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THE DAILY EXAMINER, CHARLOTTETOWN, JANUARY 15 1898,

ELON ~~ wai aude eevee WWW ewe veer ea tae eWNW O22 a = THE SIEGE OF z 3 | ou = £ = : SUNDA GUNGE. é 3 = 2 . “= —— -. ~ «a. s ' — = = BY A. CONAN DOYLE. = = = oop RARER EDDA ALAR SOARRAARSSAPORARADAD aaananannsne: IV.

Lenora, with « hbalf-hysterical laugh, turned 0 th window and went out, Mary Sulland was lefs alone. Suddenly she «an pon a chair and burst into such a passion of tears as shook her very It is not in the nature of any woman, however nobly made, however jealous of the honor of the man whom she regards,

not to feel, at such & moment, a cruel agony of mind. She was alone. The ex eitement which had sustained her was already over, and now the hard, plain fact, without diseuise, pressed itself re- morselessly upon her soul. Her hero had gone forth to almost certain death.

Her hero—Yes—he was her hero. She made of ® now, in her own heart. She loved him well. Gladly would she have given her own life for his. But, alas! what could she do?

Ali at onee a wild thought struck her. Her cheeks flamed; the old light kindled in her eyes. She started to her feet, pale, eager-eyed and trembling — trembling now with new excitement. She seemed like one possessed by a spirit stronger than her own—by an impulse overmas- tering and resistless. For a moment or two she stood motionless, her eyes gleam- ing. Then turning, not to the window, but to the door, she hurried from the room.

She went straight to her own chamber. In a few minutes she came out again.

no secret

She was now draped in a _ long, close, gray dressing-gown, which completely covered her own dress. Her tall, slight

figure, thus garmented, looked like noth- ing so much as a gray ghost—and like a ghost, in the failing light of evening, she glided out of her chamber, and passed along the paseages and down a flight of stairs.

All at once she stopped. Some noise alarmed her. And now she was afraid— afraid, not of what she was about to do, but of being seen and thwarted in the execution of her plan. Presently, all be- ing still, she again stole forward. The men were, for the most part, busy at their posts shout the fortifications, and the part of the station through which she had to pass was almost deserted. Fortune favored her, besides; no eye observed her as she stole upon her way.

At last, to her infinite relief, she reached her destination. She stood in the archway which led out into the square.

It was stiJl empty. Vane’s volunteers had gone im search of the articles re- quired for the adventure, and had not yet arrived. The oper court was before her; and there, in the middle of it, was the well.

She knew the archway well!—its image had been clear to her mind’s eye all wlong. It was a kind of tunnel, or cov- ered passage, of brickwork, some half a dozen yards in length. Near the outer end of the archway there was a but- tress, and beyond it a recess or deep niche in the masonry. The niche was close beside the buttress on the side to- ward the square.

The gray figure reached the buttress— gilded into the recess—und disappeared Vv

Five mintites passed—ten minutes. Then the sound of steps was heard, and men entered the recess; immediately afterward Vane appeared, together with another officer—the surgeon.

By this time the sun had sunk, and

but for the rising moon it would have Seen quite dark. As it was, the interior of the archway was in gloom, but the open square outside was bathed in light —a light uncertain, shadowy, spectral, yet permitting any object moving in it to be distinctly seen. The woodwork which had supported the windlass of the well had been shattered by the shot, and now stood in ruins; but the chain re- mained intact, its end twisted round a broken stump, and the bucket hung in safety inside the opening of the well.

No time was lost. Vane spoke a word or two by way of last directions to the men: then taking a bucket in his hand, so that if by any chance he escaped the shot he might do his share in bring the water, he turned toward the square. That his chance was very slight, he knew. And as he turned to go forth into the range of the cannon his face, though resolute, was grave.

He had already taken a step or two in advance when he suddenly stopped short. What was that? A soft, gray, ghostly figure started out or the wall in front of him, ana flitted forth into the open air. Befora he had recovered from his amaze- ment it had already reached the well. For the space of an instant it stood there motionless, then, as if desiring rather to

attract attention than to shun it, it Tuised both arms above its head and Waved them in the moonlight. In 4 moment—just as Vane, recovering a lit-

tle, started out of the archway—the can- non thundered; a storm of shot whistled in the air, plowed up the greund, and rattied among the ruined woodwork of the well.

Vane was stil] outsile its range, and no shot struck him. But the phantom flgure—w hat it? He looked, and thrilled. What dark thing was that which now lay motionless beside the mouth of the we!ll? He had not seen the figure fall—but it was down upon the ground!

of

VI

When the nicht was past, when the nextday shone, when the dial-finger marked the hour a little after noon, the garrison of Sunda Gunge was shaken suddenly by strange excitement. Firat, there became audible a noise of wild confusion in the encampment of the Sepoys round the walls. It grew—it Gathered volume; it swelled irto « tu- mult. Guns fired, voices yelled, a sound Was beard as of the stampede o innu- Mewihle feet When, dr,syowz exerv

uther souna, arose the loud iurraying of English voices; and this, taken up by those inside the garrison, became ina few minutes a perfect tempest of wild cheering, ringing far and near.

Suddenly—~—unexpectedly — relief had come The rebels were flying in all direc- tions; their camp was in the hands of English soldiers. The siege of Sunda Gunge was over.

It is not our purpose to dwell upon the scene that followed. From that tumult of wild joy, of almost fierce excitement,

we must turn away and follow St. George Vane. As soon as the fact of the relief was

certain, he stepped out of the crowd and made his way, alone and unperceived, aiong the deserted passages to a certain room Which lay in the rear of the walled buildings. It was the very room from which the night before a slender, gray- draped figure had stolen softly out. Just he reached the door and was hesitating at the threshold, Mrs. Jessop, who had been called out by the noise of the cheering was seen returning ina state of much excitement. Vane accosted her eagerly, but in low tones. ‘‘Is she better? Can I see her yet?’’ he saia, ‘She is much better; she is dressed and sitting up. But the noise alarmed her. She does not know the cause of it. Will you come in and tell her?’’ Vane followed her into the room. large chair, next the window, looking very white and weak, with a bandage round her temples, where the shot had grazed and stunned her, sat Mary Sul- land. As Vane entered she looked round. He paused, and for some seconds the two regarded each other. He had not seen her since, the night before, he had carried her, swooning, to her room. He had heard, with infinite relief, that the wound was not serious, and, inquiring hourly at her door throughout the night, he had learned that the swoon was passing off, and that with some hours of rest there would be little to be feared. Yet now, as he stood before her, even the great event which had just happened was less present to his mind than anxiety to satisfy himself, | with his own eyes, that she was safe. ' The shock which he had felt at the mo-

ment when he had raised her in his | arms, and caught sight of her white face ' in the moonlight, was with him still. He had felt at that instant a certainty that she was killed.

And indeed she had had a wonderful escape.

Every sportsman who has tried his gun at a sheet of blank paner Knows that it will sometime happen that, while the paper will be spotted thick with pellets, there will some times be a space lett free '

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of shot—large enough, perhaps, to have let the game escape, however true the ‘aim. It had so happened here. Amid the | storm of shot, only one had grazed her; | the rest had whistled past without harm. But where her slender figure had so narrowly escaped, a man, being of larger bulk, would inevitably have been struck down. Marv Sulland had, in fact, been slightly wounded, where Vane would i have been killed.

During the hours of night, while he had wandered up and down outside her door, too restless to seek for sleep, he had thought of all these things. He had thought of the girl who had risked her life for his; he bad let his memory go

| back into the past, and call to mind all that be had ewed to Mary Sulland

through the years that he had known her; how all his noblest aspirations, dreams, ambitions, had come from her, or had been fostered or strengthened by her sympathy, and he had wondered how it was that he aimself had never realized, till now, what she had been to him. And now, as he stooa beside her, as he looked at her again, he wondered more and more.

The look of inquiry on her face re- called him to himself.

“fam forgetting,’’ he said. ‘“‘Iam glad to be the first to bring you the good news. I see you guess it. Yes, relief has come. The siege is over.’’

She lenked at him with eagerness. ; One thought filled her mind--it forced a | passage to her lips.

‘‘Then you will not have to go again for water?’’

As the words escaped ber she flushed red. Her action of the night before had hardly been her own—so overmastering had been the impulse which had hurried her away. And now, like a wornan, she was troubled by a doubt--what would he think of her? Had she, in thrusting her-

self between him and danger, forfeited forever his esteein? How could she expect that he would understand?

He did understand, however—at least partly. He saw that she was troubled and he took the best course possiople to set ber at her ease. He meant to regard what she had done as a matter which, between themselves, required no explana-

f truth,

who had been at the the vaguest idea of The secret was their

ine men archway had only what had passed.

own.

**No,’’ he said, smiling, ‘‘I shall not have to go again. Not, what is of much greater consequence, will you Mary.’’

She answered with a smile. They un- derstood each other, He was bending over her; she was looking up at him. Mrs. Jessop was not near them, and it was almost as if they were alone. From the distance came a noise of voices cheer- ing, as if they never meant to stop, but in the room itself there was no sound but their own murmured talk.

‘“*As soon as you are well again,’’ he suid, ‘‘I shall be very angry with yo, Mary. I had a chance of getting the Vic- toria Cross, but now they will let you have it, I suppose.’’

She laughed softly, for his words were music to her. But it was not his words alone that thrilled her blood. She had won a richer prize than the Victoria Cross, and now she knew it. For in his eyes, as she looked up at them, she sa® the 2ame of love. THE

The Actomatic Clothes-line Reel.

EN?

BY RGBERT J. DURDETTE.

in Burlington that first practical

No one srho lived year, can ever forget the test that was made of the famous ‘ Do- mestic Automatic’’ clothes-line reel. It was a curious and powerful bit of me- chanism, and was the invention of 4 man who lived on Barnes street. This man used to be greviously afllicted be- cause the Scandinavian lady who super- intended the weekly wash day ceremon- ies at his hous always took great pains to leave a net work of clothes line spread all around his back yard. And when he made complaint to her about it she ad- dressed him in the musical accents of Christine Nilsson’s native language, and overwhelmed him with a torrent of elo- quence that he could not understand. And when he remonstrated with his wife and daughter about it they laughed iim to scorn, and his daughter, who was educated at Vassar, and can hustle her terrificd parent cut of the house with one hand, told him if he interfered any more in that department around the house he’d get drowned in the wash tub. So this man suffered. One bitter cold win- ter morning he ran out to the wood-shed after some kindling, and the first line caught him under the chin and pulled his neck out till it was a foot long, and he ran into the house and frightened his wife into fits by his terrible appearance, and she threatened to apply for a divorce if he ever made faces at her that way again. It was nearly three hours before his neck shrunk back to its natural size. And a few nights after that he was all dressed to go te a party with his family, and he went bounding down the back yard to see that the alley gate was fast- ened, and a slack line caught him amid- ships, let him run out the slack, and when it hauled taut, just picked him up, tossed the breath out of him, turned him clear over, and chucked him down on his back, splitting his coat from the tail-buttoms to the neck. And he could- n’t move, and he couldn’t speak. and he couldn’t even breathe, only about thirty cents on the dollar, so he vouldn’t answer his wife and daughter when they screamed to him that they were ready, and they conciuded that he hai run away to avoid going with them, se they went off without him, and never came back till eleven e’clock, ang the man lay oué in the back yard all that time, trying t die. And one time after that, he was jogging across the back yard with his arms full of about three hundred pourds of hard wood, and he was laughing like a hyena at something he had read in The Hawkeye, when a clothes prop slipped just as ke passed under the line and dropped on his head, raising a lump as big as am egg, and as he fell forward. another line caught right in his mouth and sawed it clear back to his ears, so that when he smiled the top of his hea only hung on a hinge.

Well, these things on his mind and depressed him, but they set him to thinking, and he went to work and invented a patent clothes- line reel, which was inclosed in a heavy cast-iron box, and was worked by a powerful automatic arrangement. You only had to wind up the box and set it for a certain hour, just like an alarm clock, and at that hour the reel wouid go off, and pulj on the line like a team of mules, the spring hook at the other end of the line woula let ge its hold and that line would be rolled up at the rate of a thousand miles a minute. He said noth- ing about his invention, but put up the box and told some lie about it to his family. which is a way men have, and

~

naturally weighed

ition. As for others, they knew nothing. | he set it for 7 o’clock p.m., and wound Except that she had been slightly hurt it up strong. Then he watched Miss by a stray piece of shot, no one, net Nilsson’s compatriot run out the line aren the enlazcl cr Lanora kn — and adjust the hook, and he went away. SESE SES SU NEN We Me Me Me We Se Se Sz Me Me Me, Me SS SNM Mn Beara as TAS an aS % TRUSS IF AE TEAS ES EUS OTT DUS AE DS M4 ES "Ae p a a £ a 4, s% “ar “6 A 2% aS “aN s% wz “AP WwW we s% “ar Knows what it is talking 4 We OS a+ about. “a> av, oe 1 a" t SZ GE { A Sow 6a ee NZ “> “iS Nz % a> A | “as ie < % a SZ o—: ae “a st s% cS ( ae 3 ste aT . aN sw and prove it for yourself. s% “a> = MZ

"5 CARRIER LAINE & CO.,

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a2 R.B. Norton & Co., Ltd, Char74F lottetown, Sole Agent.

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<_YOUG + Vv OFVOKR bhal CUVEDID YS, Woe ne was toasting bis feet at the fire and reading the almanac, the family were disturbed by unmistakable indications of a fight going on in the back yard be- tween a hurricane and an earthquake, in which the earthquake appeared to be

getting a little the best of it. The affrighted family rushed to the back door and looked upon a scene of devas-

tation and anarchy. The air was full of fragments of Hnen, cotton, and red flan- nel, white shirt buttons, clothes pins, and little brass buckles. were flying like hail. The reel in the iron box was mak- ing about 60,000 revolutions a minute, and was whirling around like a thrash- ing machine, and the line was tearing around the posts likeastreak of runaway lightning, and the clothes were trying

to keep along with it, and around the posts they were ripping, tearing ant snapping more than any cyclone thar ever got loose, while whee the line shot into the hawse-hole in the iro. bex, the striped stockings and white

snirts and things, and flannels, and yarn socks, and undershirts and more things, and pillow-slips, just foamed and bulged, and tossed wildly, and ripped, and tore, and scraped, until the yard and air were so full of lint that it looked worse than an arctic snow storm. Oh, it was dread- fui. It was terrible. Everybody shrieked in dismay.

‘“‘Somebody’s at the clothes screamed the man’s daughter,

**Good -heavens!’’ yelled the ‘‘hadn’t you taken the clothes in?’’

‘*No!’’ cherused the women.

‘he man thought he wouid save what was left. He sprang at the clothes line. He caught the fiying hook at the end with both hands, and the next instant, before the terrified eyes of his shrieking wife and daughter,he was jerked through the hole in the iron box, a quivering mass of boneless flesh, while nis glisten- ing skeleton fell rattling upon the porch.

They gathered his frame work off the porch, and unlocked the box and drew out his covering. He was not dead, so deftly and quickly had he been removed from his framework. ‘They sent for the doctors, but their skill could not avail to get the man together again, and now he sits, limp and boneless, in a high- backed easy chair, smiling sadly at his gtinving skeleton, which sits ina chair Sa th2 Gpposite side of tke fire-place, grinning sociably at its counterpart, and rattling horribly every time it crosses its bony legs, or scratches the top of its glistening head with its gaunt, fleshless fingers. And thus that poor man will uave to drag outa dual existence until death comes to both of him, It is a pain- ful, expensive life, fur the skeleton cate

lina!”’

man,

There is a sta that points every woman to the path way of happiness. It i¢-the "Stat of Health.” It is the duty of every mother to point out this star and indicate this pathway to her daughters. There are too many unhappy—too many un- healthy women in the world. At every gathering where women meet alone, the story is heard ef sickness and nervousness and despondency.

The woman who suffers in this way makes a mistake to consult the average obscure physician. If she dces so, the chances are that she is told that her trouble is nervous- ness or insomnia or indigestion or heart trouble. It does not happen very often that this diagnosis is currect. When by some fortunate chance she is told the truth, that she is suffering from weakness and disease of the distinctly feminine organism, she is told at the same time that she must submit to the obnexious examinations and local treatment so embarrassing to a sensitive woman. All this is unnecessary.

The wise woman will seek the advice of some specialist of world wide reputation. Dr. R. V. Pierce is such aman. Yor thirty years he hes been chief consulting physi- cian to the Invalids’ Hotel and Surgical Institute, at Buffalo, N. Y. During that time, with the assistance of a staff of emi- nent phystcians, he has treated thousands of ailing women. He is the inventor of that wonderful medicine for women known as Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription. This medicine acts directly on the delicate and important organs that make maternity pos- sitle. It cures all weakness, disease, in-

It has transformed thon- suffering wemen into It is for sale

bilitating drains. saiids of weak, healthy, happy. robust wives. by all good medicine dealers.

Never fail to cure constipation — Dr. YPicrce’s Pleasant Pellets.

Antenuptial an-’_~ *“‘Do you think they are married?’’ *‘No,they’re only engaged. She look- ed pleased when he burned her hrnd with his lighted cigar.’’—Detroit Free Press.

Woman's Reason.

YWe—lI do believe it is the truth that the more brutal a man is the more you women are attracted by him.

She—Why not? There is !sts more glory in bossing a man like that.—In- dianapolis Journal.

Irish cambric, well covered with ap- plied designs of yellow lace, is used for wide collars on thin cotton gowns and is combined with chiffon for vests and for waists with chiffon underneath.

In belts there are narrow ones. of leather in green, brown, gray, tan, black and white. The very latest novel- ty has an exact imitation of a harness buckle in gold, silver, leather covered or plain enamel.

Jaunty little capes which reach just

below tke point of the shoulder are

“made of three overlapping frills of ac-

cordion plaited black chiffon with three satin stripes on the edge sewed on

black net or taffeta. a

—

ternal ulceration and inflammation and de- |

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This rare old whisky is guaranteed TEN YEARS OLD, and is

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Ask for the “Black Label

MORNING DEW

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ELLE ERE SEES EER EE ESE FFF MSS

———

SCOTCH

GEESE RES SEES SESE EE EY

ee Nagin, - hah es setae?

-1998-=- Stocktakine Sale

B2fore stocktaking we offer th2 balance of our stoz'c of m3n’s ulsters and overcoats, at ele arance pric2s. Ifyou wiat one, you will get a snap— at the pris? you cin buy here for now.

A lot of boys and youths Ul!sters, at about half price $3 57 for $295, and so on.

B)OTS, BOITS, this way for Boots. Ifyou want your boots at lowest prices, come this way,

J. B. Macdonald&Co

Far Geaatass Burguias ia Biss aid Clot hing Tefal an eat eat eat a at nen a gy

*

ae Sone ee oe ee ° F

Regt ee gti)

200 Bicycles Wanted

To be stored (free of charge) for the wititer, and cleaned repaired, nickeled or enameled, thoroughly renewed, ready

for spring. ENAMELING

fang

, We use the highest grade Enamel (black or colors) that J ° . .

money can buy in New York, and dafe it on in a manner that the mest fastidiovs cannot cetticize, and the cost is the same

as others charge for ordinary paint, See sample at shop.

W P. DOULL, Kent Sti eet

PSS AON Ena ore nm

FRENCH P. D. CORSETS

10 GOLD MEDALS

P- D’s are the finest imported Frenen Corsets.

Their universal reputation is a proof of their qualitics,

The Trade Mark, P. D., isa guaran- ‘eed of the very best workmanship, and materials,

Ask for P, D. and see that it is stamp ed on the band, as we make no guaran- tee if not so stamped

To be obtained from al] the leading Dry Goods Stores.

., Say vy

ae RS Se PT

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bs Say ~ aM f Rt a PO FP ae _ ¢ , aS 5 rl peak Swe ara: . eae nS abel Laas tA DAT Sted Tad. F ralph teil ad De 4° ?

Three Reasons

Why vou should buy your Furniture from us.

lst,—Our variety is unsurpassed, as we goods frum specialists in each line.

buy our

2nd —We buy nothing but the best.

drd.—We sell our good ffurniture at the price of cheap.

PROVE US

JOHN NEWSON,

eiler of Good Furniture.

5

tranger to Poor Furniture,

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