G
THJE DAILY EVENING TKi.iiQJUrH--TJUrLE SHEET PHILADELPHIA, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 18C8.
MY CHRISTMAS MYSTERY.
yt-om the London nelgravia.
For years I bad spent Christmas with the
Y Arnolds, at their place down in Lincolnshire.
6nch a habit bad this become that I never
thought of Christmas ezoept in association
with the old manor-houBe which they lived la,
and the wintry aspeot of the pleasant soenery
surrounding it. The understanding was that
I should not wait for an Invitation; but in the
December of the year of which Tarn going to
upeak a year not very remote I did receive
a letter from my old friends, oouohed in such
warm, cordial terms that I could not have re
fused to accede to their wishes, whatever
ether arrangememenU I might have contem
plated. A special day was named for my going
down, and I was advised to take the train
leaving London at five in the afternoon, so
that the carriage might meet me at the station
when the train came in, and take me and my
luggage on to the manor-house. Tt this I
asrented in my letter acknowledging the
invitation, and so was not only pledged to
fpend the holidays at a particular place, bat
also to Btart on a given day, at a fixed hour.
These arrangements subsequently became
important, because, had they not been entered
into, I might not have gone to the manor,
bouse that year. I certainly should not have
started on the day Bgreed upon, for on the
morning of that day a very unpleasant cir
cumstance happed. The morning's post
brought me a letter from a stranger, of rather
a startling nature. It was in a woman's hand
writing, and signed Martha Bathgrave. The
letter commenced in fiercely-indignant and
upbraiding terms, and it charged me with
cowardioe and villainy. Then the tone
changed to one of piteous appeal and entreaty.
It is not necessary that I should set down the
exact terms of the letter hare; enough that, as
I gathered, the writer was a frantlo mother,
whose daughter had been tempted from her
home by some designing scoundrel, and who,
distracted between indignation and misery,
besought in hysterical and incoherent terms
that as far as possible the injury might be
repaired by the restoration of the misguided
Agnes (that was the name given) to her home
and friends.
The shock of such an epistle may be ima
gined. My astonishment at the receipt of it
was unbounded. That it wai intended for
xne there could be no mistake. My name
appeared in full on the envelope, with my
address Hare court, Temple and my name
was repeated at the bottom of the fourth
rage of the sheet of note paper. Yet I swear
had never heard the name of Rathgrave
before; and as to being a party to the abduc
tion of the unfortunate Agnes, the charge was
simply ludicrous.
Martha Rathgrave wrote from Chertsey.
Had the day been at my disposal I should cer
tainly have Btarted oil at once in search of
the lady, with a view of clearing up the mys
tery, iiut there was my packing, and I had
fifty little matters to Bee about before the hour
at which it was inevitable that I should catoh
my speoilied train. There was nothing for it
but to write a letter, and I sat down for the
purpose. I sat down; but under the circum
stances a letter was a diilioo.lt thing to write.
What could I say that would in any way
satisfy Mrs. Bathgrave 1 To tell her that
she was mistaken, and that I was not the
man she supposed, would obviously to her
mind be adding untruth to the catalogue of
my misdeeds, bhe had called me' a cowar J;
I hesitated at convincing her that I was a
liar.
While sitting pondering over this, I pre
sently bethought me of an expedient. I
could not go to Chertsey myself, but I oould
send a friend. Exactly; but whot I thought
and, thought, then suddenly I hit upon it.
There was Gilbert Stone. The very man;
young, smart, fond of adventure, and ever
ready to do a man a service. Moreover he
was easily to be found hia ohambers were
only in the next court. Without further re
flection I resolved to take him into my confi
dence in this strange business, and to ask him
to fathom the mystery for me.
With the open letter in my hand, I started
off for Stone's chambers. They were on he
fourth floor, and when I had mounted to the
top of the gloomy staircase I found, to my dis
appointment, that his outer door was closed.
Thinking it still possible that he might be
there, I gave a sharp rap, but there was no
response from within. The case was hopeless.
I bad decided this, and was about to turn
away, when I heard somebody begin slowly to
mount the stairs. It was a heavy, weary step,
but came on steadily, round after round. I
leant over the balustrade, and was mentally
contrasting the step with Stone's light, agile
bound, when, to my intense astonishment, on
the figure coming into sight, I recognized Stone
himself. At the same moment he oaught sight
of me, and certainly his astonishment was not
less than mine, lie started and put out a
hand against the wall to steady himself.
"Wh-what do you want?" he gasped in an
angry tone.
"You're not well?" I rejoined, giving him
question for question.
' NonaenBe ? Never better in my life. What
is it?"
I said it would be necessary to go into some
little explanation, and he then crawled up the
few remaining etepB, and putting his back
against the stair-window, folded his arms, and
intimated that he was ready to hear what 1
had to Bay. lie seemed to have no intention
of asking me into his chambers, and though I
thought this odd, I would not appear to take
any notioe of it.
There is seldom too much light in the
Temple in December, and this morninz was
specially gloomy. So, in the position Gilbert
btone had taken up, his face was wholly dark
to me I could not see a line of it. In a few
words I explained what had happened, and
proposed to read the letter. lie nodded, and
1 went through it from end to end. He appa
rently listened intently; but when I had done,
and had folded up the paper, he still retained
his listening attitude; and it was only when
1 said. "Now, I want you to Bee into this for
me, old boy," that he started up and replied,
"With pleasure; give me the letter." I gave
it into his hand.
"And you know nothing whatever of these
people?" he asked.
"Absolutely nothing.
He laughed.
"All riuht. You are the cenuine victim of
a mystery. Enviable being! Well, enjoy
yvuieeu, viu uui uuiiaiuer ail mis an guua
as squared. You'll hear from me. A merry
fcnristmas to you i
1 reciprocated the wish; we shook haniia,
and I hurried away to prepare for my iournev
with a sense of relief. In few hoars, I felt
certain, the unpleasant little mistake would
be cleared up. Still, I felt anxious for Stone's
letter, And that reminded Bie J had. not
told him where I was gobg. Well, no matter,
I couldn't toil np those stairs again; ha mu t
address me at my chambers, and his commu
nication would be forwarded to Lincolnshire
in due course.
And now I reaoh a portion of my narrative
where it is necessary for me to observe the
utmost evotness of detail, in order to gaia
credence for what I shall bay to state. My
packing was finished at 4-30; a cab then con
veyed me and my portmanteau and hat-box
to the Great Northern Terminus. The train
starting at five was, as I knew, express to
Peterborough, net stopping on the
way; it ultimately reached Linooln, the
station nearest my destination, at nine that
sight.
There were not many passengers fey that
train. I noticed this myself, and it was con
firmed by the guard, with whom I got into
conversation and who was kind enough to
offer me a compartment to myself, in case I
preferred it. I did prefer it, as I had some
papers I wished to look over going down, and
the guard showed me into a first-class oar-
riage (No. 287), and locked the door to secure
me against intrusion. As soon as we were
fairly out of the terminus I took the bundle of
papers 1 have mentioned from my pocket, de
termined to xnke the utmost of the rapidly
fading light; for though the carriage lamps
were lit, they were not pleasant to read by.
The oscillation of the carriage, as the train
ounded along at express speed, was irritating;
nt in spite of it I soon managed to get ab
sorbed in my work. For Bome twenty or thirty
miles I read on and on, making myself master
of the details of a somewhat intricate oase
which bad been submitted to my judgment.
Then a very natnral thing happened. My
mind reverted to the event of the morning, I
suppose, and suddenly the name of Agnes
Rathgrave began to intrude itself into my
reading. The words mixed themselves up in
an odd fashion with the writing before my
eyes gleamed aud flashed there with such
vividness that 1 began to lose myself in idle
speculations about this unknown girl. Was
she pretty, interesting in manner, loving in
disposition ? These and similar questions
were bewildering me, when I was suddenly
startled by a sound as of a deep groan close to
my ear.
Though 1 believed myself alone in the car
riage, I looked up sharply. Daylight was
wauiiig; but the lamps had in oonsequence
brightened, and I had no difficulty in seeing
about me with the utmost clearness.
Imagine my astonishment, then, when, on
raisitig my eyes, I discovered that I was not
the sole occupant of the compartment I
Unquestionably, it was shared by a com
panion. The Beat next but one to my own was
occupied by a lady, who sat gazing intently
out of the farther window. There could be no
doubt about her being there, yet I felt certain
that she had not entered the cariage at King's
cross, and it wa3 quite impossible that she
could have entered it since, while we were
tearing along at express speed. My flesh orept,
and I felt a lifting of my hair as I looked at
her; yet I did look at her very intently, so
intently that I can recall every minute par
ticular of her appearance and attire.
She was, so tar as I can judge, not mora
than twenty years of age, petite in figure, with
Email, delicately-shaped hands and feet. As
she wore a blaok veil shiny with bugles down
to her mouth, the upper part of her faoe was
hidden, but the lower portion was most deli
cately turned. Mouth and chin were beauti
ful; so was a little shell-like ear, of which I
caught Bight. But what struck me most for
cibly was the snowy whiteness of the com
plexion; there was no flush in it; even the lips
were bloodless. The lady's dress was plain to
simplicity. She wore a black-and-white check
silk, the skirt quite plain, and a short velvet
mantle. Her bonnet was also of velvet, with
a cluster of pansies in it over the left temple.
I saw no jewelry. My attention was specially
drawn to uy companion's hands, from their
npusoal smnllness and the exaotness with
which her gloves titled. .Moreover, she had a
peculiarity ot the loft hand; she kept it tightly1
clinched, and I presently saw that her object
in doing so was to retain fast hold of a crum
pled fragment of paper; but the apparent tena
city of grip might, I decided, be unconscious,
as she was clearly ntiuoh self-absorbed.
Can I say that as I gazed at my companion I
experienced a sense of terror ? No; it .hardly
amounted to that, especially after the first
shock of discovering that she was there. How
she had oome there certainly puzzled me.
It was most singular that after what had
passed the guard should have admitted her.
It was more singular still, that he should have
been able to do so without my knowledge. On
the other hand, there she was, Bitting bodily
before my eyes, as real and tangible as the
carnage itsell.
.beginning to smile at my own alarm, x pre
sently mustered up courage enough to address
the lady. Bending forward, I inquired whether
she wanted the window down ?
The noise of the train was eo great that I
could hardly hear my own voice; but she
heard it, and turning towards me, smiled gra
ciously. Her lips also moved, and as Bhe
placed her right hand on the window-strap at
the same moment, I understood her to answer
me in the affirmative. SO I bowed, leant baok
in my Beat, and tried to resume my reading.
In this 1 was only partially successful. My
eyes were constantly wandering towards my
companion, who was again watching the fading
landscape through her veil, while I speculated
on the mystery of her being there.
"I will speak to the guard at Peterborough,"
I mentally determined.
As I did so our rpeed began to slacken, anl,
looking out, I saw that we were close upon
the old town. The express stage of our jour
ney was near its end. The beautiful facade of
the cathedral was already in view. Within a
few minutes we were entering the station.
The platform was on my Bide the carriage (the
reverse had been the cane in starting at King's
oroao); and as the place was shouted out,
mingled with the cry of "tiokets 1" I noticed
that my companion turned her face my way.
"You get out here ?" X inquired.
She inclined her head.
I put my hand out to open the door for her.
It was locked. At the same moment the col
lector oame up and nuked to see my ticket.
"This lady will get out here, if you will un
lock the door," I bald.
"Lady, sir ? what lady ?
I turned sharply to where my companion
had been seated. She was gone I
"There was a lady seated in this carriage a
moment ago," I stammered out.
"Impossible, sir."
We were interrupted by the appearance of
the guard.
"What's the matter, sir ?" he asked.
"Tell me," I demanled, eagerly, "did you
or did you not admit a lady into this com
partment before the train Btarted from Lon
don f"
"Sir 1" be ejaculated; and then peering in
my faoe and seeing the look of consternation
there, be added, in a conciliatory tone:
"Been dreaming, sir; there can't have been no
lady here long o' yon, sir. Both the doors
was looked."
I Btarted to the other door and tried it
fastened t A oold shudder crept over me as I
looked at the amused faces of the two men;
my own must nave bsen ghost-like.
Fortunately, there was no time to discuss
the matter. Time was up, and the train
moved on. As the station receded from view,
and a sense of being alone again came over
me,' I nearly swooned with terror. There
could be no blinking the truth to myself now
1 had teen a ghost I It bad appeared to me
in that plaoe; and, for all I knew, it might
return. My eyes glared at the seat it had
ocoupied. I dared not turn from it; I yet felt
assured that, should the phantom present
itself again I should throw myself from the
carriage ia the very madness of terror. My
only consolation was that the train stopped at
the next station (Bolton), only a few miles
distant, and there it would be practicable for
me to get into another compartment one ia
which there were booked and duly accredited
human passengers.
The distance between Peterborough and
Bolton was interminable, in my agony aud
alarm; but it was traversed without any
fresh ghostly experience, and the instant the
train stopped I leaped out. The relief of
escaping was so intense that I oould hardly
stay to collect together my papers, rugs, aud
other trifles. A porter protlered assistance,
and I gladly availed myself of it, though I
had to put up with his astonished looks when
he found I was only moving from one carriage
to another, apparently without an object. I
seleoted a compartment this time with plenty
of life in it two burly farmers and one apple
faced old lady gave promise of security from
further horror, and I was congratulating my
self on the success of my move, when, just as
the train began to move, the porter I had
engaged came to the window aud touched his
cap.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but does this
belong to your papers ? l'Vund it on the sjat
of the other carriage."
He held out as he spoke a crumpled frag
ment of manuscript. I recognized ic the mo
ment I took it. There could be no mistake as
to its being the fragment of paper my myste
rious fellow-traveller had clutched so tightly
in her hand I
The train had Btarted, and it was impossible
to give back the paper. It was not mine; I
had no right to it; yet, so peculiar was the
chance that had given it in my possession, and
bo strangely was it connected with the most
singular experience of my life, that I felt
bound to preserve it. As the eyes of my com
panions were all upon me, in that undisguised
stare common to country folk, I simply placed
the fragment in my pocket-book, determined
to examine it on reaching my journey's end.
My reception at the mauor-house was so
cordial, and it was so absolutely necessary to
render oureelf agreeable among a household
of guests, that my adventure almost passed
out of my head, until I found myself in the
dead of the night alone in the sleeping-chamber
which had been assigned to me. It was a
great, old-fashioned, wainscoted room, with a
huge chimney, in which the wind roared, aud
a bay window, opening among trees, that,
now bare and gaunt, swayed their skeleton
arms np and down before it with an iuoessant
creaking in every joint. All the alarm I had
felt in the railway carriage instantly came
back to me with redoubled intensity. I found
my eyes wandering from chair to chair, confi
dent that I should presently see my ghostly
oompanion seated in one of them. And in
stead of trying to banish this impression from
my mind by reflecting on other things, I found
the one subject drawing me to it with irresist
ible fascination. I could not even resist at
that dismal hour the temptation to examine
the paper in my pocket-book.
The sight of this, as I drew it out, gave me
a turn; yet it was a very simple matter. A
mere crumpled scrap of writing. I sat some
time with it lying open in the palm of my
band, looking at it dreamily. Then an idea,
suggested by the shape of the paper and the
wrinkles in it, suddenly seized in.
"This is part of a letter," I said aloud, "a
part held in a hand with a desperate clutch
while the rest has been wrenched away. She
mustjiave held this in a death-grasp."
A gust of wind howled round the chamber,
and moaned itself piteously away. The cold
dew of terror came out in beads upon my
brow.
It was some time before I could summon
courage to undertake a ruiuute examination of
the writing before me. When I did it yielded
little; there were only a few lines on one Bide
of the paper, and they were broken and frag
mentary. This was all I read: "make you
my wife, and I shall not forget fool
ish impatience ruin all your family
exposure to be re
gretted." There was nothing more; a'l that
might have rendered this an Intelligible sen
tence had been torn away; as it was, the frag
ment was worthless. It told nothing, and
how could it in any way throw a light on the
mystery of the apparition which troubled me
more and more as I reflected on it ? Indeed, I
felt that I dared not think over it too intensely;
and thongh the ghostliness cf the chamber
(exaggerated by my imagination, no doubt)
weighed heavily upon me, I boldly extin
guished the light and threw myself on the bed,
where, after a time, fatigue resulted in broken
slumbers.
All next day I debated with myself whether
I should take my host into my confidence in
the matter of my railway mystery; but though
Qarnold is a capital fellow, he is one of those
Btnrdy, hard-headed, unsentimental yeomen
with no possible belief in the supernatural,
and I decided that he would only receive my
statement with incredulity or open laughter;
so I kept my counsel for that day. Next morn
ing my letters were brought up to my room.
All that had oome to me at the Temple had
been put into an envelope which I had left
directed with my clerk, so that he might forward
them to the manor-house. The letters chiefly
related to matters of business; but the last I
opened had more special personal interest. It
was the letter 1 had leceived from Gilbert
Stone, and related to the commission he ba t
undertaken.
Stone's communication was short-a
mere note but to the purpose. He had
called the lady, Mrs. Rathgrave;
bad found her greatly concerned at her
daughter's elopement with some person un
known, but who appeared to have corres
ponded with the girl in my name, borrowed
in all probability from the "Loudon Direc
tory," to which authority the mother had
gone for my address. Stone added that he
had effectually cleared up the mistake bo far
as I was concerned. He wrote ia haste, as
lie was goiDg oil with a friend to Bpeud his
Christmas in the country.
"Thank goodness!" I ejaoulated, "thare U
one mystery cleared up. Now, if I could
only satisfy myself about my fellow-traveller
,r
T stopped abruptly. Surprise took away
my breath; while speakiug I had held
Stone's letter in my baud, regarding it with
a fixed and thorough gaze. Nw, with a
quick, lightning suddenness a discovery
flashed upon me.
The writing on the fragment of paper which
the woman had held in her grasp was identi
cal with that of the letter before me I
No wonder I was mute with nttur astonish
mtnt. Of oonrse, the first impression yielded
to doubt; but a close and minute comparison
of letter for letter decided me. Tue words I
had read overnight were in Gilbert Stone's
handwriting. What, then, did it all mean f
What had happened.
I went down te breakfast, revolving those
questions ia my mind, and greatly perturbed.
Yarnold met me in the corridor; he had
been reading bis letters; there was a sheaf of
them in Lis hand. His faoe was radiant. -!
"More guests, my boy I" he exclaimed,
shaking the letters at me as we met. "By
Jove I we shall have to get the manor-house
enlarged by next Christmas."
i "Indeed I"
"Yes; and as it is we shall have to quarter
one of the new-comers on you a friend of Sir
Harry Finch's. You may know him, by the
way; he is at the bar."
"Does Sir Harry mention his name ?"
"Oh, certainly let me see, yes; here it Is
Gilbert Stone.".
I was oonsolous of starting and changing
color. Yarnold looked surprised, as he well
might, for he oould little guess the strange
thoughts and misgivings whioh were already
shaping .themselves iu my mind about the
man whose name he had mentioned as about
to come there as his guest. However, I sub
mitted to his surprised looks, rather than
make any statement as to those doubts and
uisgiviogB. They were, indeed, so vague
that I could hardly have put them Into words.
I contented myself with remarking that I
believed I knew Sir Harry's friend, and Yar
nold himself, to my relief, soon changed the
subject.
Three nights after, Gilbert Stone cam down.
His surprise at seeing me was naturally very
great. I had not mentioned to him in town
where I was going to spend my Christmas, and
it certainly seemed a strange coincidence that
bis friend Sir Harry Finch should have
brought him down to the same place. It was,
though be did not suRpect it, more thau coin
cidence; it was destiny. He did not mention
his letter transmitted to me that morning, and
of course I said nothing about the discovery I
had made, identifying the writing with that of
the fragment left by my speotral companion
in the railway train. In truth, little passed
between us, for I fancied that, great as was
his surprise at seeing me, his uneasiness was
greater. Nor, I could tell, was this lessened
on his bearing that it was my room he was to
share. Be ailected to be charmed, but I saw
that his lower lip dropped and quivered. I
had already come to regard him with grave
suspicion, and I determined to observe him
losely.
There was danoing that night, and Stone
threw himself into the amusement with en
thusiasm I thought with recklessness, if not
desperation. Suddenly, when the gayety of
the scene was at its height, I saw him give a
hurried glance round the hall and steal away.
I followed him, but at a distance. He asc ended
the Etairs, and traversed the corridor leading
to onr room. His step was noiseless, and I
pursued him like his shadow.
The room was full of moonlight. As he went
in he thrust to the door, but did not olose it.
I stole up and looked in. He was stooping over
a portmanteau, from whiuh he took out a small
writing-desk; a key attached to his watoa-ohain
enabled bim to open this. What could be bis
object ? The moonlight was strong enough to
show me that he took from the desk a handful
of open letters. But a man does not leave the
dance to read letters by moonlight. No, nor
by lamplight; though while the thought was
in my miud he struck a match and lit the taper
by his side. Then he held out one of the let
ters towards the hardly-kindled llame, so that
the corner of the paper almost ignited. His
object, then, was not to read, but to destroy
to destroy something before I was there to
observe his movements.
In the instant of my detecting that inten
tion I was in the room, my right hand had
firm hold of bis wrist, and we were glaring at
each other, eye to eye.
"Stay, Gilbert Stone 1" I cried. "Yon de
stroy nothing."
"Who will prevent 'me?" he demanded
fiercely.
"I will!"
"And by whose authority ?"
"That of the dead !"
His look changed, and he staggered from
me. Then, with the courage of desperation,
he summoned np all his strength and made a
rush, seizing me by the throat. Our struggle
was short and sharp; I threw him, and he lay
at my feet glaring.
In the contest the letters had fallen and lay
scattered about us. Among them was the one
he would have destroyed in the flame. I recog
nized that at a glance, for it was much
crumpled, and a half-circular pieoe had been
torn ont of the bottom of it. Hardly a seoond
glance was necessary to convince me that I had
ia my pocket-book the missing pieoe, whioh
would render it complete.
As Stone gazed at me with vicious eyes, I
tore out my pocket-book, produced the frag
ment and fitted it into the letter, which it
matched with exaotness.
"How dare you oome here to pry into my
letters ?" the man demanded, with an attempt
at swagger.
"I have given you my authority," I replied;
"It 1b that of the unhappy woman to whom
you wrote these words: 'You know that I
have promised to make you my wife, and 1 shall
not forget that promise when the proper time
comes, unless you by your foolish impatience
ruin all, bring disgrace upon your family, and
lend yourself to an erntsurt that will assuredly
have to be regretted, lie reasonable, and con
fide wholly in your devoted adorer.' "
It will be seen that I pieced out the sense of
the fragment (in italics) by means of the let
ter itself.
The horror of Gilbert Stone as I did so was
intense, aud was only exceeded when in a
few steiu words I told bim how it had come
into my possession. At that narrative all his
manliness left hiro; he fell at my feet and ab
jectly implored my pity my compassion. I
reminded him that as yet I only suspected
him of some offense dark enough to arouse
the spirits of another world to rise up to
avenge it.
"Yes," he exolalmed with a shudder, "it
was she it was Agnes."
"What I AgueB Rathgrave I" I cried in
aniBzement.
"The same. It was to her that this letter
was addres ed."
1 was bewildered, confounded, and I said
so.
"You shall know all," he said, "but my
lips burn my throat id parched; 1 muot have
water water."
,11 e scrambled to his feet, and, going to the
cureon, poured out a draught into a glass
aid gulped it down eagerly.
Then he entered on a deliberate confession,
which revealed all. He admitted that it was
he who bad made advanoes to Agnes Rath
grave, but in my name, simply used as the
firbt that ocourred to him with which to screen
his own. In that name he bad promised her
marriage; and two nights before Bhe had oome
to hia chambers in mad desperation, bringing
with her his letter, and threatening exposure
unless he kept bis promise. Her words were
exasperating, his temper short, and he rushed
on her and tried to tear the letter from her
band. Part he secured; but in the struggle
Bhe Btumbled and fell backwards, bearing with
her the Email portion by which she held. That
fall was fatal. To his horror the woman lay
dead at bis feet. . "I see her now," he orled,
putting his hands before his eyes, "lying there
stiff in her silk dress, and with the short veil
half hiding her dead faoe." lie added that be
sat gazing at the body half the night; then be
thought him that there were empty chambers
ia the same court to which his key would
gain him admission. To those chambers he
bad carried the body through the darkness,
and there it remained,
! This statement fully accounted for the state
of trepidation in which he met me on his
stairs in the morning, and the readiness with
which be undertook to clear np the Rathgrave
mystery, abo? whioh be knew too much
already. His subsequent letter to me was, of
course, a lie. He had not seen Mrs. Rathgrave,
having only too strong reasons for keeping
ont of her way.
"But I had managed It all so cleverly," he
added, "that I might have got oil unsuspected
if the poor dead wretch bad only been laid at
rest in a Christian grave. But she has ap
peared to you; ihe may appear to others, and
it is useless to fight the dead."
He started up and pressed both hands tightly
over his heart.
The oolor had gone from his face while he
spoke, and I now saw that it was distorted
and convulsed.
"You are Ml" I exclaimed. "Let me
ring "
"Too late, my boy, too late," he said
faintly. "It is ten minutes since I drank the
water "
"Well ?"
"It was poisoned."
He dropped forward on his face, and before
assistance could come to him had breathed bis
last spasmodic breath, and was dead.
And thus the spirit of the murdered victim
of his heartless cruelty and treachery was
mysteriously avenged.
JEWELRY, SILVERWARE, ETC.
ESTABLISHED 1823-
C. W. RUSSELL,
No, 22 North SIXTH Street,
OFFERS FOR THE HOLIDAYS,
GOLD AND SILVER WATCHES,
From the best manufacturers.
FINE JEWELRY,
Of all descriptions, and latest stylos.
FRENCH MARBLE CLOCKS,
Direct from Paris.
SILVER WARE OF THE GORHAM MANU
FACTURING COMPANY,
at Dzsawrp
THE LOWEST TOSSIELE PRICES.
E. STELLWAGSN & CO.
AT THE OLD STAND,
Xo. CS2 MASKET STREET.
WATCHES, JEWELRY, LADIES' AND
GENTS' CHAINS, ETC.,
selling at greatly reduced prices, aud all goods
warranted.
A call Is solicited before making your Christ
mas purchases, to convince you of lulu fuot.
No trouble to snow goods t you do not wish
to buy at present.
E. BTELLWAOEN,
121512trp GEO. W. GRANT.
GREAT INDUCEMENTS
To Purchasers of Holiday Presents
MEAD & BOBBINS,
Successors to John 0. Mead & Son,
K. E. Corner MTU aud C1IESNUT Sts.,
Manufacturers of the Finest Grades of
SILVER PLATED WARE,
Respectfully Inform their customers and the
public that they are now prepared to offer EX
TRAORDINARY INDUCEMENTS during the
HOLIDAY SEASON, and confidently invite an
lnhpectlon of one of the largest stoofcs of Silver
riated Ware to be found in this city. Hard
Metal Sets reduced from 1115 to 875 aud 150 per
set. An examination of our stock will insure
sales.
CUTLERY,
PEARL, IVORY, and RUBBER CUTLERY
in great variety, 1'laled and Unplated, iu quan
tities as required. 11 19 thsluSw
QEORC E H. BECHTEL,
o. 71C AKl'll STREET,
Silver anj Silver - Plated Ware
SELLLMJ AT WHOLESALE TRICES.
STORE OTEN EVENINUS UNTIL 25th
INST. 1217 6trp
ftu D. WARDEN,
S. E. Corner FIFTH and CIIESXUT Sts.,
PBEVIOUS TO REMOVAL TO
so, 1030 ciiENNirr HTuccr,
OFFERS FOR THE HOLIDAYS
A LABQE AND VARIED ASSORTMENT OF
Held aud Silver Watches,
Flue Jewelry,
Sterling Silver Ware,
riated Ware, Etc. Etc.,
SUITABLE FOR BOLl DAY GIFTS,
at TBi - fiiSlmrp
lowest rossiHi.r. ruiim
i 1 1 -
g?. P. ADAIR
(Late ol the firm of Bmylu & Adair, Ho. lia Chea
iiol ilreel),
UAHUFACTUBKK OF
SILVER PLATED WARE,
No. 121 8. XX12VI2XT1I St.,
121713trp. PHILADELPHIA.
HOLIDAY PRESENTS.
JACOB HA It LEY
JKHELLEB, .
U 1 lmrp q, 628 MAKUEX Street,
JEWELRY, SILVERWARE, ETC. 1
C
UBISTMAS AND NEW YUAR PRB3ENI&J
LEU IS LAIMMUS A CO., J
JEWELLERS,
No. 803 CHESNUT Street
Being determined to reduce tbtlr Large Block of
DIAMONDS,
WATCHES,
JEWELRY, and
SILVERWARE,
Offer their Elegant Assortment, consisting of
FINE GOLD AND SILVER WATCIIE5,
FOR LADIES', GKNT8 AND BOYS' USE. '
FINE LEONTINES AND VEST CHAINS. !
Jewelry of the latest Style and Design.
BUTTONS,
STUDS,
SEAL BING3, ETC.,
AT EXTREMECT LOfT PRICES.
BOLID SILVERWARE IN OBKAT VARIETY,
Inc'udlng a beautiful assortment suitable lor
BRIDAL 11 Frit.
Oar Stock le large and varied, etubracinc all tne
J.attst Novelties In tho Jewelry line, anl pnrchaicra
will find It to their advantage to ca'l before pur
chasing elsewhere, as our prices ARE UREATLY
REDUCED, 121S6:rp
PREPARE FOR CHRISTMAS,
Persons selecting their Presents in gold sea
son have the advantage of a largerfeasortment
and belttrattenllon.
FARR & BROTHER,
No. 324 CHEGftUT St.,
BELOW FOUKTH,
Invite attention to a handsome assortment of
FINE WATCHES,
CLOCKS, JEWELRY,
MUSICAL L0XE3,
AKD
SUITABLE FOR CHRISTMAS and "WKDDIN0-'
GIFTS.
PRIC ES MODERATE.
12 21 St
m
ill
E A I L E Y
k
COMPAN Y,
DIAMOND
DEALERS.
QOODS FOR THE HOLIDAYS.
1TK1GUL?(S& CO.,
S. E. Corner TEN Til audCHESSUT Sts.t
bave Just opened a collection of HEW and RICH
UOOLb, selected opecUlly lor
CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.
DIAMONDS, beautiful designs.
Oold Watches, Ladies' and Uvula' Chain.
A zuaguilicenl atock cf Jewelry lu iJytanilne Mo-
SBIO.
Kew designs In Gold Jewelry, Band Bracelets.
I ockets the largeat variety ever offered.
Presentation Caues; Oold.headed Cauea BPE
C1ALTY. Bridal and other style Silver Ware, French Mantel
Cocks, tine Plated Ware, Opera Ulasses. etc etc.
A tare chancn is olleied to purchasers, and a call
will convlJ.ce the most skeptical. 12 IS 7Up
WKIGULXS & CO.
C. & A. PEQUIONOT,
MtKUFACICBEIlS OP
WATCH CASES,
And Dealers Iu American aud Imported
WATCHES,
Xo. 13 South SIXTH" Street,
121 tfrp Manufactory, Ko. 22 & FJJTTHSt.
p S i 8 E N T 8
OF
WATCHES. JEWELRY
AND
S1XVE1WAIJE.
I HON It Y IHIlPElt,
12 12 lit
Ko. 520 AIICII Afreet.
ESTABLISHED 1 820.
noiinii riiEsrifTS.
WATCIIEP. JKWKLKV,
CLOCKS, SILVER WABK. and
FANCY GOODS.
W. RUSSELL,
NO. 22 KOKTU SIXTH 8TKEET,
lit,, V I'UILADJtU-UlA.