then, that I should return. I should never return now. Yet my heart was on a sudden so softened that, instead of this reflection giv ing me pain, as one would have expected, it only filled me with a great anxiety to provide for the event. She must not wait and watch for me day after day, perhaps year after year. I must see to it somehow, and I was thinking with such intentness of this that it was only vaguely I beard the sentence pronounced. It might have been some other person who was to be be headed at the east gate an hour before noon. A nd so God save the duke! for Burns, Caked & Inflamed Udders. Piles, Rheumatic Pains, Bruises and Strains, Running Sores, Inflammations, Stiff joints, Harness & Saddle Sores, Sciatica, Lumbago, Scalds, Blisters, Insect Bites, All Cattle Ailments, All Horse Ailments, All Sheep Ailments, CHAPTER XVI. They took me back to the room in the tower, it being now nearly 10 o’clock. Mas ter Lindstrom would fain have staid with me constantly to the end; but, having the matter I have mentioned muob in my mind, I begged him to go and get mo writing materials. When he returned, Van Tree was with him With a particu larity very curious at that moment, I re marked that the latter was carrying some thing. “Where did you get that!”' I said sharp ly and at once. “It is your haversack,” he answered, setting it down quietly. “I found the man who bad taken possession of your horse and got it from him. I thought there might be something In it you might Mustang Liniment conquer! like.” Pain, “It is my haversack,” I assented, “but Makes Han or Beast well it was not on my horse I have not seen again. it since I left it in Master Liudstrom's bouse by the river. 1 left it on the pallet in my room there, and It was forgotten. I searched for it at Emmerich, you re member.” •‘I only know,” he replied, “that I dis covered it behind the saddle of the horse you were riding yosterday.” He thought tnat I had become confused Tlio*. F. Oike>, Henry C. Payne. Henry C. and was a little wrong beaded from ex House, Receiver*. cltement. Master Lindstrom also felt troubled, as be told me afterward, at see ing me taken up with a trifle at such a time. But there was nothing wrong with my wits, as I promptly showed them. Penetrates Muscle, Membrane and Tissue Quickly to the Very Seat of Pain and Ousts it in a Jiffy. Rub in Vigorously. NORTHERN PACIFIC To be Continued. Ru ia TAVERN OF Castle Crags 0 Opens June 1,1895 z Geo. Schonewuld, Manager. I- D 0 Luxury, Good Cheer, Hospitality, Delightful and Healthful Pastimes, Matchless Mountain Scenery. N . S Pullman Sleeping Cars Elegant Dining C ars Tourist Sleeijing Cars ST. PAUL SWEET BRIER CAMP. MINNEAPOLIS DULUTH Established last year in a romantic deli of the Sacramento Canyon, Just below and in full view ol grand old Shasta. It was n great hit, and promises even more en couraging results for the present year T. J. L oftub , at Castella, is still in charge und will answer all inquiries. FARGO_______ GRAND FORKS TO CROOKSTON A new candidate for public favor this year is WINNIPEG HELLEN A and SHASTA VICINOCAMP Also in the Shasta region,about a mile aud BUTTE a half from Dunsmuir. It is a genuine paradise for hunters, fishers and seekers of health and pleasure. Easy to reach (near the railroad), sightly, and all the necessities of camp life easily procurable. All inquiries about Shasta VicinoCamp, CHICAGO if addressed to W. C. Gray, box 4, Duns WASHINGTON muir, Cal., will receive prompt attention. PHILADELPHIA CAMPING IN THE NEW YORK SANTA CRUZ MOUNTAINS BOSTON AND ALL Alma. Wrights, Laurel, Glenwood, Felton, POINTS EAST aud SOUTH Ben Lomond, Boulder Creek. For information, time cards, maps or REDUCED RATES tickets, call on or write During the Camping season will be C. H. FLEMING, Agent. made by the THROUGH TICKETS TO (/) McMINNVlLLE. SOUTHERN PACIFIC CO. For full particulars address E. P KOGERS, Asst.Gen. Pass. Agent, Portland, Oregon. A.D.CHARLTON, Asst.Gen.Pas.Agt. 295 MORRISON Sv. COR 30. PORTLAND, ORECON. 7" G REAT • • • • N orthern R ailway The New Way East THE SHORT ROUTE And O. H. & N. ( o ’l Leased Lilie«. TO ALL POINTS IN Washington, Idaho, Montana, Dakota, Minnesota and the East. Through Tickets On Sale J CHICAGO To and From < WASHINGTON ST. L0UI8 NEW YORK PHILADELPHIA ÖOSTON And All Pointe in the United State«, Canada and Europe. The GREAT NORTHERN RY. is a new transcontinental line. Run» Burt'- et-Library-Observation care, palace sleeping and dining cars, family tourist eleei- ers and first and second-clans coaches. Having a rock ballast Ira k, the GREAT NORTHERN RY. is free from duet, one of the chief annoyances of transcontinen tal travel. Round trip tickets with stop-over privileges and choice of return routes. For further information call upon or write A. H. PAPE, Agent, McMinnville, Oregon Or C. C. DONAVAN, General Agent, 122Third St., Portland, Ore. 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