BMBBWBBBBBBBBBBWBWMBHiiii t. ' ' 10 ' THB'jA i . pjivcn biro, nightmare. He awoke with a jrroan, sat up, and saw Catherine and the bors still sitting as he had left them at the supper tabic, although they had long since finished. Michael was building up a pyra mid of knives and glasses, Catherine watched the structure as it rose, nud David looked at Catherine. Presently she put out a mischievous hand to interfere, but Michael, still building with his right, caught her wrist in bis left hand and held it fast. "With an impatient jerk of the table. David brought the edifice crashing dowu in ruins. "Ifvou break the classes," said Eames, "you'll get no hot toddy. Cathey, it's time you was abed; get out "the whisky and mix the boys a glass apiece, and your old lather will have one, too." Catherine letched the bottle, the lemons, and the old-fashioned silver sugar crushers. 3Iicbacl pared the peel into strips so ,hin "you might read through them," and David lilted the kettle, too heavy Mr the girl's slender arms. The Jragrantodor of punch spread about the room, and the young men clinked glasses -with Eames and drank to their next meeting. "You've cot a rough walk before you, bov" said he; "I shouldn't care to be in vour place. But to be sure, you're younc, your united ages don't come up to mine, I'll be bound. Let me see you are 23, Michael, and David is "5. Twenty and 20 is 40, and 5 and 3 u 8. Acid another 5 to 48 aud there you have me. "Well, 20 years goes by like a Sash, as one day you'll discover lor your selves." He pressed the young men to take another little half-glass. ""A warm inside keaps the cold without," said he, dealing iorthl the spirit generously, Thev were glad to delay the moment of departure, and Catherine coquetted to the last. She handed David his comforter and laughed at the fashion in which Michael wore his. "You have tied it very badly, all the ends are hanging out. Let me arrange it for vou 1" Standing on tip-toes her head just reached Michael's chin. She was unnecessarily long in her arrangements, and when she had finished she turned her charming little face upward, with something so provocative in her baby eves, that no young mortal Irish man, especially after Eames' hospitality,, could resist doing as Michael did, and sud denly kissing her. David turned white. "Early times for kissing!" grnmbled Eames. "No! late times!" said Catherine, "I am saving good night." With woman' I wit he held ber blushing cheek op to her father and David in turn, as if it were out ordinary friendliness. David was red enough now. as be awk wardly took the kiss she proffered him. Michael made a grimace. "You know how to cheapen your favors," he told Catherine, who blushed still more Tividly, but answered oertlv, "It will be a long time before you obtain another favor, anyhow!" The whole party went out into the little porch and David opened the outer door. The wind drove him back an instant as it rushed triumphantly past bim, lifting the carpet from the boards, blowing the curtains into strange suggestive shapes, finally losing itself in the great roaring cavern of a chimney. Outside, up in the domed heavens, a gib bons moon, now visible, now bidden, climbed swiftly through the drifting clouds. The scene was alternately washed in cold white light or plunged in blackness, and the sud denness and completeness of these changes was tuli ot an eerie desolation. "Goodnight!" said Eames to the young men. "Goodnight!" they cried, setting ofE "Goodnight. Davy!" said Catherine, in ber most caressing tone, and making use lor the first time that evening of the famil iar diminutive. "Goodnight, Michael." Both turned back and wared their caps with a fiual "goodnight." All lour saw each other lorthe last time in the wan moon licht, tnen Eames pulled his daughter with in doors, and the two friends trudged on to gether. They went without speaking a mile along their road. The last house of the village was lelt behind as, striking across the meadows, tne reached the cliff, along the ragged outline of which their route lay. The moon began to disentangle herself from the vaprous meshes that held her; she reached a breaalh of dark transparent 6ky, and for a time shone out unimpeded and strong. Every leaf and blade of grass becime suddenly distinguishable upon the cliff-top; every bright ripple crest and dark hollow might be counted on the sheet .of silver sea that crawled below. David, since he parted from Catherine, had not opened his lips. The look he stilt believed he had surprised between ber and Michael rankled within him. His blood was on fire with the kiss she had let him take; perhaps, too, Eames' whisky counted for something. He said to himself over and over again. Catherine should be his, and the annoying conviction pressed close upou mm, that but for Michael there was no one iu the world to dispute his claim. Michael, who had not spoken either, was yet never silent. Uow he whistled, now he hummed under his breath, now he sang a few bars out loud. All at once be laughed outright. David felt a passionate resentment, "What a fool you are!" he exclaimed savagelv, "everything to you is a matter of jest. Yet the very next time we walk along here together, Catherine will have made her choice, and one of us ill be the happiest fellow in the world, one the most miser able." t "Perhaps I am cultivating a laughing philosophy," replied Michael, "in order to enable me to sustain my fate, and yet" "Yet what," repeated David. "Well, of course we each hope to have the luck," said Michael, apologetically, "and I cannot help being gay-hearted while such a hope is mine." The mere possibility that bis rival should succeed and he fail cut David like a knife, but he marshaled up all the facts that told in his favor and found relief. "Even supposing," said he, "Catherine cared for you, what then? How could you support her as a wife? You have only just enough to live yourself. Do you mean to ask her to wait for you? Eames would not consent He is a shrewd man. He under stands business. I talked with him to-day for a long time. I let him know my posi tion and my prospects. He was pleased. I am almost sure I can count upon his influ ence. In fact he hinted as much. He said lie wanted a son-in-law competent to put Catherine's own little bit of money to good use. Michael laughed again. "You are a canny Scot, Davy," said he, "and where money is con cerned you are bound to win! But while you were getting round old Eames I for once was better employed. I was in the kitchen assisting Catherine to make the pies. I sat on a corner of the table and handed her the pepper, salt and herbs as she wanted them. Do you know she is different when you are alone with her? She is gen tler, and does not make fun of what you say." There was a rapturous expression on Michael's face that told his companion, plaiu as words could; he was living over again hishour with Catherine in the kitchen. "Have vou ever noticed her ear?" he went on; "I did not know an ear could be such a beautiful thine. It is so small and so per fect! I wonder how any man could have been suclr a brute as to bore that little bote through it! She says it did not hurt her much, but imagine hurting her at alii" Every word wrenched the knile round in David's heart; every moment his face grew more fixed and bloodless. Unconscious or careless of the effect he was producing, Michael proceeded: "There is a wonderlul down over her cheek, though you only see it when she turns against the light. It is like the bloom on fruit, you would almost fear to brush it away with a breath. It must feel like velvet to the tinner. Then her hands. How horny Eames' arc, and ours, too. Look at that!" Michael held out a large palm roughened and engrained bv neather and work. ''But Catherine's is quite soft and pink, and is crossed inside by hundreds of funny little lines, like a crumpled poppy leaf be lore it is shaken out of the busk. And it is so small! She measured it against mine, and it lay here in the centor like a child's. The tip of her fingers don't reach to this;" and he drew an imaginary line across his first finger joints. David stood still, for his limbs were sud denly powerless, every drop of blood, all energy had gone to feed the iury welling up in his heart. "What right have you to know such things?" he demanded huskily; "what right have you to touch ber? You" desecrate her by your speech, by your thoughts. I have never so much as squeezed her hand, and you did I not see you to-night put her to shame by kissing her before us all?" "You should be the last to complain of that, remembering what it earned you!" said Michael; "but what I do before her father I dare not do behind his back. When alone with Catherine I am more timid, and go no further than she leads." "I swear she never leads you!" cried David violently; "you insult her by every word you utter." Michael did not seem to hear, he was im mersed in pleasurable recollections. "To-day her hair tell down all about her shoulders and below her waist. She had run into the garden to catch her kitten that nad escaped, and the wind loosened it and blew it about like a yellow cloud. I wanted to take it in my hands, but I was afraid. I suppose she saw my longing iu my face, for she got her scissors from her workbox and cut off for me a long thick piece. I have it here!" and Michael thrust his hand into bis breast. David recalled the similar movement when Catherine had said to him, "Have you nothing else to meditate upon?" and he un derstood at last the look which they had ex changed. Michael had played him false. Three months ago they had agreed to court Catherine openly and in each other's presence, and to loyally accept her choice; but now Michael had tampered with her affection in an underhand manner, and had cot her to concede to him unwarrantable favors. Lore, rage and jealousv sent David, usually the most sensible of young men, clean off his bead. He sprang upon Michael with a vague idea of tearing open his coat and proving him a liar, or else of wresting from him the lock of hair of which he made his boast. Michael, astonished at the at tack, then angry, too, struck back, and his blow falling upon bis assailant's mouth laid the lip open, while bis own kuuckles streamed with blood. This was enough to change both men to wild beasti. They fought with fury, neither remembering nor caring for the cause. Locked in each other's arms, they swayed this way and that, and, oblivious of the danger, came every moment nearer to the cliff's edge. Both were strong and evenly matched in weight and height. David had a temporary ad vantage, having got Michael below him, but at the same moment he grew cognizant of their peril, and the shock at once sobered him. It was perhaps even then too late, they were already on the brink. The hor ror'legible in bis eyes caused Michael to glance round in bis turn; down, dowu fell the precipice, almost perpendicularly to the shore. His grip upon David's arms, born of ferocity, tightened in despair. "Back, David, for Goa'a! for Cather ine's! " he whispered hoarsely. But Davia felt with agonv of mind the ground sliding away beneath him. Was there nothing on all this great round slippery earth by which to calch hold? His foot encountered an ob stacle; with all his strength he held against the knotty root of some long-perished tree that laced the ground in his path. They were saved! Bu; when Michael said "for Catherine! " David's feelings under went another change. His hatred returned a thousand-fold, he no longer wished to save his rival, he wished to thrust him back, to leave bim to his fate. Perhaps he did transmute this impulse into action, perhaps Michael must have fallen away. David never knew. All passed in a flash of light ning. With an uncertain cry Michael crashed down to death alone, and David lay on the grass where he had fallen back and stared at the sky and the sailing moon, and vaguely calculated how soon she would reach that great bank ot black cloud that yawned before her. Xext he observed on the crass, at a little distance from him. Michael's cap, which had fallen off in the struggle. He would have recognized it auywhere by its shape, its color, its frayed and sun-browned binding. The blustering wind racing along the cliff top raised the cap on edge, played with it capriciously, whirled it to the brink ot the precipice, balanced it there, toppled it over. David experienced horrible pain at seeing this senseless inanimate object thus disap pear before bis eyes. It woke him from his stupor. It carried his thoughts down to Michael; he shuddered; had he died quickly or was be alive and conscious of the in creeping sea, that within a few hours would wash high up the base of every rock and boulder along that lonely coast? David crept along the edge, leaned over the abyss, and called down with all his strength. The wind seized hold of his voice, scattered it hither and thither, overpowered it. No human sound might reach to down there below; vision might not scan the depth of those Ttan walls, or cleave the blackness of their shadows. Yet for a moment David, banging over the precipice, fan cied he could distinguish a dark and awful something blotting the moon-white shore; then the light flickered, paled, went out, the moon had reached the swarthy cloud bank, she passed into it and left him alone. He got up and stumbled home through the windy darkness. As he went he re hearsed the three years of his good friend ship with Michael. Closest, most insepa rable of companions, never an unkind word bad passed between them, until they had made the acquaintance of Catherine Eames. Now. because of this girl, Michael's body lay crushed at the foot of Brnwncap Cliff, and David was not only a murderer, but to conceal his crime must become a liar and a hypocrite as well. He loathed himself, his old love for Michael was strong within bim; and never theless, before the next sun rose, he had skil fully pieced together and learned by heart the story he was to adhere to throughout the remainder of his life. CHAPPER VI. "What do you mean to do?" This was the question Scott asked O'Brien the first moment he found himself alone with him next day. There was no doubt in Scott's mind now but that O'Brien knew him for the murderer of his brother Michael. "I have not come to a decision," an swered O'Brien, with more than usual gloom. "Did you know all along I was the man you were in search of?" "When I heard of you from the Van Hannens, it occurred tome you might be the man, but, when I saw you I fancied I was mistaken, you looked so" much older than I expected." "To bear a secret burden of guilt for 20 years does ape a man." said, Scott humbly; "but for my poor Catherine's .sake I should be glad now the end has come." This conversation took place in Scott's private office during an interval ot business. Within a few leet off was the room lull of pen-driving clerks, young fellows who now and then exchanged a gay jest over their work; beyond, again, was the jar and rum ble of city life; all things ran in their ac customed grooves, only lor Scott was the world revolutionized. His prosperous, honored, hypocritical career was at an end, and the question this morning of paramount importance to him, was how and when O'Brien meant to pluck away the mast:. "It was seeing your daughter con vinced me I was on the ligbjL track," said O'Brien; "she has ber motherV name and her mother's hair." Scott was astonished. "How can you know that?" O'Brien took from his breast-pocket an oblong packet Unfolding the paper in which it was wrapped, be produced an old and shabby pneketbook. "This was Michael's," said be, "I took It from the body that evening, and through nil my wanderings and misadventures I have managed to keep it safe. Sea-water, time and friction have rubbed 'away the writing it once contained, but long ago I learned its contents by heart There, over and over again, stood a woman's name, 'Catherine,' 'Catherine Earne,' and sometimes JCtther--ine O'Brien;' onoe it stood 'Catherine Scott," but a black line had been rn.-T through it And here in. the pocket .I,Tound'ji.treasure time has not destroyed,'-' "" He laid upon the table-a lone tress of woman's hair, fine in texture, yellow -in color, and wanting but'the brightness of liv ing hair to be the precise. counterpart of Catherine Scott's. " , It was the actual lock of hair, for possess ing which Michael had lost bis life. And David had earned the ciirse ot Cain. Tears came into Scott's eyes as he looked vat this last memento of all the beauty that had gone to dust , ' "It seems a small thing now to have quar reled over," he said, "but t&en it Meant to me so muchl Yet iraho had only told me, . . for after all she loved your brother best . I found this out when it' was top late. But even Irom the very beginning 'the shadow of the dead stood betwern me and hen, and when she lay dving, and I knelt beside her, it was his name she uttered with .her tailing 'breath. I never -pray 'to God but Michael comes to appeal against me, and Catherine in heaven -knows all' and turns away her face. At eight-a'nd-twenty ray hair was gray, and yon see wbat"! am now . . . broken up, a wreck . What is it you mean todo?" "I don't know," said the other again. Deep furrows seamed themselves in his lore head, and he looked at Scott "with ansry eves. Not because of Scott's crime-against Michael, which he had long known, bnt be cause in his own breast-a strange and enrag ing sentiment of pity warred frith his legiti mate revenge. The hopes ol one day meet ing with his brother's murderer, and exact ing payment to the uttermost farthing, had lent bim the energy 'and vitality, to .sur vive privations that would have killed another man; the idea had been to him a talisman of power which had bver and oyer again brought him unharmed frora the jaws ot death. Yet now that the moment for which he had so long waited was come, be hesitated. In spite ofjall-he feltVlrtend ship, an affection almost lor David Scott, that filled him with scorn fur himself.' He set about recalling his former feelings in the hopes of re-animating them. "Often," said he aloud, "have I ; planned out in my exile what I should do' when I met with Michael's murderer. I pictured to myself that I should find him poor, ob scure, uncared for, with nothing-precious to him but his worthless life; thenI would take that life, I would 'seize him by the throat, and, reminding him of Michael, slowly press his breath from him. But should I, on the contrary, 'find him as I have actually found you, rich, honoted, well thought of, with loving hearts on which to lean, then I promised myself I would de nounce him, drag him to- justice, let him suffer all the torturing slowness of the law before expiating his crime by a shameful death.' You think perhaps I have not sufficient proof? or that after so many years I could not obtain a conviction?" "I should confess everything," answered Scott; "here and now, if Vou wish it, I will write a confession, and sign it 'before wit nesses. How often have I not longed to un burden my soul, and lacked -courage! You talk of punishment, of expiation; believe me a man may suffer all the tortures of hell within his own heart What cuts more sharnly than unavailing regret?" "The scorn of one's fellow men," said O'Brien, calling up the, dregs of his wanng anger to give poignaucy to' his tone; "the child's knowledge that the -father is un worthy of her honor and her love." "Our sins shall he visited on our children," murmured Scott; "and yet my poor Catherine ! I would spare her if I could. Sometimes I hoped that God would permit me through her to make you reparation?" O'Brien's "face became a dusky red, his eyes glowed with animation; the next mo ment he was iron again, and had bitten back the words on the tip of his tongue. "What I myself might have hoped for un der other circumstances, has been rendered impossible by your crtme. What connec tion could I have with the murderer of my brother? Would not his spirit haunt me? As it is, I am becoming contemptible, to my self. 1 am temporizing and allowing human consideration to come between me and my just revenge." "Do not let mistaken pity hold your hand. I am at. your mercy. Show it by dealing the blow quickly. Suspense alone is more than I can bear." "I shall choose ray own time and my own measures," said O'Brien malignantly, "and il you find the suspense hard, remember it is not one-tenth of the misery your victim suffered, dying on the rooks alone; or that I have gone through since,-thanks to you. I have yet to consider the necessary steps to take, and I will let you know when I come to a decision." A clerk here entered introducing urgent business, and no more was said; but Scott tacitly accepted his enemy's conditions, and resumed his outward life of honorable com posure. It became apparent to Scott that if O'Brien had ever cared for Catherine, he now successfully crushed Tout the sentiment. Now. when he came over to Streatbam, he avoided being alone with her. He sat darkly silent. Ifhe addressed him he did not seem to hear, or else answered her ab ruptly, almost rudely. At this her pretty eyes would fill with tears, and for ten min utes after such a rebuff she could scarcely command herself to speak; then she would find excuses for him in her heart, feel sure that the fault was hers, and try a thou sand dear devices for making herself more pleasing to him. If he still neglected her, she would go to the piano and sing, and O'Brien lound it difficult, when listening to her sweet young voice, to maintain "his moroseuess. , Scott watched her with admiration arid pain. She was so like the other Catherine in face and form, so different in disposition. The other Catherine had accepted all hom age as ber right, this Catherine seemed to plead for kindness as a favor. The mother had played capriciously withithe passionate hearts that loved her; the daughter, in retri bution as it were, offsred her fresh intense affections to one who coldiy turned aside. O'Brien at length gave up visiting at Streatbam at all. Catherine waited, hoped, grew anxious and sought her father. "Why docs Mr. O'Brien no longer come here?-' she asked; "is he ill?" "No, ".Scott answered, "he was at the of fice to-day." "Then why does he not come as be used to?" "Perhaps he is busy.-' t "Ob, but not in the evening! Ask him, dearest, to come out tp dinner to-morrow." "Well, is he not coming?" was the first question she put when hen father returned alone the next day. , "My dear, he thanks you for the invita tion, but be has another engagement" It was misery to Scott to see how Cather ine's color came and went, and how her eyes filled up with tears. "It is I who stand in my 'darling's way," he thought He began to 'wonder if his death would make any difference;"whethcr then O'Brien would be. able - to forgive the girl her parentage. He, began to watch with a new interest the progress of. his dis ease. Catherine could not sleep. She came down in the mornings looking pale and tired. Scott lay awake at night too, but this was from the ever-increasing physical pain. Presently he was no longer able to go into business". CHAPTEK,VII,' , ' One day in September James, 'O'Brien came over to Streatbam. He had at last made up his mind what .he.sliqnld do, and he wished to communicate his Intentions to David Scott. V V -'- He was shown into the study, where Scott lay back in an armchair supported by pil lows. There was a' great" and. ghastly chance in his face. For this O'Brien had been prepared partly by Scott's absence from the office, partly 'by rfew words he had exchanged with a 'gentleman .Who was leaving the house as O'Brien entered it This was a minister of Scott's church; he had been sitting with the invalid: He spoke of Scott's great suffering?, and in-conventional phraseology! but .withreal-earnest ness, of his Christian patience) and of. the loss he would be to ttfera'allfif-tho 'Lord PITTSBURG. 'DISPATCH. , THURSDAY. DECEMBER saw fit to take him. The servant joined ir to praise his master, and O'Brien's ob servant eye took in the inquiry cards that completely covered the hall table. All these tokens of.respect and solicitude awoke anew the devil in his bre'est, and -he more than half' regretted the -resolution he bad come to, which was to relinquish his venge ance and leave the murderer to fate. A varictv of motives had brought him to this principally perhaps the strange affection he .felt for the man who bad so injured him. Scott, looking up at his visitor with depre cation, did not venture to offer his hand. "It is very kind of you to come and see me," he said. "I have come to tell ynu I am going away, back to America. You are safe. I have broken my vow." O'Brien refused a chair, and stood gazing moodily info the emptv garden. " , "Vhy do j on spare me?" asked Scott humbly.. - - "Because I'm a fool, I suppose, and a coward." "But why do you- go 2" said Scott; "I shall not be here long; for do not think I shall escape, punishment The hand of God is upon me. It 'is hard to leave my poor Catherine all alone. And death itself is hard." O'Brien looked about the room. There lay Catherine's little embroidered handker chief, on the open book, from which she had probably been reatling aloud; here on the table by" Scott's elbow was n glorious bunch of purple grapes; the pillows behind his bead, the shawl over his knees had oeen ar ranged by loving bands. O'Brien called to mina the sympathy of the minister, the eulogy of the servant, the cards from ac quaintances and friends. He was filled with bitterness. "Some deaths arc harder than others, " said he; "you find it hard to die here among" your own" people, waited on by those who love you, with every alleviation that money and science can give. You are attended by the first doctor'in London, who, though he cannot enre you, can relieve your pain. Your clergyman comes and talks to you of God and of His forcrivenes", and all who know ynu speak of you with respect and re gret. All day long your daughter Catherine is by your "side to soothe ynu with her caresses; yon will pass away" in her arms, death will lose half its terrors with your head reposing in her tender breast And you cull that expiation? Let me remind you how Michael died. Suddenly iu the midst of life and strength be found himself face to face with death. And It was to a cruel and lingering death to which he was condemned. For the fall crippled bim, but did not kiil him outright. Who can say how many hours he lingered there on those lonely wind-swept rocks? At first, stunned by the fall, weakened by loss of blood, the time went by unconsciously; then he would collect his thoughts, remembered how you thrnst him down over the preci picein a moment of passion, and he would feel sure of your repentance and assistance. Did vou bea.- pb voice calling up to you?" "The wind drowned every cry," said the sick man, and drops of sweat stood upon his forehead and trickled down his face. "But caniot you imagine how hekepv expecting you? expecting that you would seek belp, let down ropes, come down your self to seek the friend you had loved? or that you would. 'hasten into Hardsmoutb, get a boat, come around by the coast?" "It was a night of storm," said Scott, "no boat could have'lived in such a sea." "But Michael lived through the night He must have crawled up to the spot where I found the corpse, otherwise he would have been washed away. Think of the lonely and awful day succeeding that night, as be lay there dying of exposure, of loss oi blood, ot wantof aid. Picture the pain of that utter abandonment. Too weak to call for help, too weak at last to move, and the crows gathering around him to stare into his glazing eyes. But he could think, and his thoughts could not have been such as to solace biin. What had he to think ol? The treachery of a friend a friend, who, having murdered him, was not likely to stick at blasting his good name. He must have foreseen the specious tale you would get carried to the girl he lo'ved; that she would believe he bad deserted her, and so give her hand to .his rival. Perhaps he foresaw you in jnst such a life as you have led, honored and happy, while he, cut off in the hey-day of youth, went down to an unknown grave. II be cursed God then in the agonies ot his abandonment, who can blame him? Yet, according to you and people of your creed, he'thereby lost his soul, and so will suffer eternally;" while you, in spite of your crime, because you have had time and opportunity to repent and obtain forgiveness, will die and go straight to life eternal. You may please yourself by calling this an expiation. I can only see in it an aggravation of the unfairness of your lot and his." O'Brien watched the anguish in his vic tim's face with a keen pleasure at his heart; bnt down deeper still was a more keen painjjbr he had come to love David Scott as much as one man can-love another, and yet felt bound to conceal his love and show hatred because oi the oath he had sworn. Bitter words were all that remained to him "now he had abandoned bitter ven geance; yet he despised himself for bending to handle such woman's weapons. Scott leaned his head upon his hand. "To die alone.... yes, it must be hard," he murmercd; "human sympathy in that last hour is what the whole soul longs for. And Michael had none. No, I have not expiated." An idea struck him. His mind was so unhinged he believed it came from God. But he must be alone to carry it out "WilL you leave me a little while?" be asked; "the pain here" he pressed his side "is so terrible . . . there is a remedy I must try. Perhaps in the garden you may find Catherine, you will wish to bid her good-bye but then return to me here alone." In moody sileuce O'Brien opened the French window and stepped out; then Scott, unlocking a drawer in the table beside him, produced a small pistol, and laid it on the desk. CHAPTER VIII. At the same moment a gentle knock came to the door,and Scott knew it was Catherine's touch. He drew a newspaper over the pistol, leaned back among the pillows, and making a strenuous effort to compose his voice, called her in. Never had she looked so sweet and win ning, but Scott knew these loveliest blushes were not for him. "Mr. O'Brien, father, is walking in the garden," she began; "I, saw him from my window. Ought I not Shall I go out to Mm?" "Ye?, go out to bim for he has come to take leave of us, Catherine. He is going aw.iv." t " "Awayl" repeated Catherine, distressed. "Where? Why?" "He is returning to America." "But only for a visit? He will come back?" she insisted, with varying color. "No, dear one; I think I Tear he is going away forgo&d." Catherine looked at her father with those speaking eyes of hers1, which had long ago told him the secret she had thought so well concealed. But now it trembled on her tongue also. She opened her .lips, hesitated, and could not speak. O'Brien came in sight of the window, crossing the end of the lawn. He was deep in thought, but evidently Catherine had no share m i He gave no glance toward the house, nor round nbout him, as he must have done had he been hoping to see her. One hand was carried behind his back, now loosely closed, now vehemently clenched; the other held his stick, which he prodded .viciously into the ground as he walked. Scott's eyes, following Catherine's, fell upon this figure, and despair seized the father, a forlorn hope awoke in the girl. "Father, I love bim," she said, looking up bravely. "I have known it long, dearest." "Did you say nothing?" this very wist fully. ' "Nothing you would caro to hear. He spoke of bis journey and ol other things. He is a man 'whom grief and injury bare rendered hard. He has no thought for softer feelings.", "Yet, if he.bad cared," said- Catherine, "it would have pleased you too? For you like him, father?" Scott cave no reply; yet he loved O'Brien and Catherine so much he had come to the determination then nnd'there to putan end to his life, and so, "by avenging Michael, to remove the impediment between them. Catherine pursued her train of thought. "Do you remember what you said to me one night in the spring, as we drove home from town? It was a lew days before I first met him." That was the epoch-making day of her life, and every event was dated before or after. "What did Isay, Catherine?" "You said thatawomau should not be afraid to show her affection. That some times she might miss happiness by hidintr it too well. That sometimes you know a man might be in love with a girl and be too proud to show it unless she Father!" said Catherine, lilting a pale and piteous face, "I love him so passionately that It is painful! There is a pain always here!" she pressed her hands upon her heart "I shall find no ease till he knows it. Day and night I am urged by a feeling I cannot ex plain to tell him, although I hope for noth ing, I ask for nothing iu return. But un less I may speak I shall die! May I father?" Scott saw, in thfs unrequited passion of his Catherine's, the expiationdemandcd for her mother's levity, the last drop in his own cup of crief. But perhaps, ton, her in nocent confession would touch O'Brien's heart, and when he should also find Scott had made the final reparation, he would re lent and be good to her." "Go," said Seott, "if you mnst, and ob tain, if you can, my pardon likewise. Good-bye, my little daughter; God be with you." Catherine went out into the garden and lelt her father alone. CHAPTER IX. She had heard his words of fare; well, yet had attached no signifi cance to them. Preoccupied with her own thoughts, she felt she had come to the supreme moment of her life, and the sudden meeting with Death himself could not have more terror for her, or more strange sweet ness than this thine she was about to do. And as, too, at the hour of death, all false shame and all conventionalities drop away, and the soul at last comes near to other souls, as it never could do in life, so the rules aud teachings, all the arbitrary laws of society, slipped Irom her, and she listened to the voice of her heart alone. O'Brien, turning at the end of the grass, Baw her as she advanced toward him. He steeled himself to coldness. Catherine gave him, for one instant, a chill and fluttering hand. "You are going to leave us?" she said. "Yes; my passage is booked for next week." "But why do you go?" "Whyshould Istay?" He replied roughly. "My business is finished; I have no other ties here."" "We had hoped, my father and I," said Catherine, "you would have found England so pleasant, you would not have wished to leave." "Ah, of course!" he retorted bitterly. "Because vou find life pleas int yourself, you imagine every one else should do so. It Is common mistake. But you have a home, frieuds, many who love you, and so vou are happy. I have none of these ihines." "But you might have them," said Cathe rine cently, "it you wished." "That is a pretty speech. I suppose I ought to thank yon? But I have lived a rude, uncivilized life too long ever to ac quire the knack of giving and taking the pretty nothings of society." The savage way he said this, the apparent anger that blazed from his eyes, did not daunt Catherine; on the contrary, it gave her courage. "Mine was no pretty speech, and you know it," she answered; "if you go it is to please yourself, not because there are none to regret you here." "If I thought vou would regret me," said be, tentatively; '"'but, no, I should be a fool so to deceive, myself I You will forget ma in n week. There is no one who cares for me." This speech was1 framed with the cruelly deliberate purpose, of learning more. He watched her closely to note its effect, and he saw how it awakened some strong omotlon in the depths of her pensive eyes, how it' changed the expression of her sweet and tremulous mouth, and brought the vivid color to ber cheek. But to herself she seemed to be lifted above time and space, to be standing with O'Brien in spirit only, she felt herself brave and free to speak her inmost thoughts as only a spirit may. "Do not say that no one cares for you," she began, "for there is a girl who' loves you, and has loved you all along. Why should I be ashamed to own it? Does it do you any harm, or me any dishonor? I think it does me honor! I am better, prouder, and more glad since I have known you than I ever was in my lite before. And I ask nothing Irom you in return, only I could not let you go away without telling you. I said to myself, we arc allowed to show our feelings of kindness, Iriendsbip, or admiration; why then must love, which is best , of all, be hidden forever in our hearts as if it were something criminal? Let me tell you everything. At first you were always good to me; I thought that you liked me, and I tried to please yon. Then you grew cold, and I was tormented, always wondering what was the reasou. Sometimes I fancied if I had not been rich, you would have come nearer to me; and yet my heart told me that a mau who loved a woman at all would hold her far beyond and above her wealth. But then, when I heard just now you were going away forever, I lelt I could not let you go in ignorance; for, even where one cannot return the same affection, it is surely good to know 6neseif beloved. And I like to imagine that, in the days to come, when yon yourself will love some good and beautilul woman, what I have told you will return to you and give you confidence. And do not think I shall he unhappy now, when you have left me. I shall be happier all my li'e for having known you, and for having once, and once only.spokeu the whole truth. And in proof of how much I trust you, I shall never, never regret what I have told you to-day." O'Brien was looking at her with ardor. He had somehow got both her cold little hands in his; he pressed them passionately, and the girl, in spite of her last brave, asseveration, was seized with fear. Her body trembled like a leaf, her face was suffused with blushes, she could not lift her eyes irom the ground. At that moment she would have given the world to be away, anywhere out of his sight, out of the sound of his voice. She would have arrested perversely, had she been able, the words she so longed to hear. "Catherine, my darling, you have more than atoned 1" be said, in a voice strangely altered, for the man had grown young again; he bad thrown away the burden of a 20 years' hatred, and the dark vow that had bound his heart snapped like a gossamer thread. "I have not deserved your love, but come," and he began to lead her down through the trees out of sight, "come! I, too, have much to tell you!" CHAPTER X. David Scott knelt down by his desk with the little pistol lying before him. Iu the strong sunlight which filled the room he looked what he was a dying man. All around him were evidences of bis material success. Fine pictures hung upon the walls, handsomely-bound books filled the dwarf cases, richly-colored oriental carpets ,were spread over the floor. Through the window his eyes fell upon his owu freehold acres; upon the lawns and shrubberies which were hit; upon the million fanned chestnuts, the feathery acacias, the ever rustling elms, whicb, planted so uianyen erationa ago by dead hands, bad grown straight aud strong to shadow the gardens for his use. He saw J his daughter, con spicuous in her white dress, talking with O'Brien. The conversation between them en:d suddenly to 'grow intense. Catherine 18, 1890 gesticulated unconsciously with her bands. He could guest from their motion, as well as Irom O'Brien's ncid figure and sunken head, how fruitless was her task. Scott groaned. The physical pain he was suffering at that moment from the rapid de velopment of his disease was nothing to his agony of mind. Iu the midst ol luxury and every apparent condition of happiness, David Scott was as miserable iu body and soul as any man that day in London. He clasped his bauds, and " the tears forced themselves down his sunken cheeks. "O God and Father," he prayed alond, "if I do this thing Thou knowest "the purity of my motives. Not in despair, nor in con tempt of Thy holy laws, do I take the life Thou has given me, but to expiate the ' crime by which I took Michael's life from him, and left hlui to die alone without one friendly hand to moisten his lips with water, or wipe the death-dews from his brow. If in those last dreadful moments he doubted of Thy goodness, the tault was mine. Il he came into Thy presence uncalled and unprepared, it i right that I, too, should in the same way seek Thy awful judgment seat, for bast nut Thou said, 'An eye tor an eye, a tooth for a tooth?' Bnt toward my little girl, my Catherine " The augnish of this thought was too much for the man; he laid-his head on the table before him. aud bis prayer lost all coherency and purpose. For some mo ments his soul was in contusion. Then his hand touched the cold steel of the pistol, and it recalled to him his intention. He grew calm, rose from his knees, carefully looked to the loading of the pistol, and, holding it in his right hand, pressed the noz zle against his waistcoat, moving it a little this way or that as he lelt for the heart below. A shadow fell upon the window. Cath erine stood without aud O'Brien looked over her shoulder. The cirl pushed open the glass and came iu. Her face was exquisite iu its shy happiness. Seott had just time lo put the pistol down unobserved on the table behind him, before Catherine reached her arms up round bis neck, and laid her head upon his breast. "Dearest," she murmured, "we are going to be so happy!" Scott looked over the pretty fair head to O'Brien. There was something in the man's appearance totally different to his ordinary sell aud yet strange ly well known. "David!" he "said, coming nearer, and Scott's thoughts traveled mysteri ously back to the davs of Michael's lifetime: "David, will yon forgive me for Catherine's sake as I have for given you?" A giddiness rushed over Scott. He had but time to put Catherine from his arms be fore the room turned round with him, wavered into blackness, and for an instant everything was blank. Then be stepped out of the darkness onto a sunlit cliff, where he and Michael were walking side by side; every step they took was ou scented thyme and tiny golden coltsfoot, two blue butterflies fluttered in arabesques over the ground, above was a blue and ardent heaven, below :i blue and glittering sea. He tasted the saltness upon his lips, and the slumber ous far-away sea song hummed in his ear;. Michael spoke to him and lie answered. At first it was solid, vivid reality. Then he came to know it was only his spirit there on the cliffs, his body was lying back in his easy chair in his own library, where busy hands were endeavoring to keep him cap tive, to cheat him of the vision. He resisted, his soul escaped once more to the cliff, but already its sunshine was paler, its flowers drooping, its butterflies departed. Michael's face looked strange and indistinct, yet bis voice now sounded close at hind, in his ear. "Davy! Davy!" What did it all mean? For surely he was again in his own library, straggling pain fully bark to consciousness. Yes, it was the voice of the dead Michael, but it was James O'Brien who spoke, kneel ing beside Scott's chair. "Forgive me. Davy! dear old friend, for give me; my sin has been greater than yours!" From O'Brien's face the dark, determined look was gone; bis eyes had lost their cold ness; emotion gave him back a reflection of his beautilul youth. Over the dying man old memories crowded. He understood now why Irom the very first the; stranger had held such fascination fur bim. "There never was a James O'Brien," said the speaker, "he was a figment of my brain, an instrument of my vengeance. For it was I who, lying crippled at the cliff's foot, was picked up by the crimps and shipped while still unconscious. During 20 years of exile I brooded revenge. I thought on onr broken friendship, my lost Catherine, my ruined life, and my heart became a hell of evil thoughts. I sought you out with the determination of making you pay lor every pang that I had suffered, and, when I found you happv in your daughter, I conceived the dastardly plan of playing with her beartas the mother had played with mine. But from the first moment I saw Catherine something more than the old love revived. I felt I could do her no wrong, so I made up my mind to leave. 1 meant to forego every thing once nore friendship, love, happi ness, and my revenge as well. But Cathe rine dear, brave, generous Catherine has given me bncE all you once took from me a hundred-fold. Let her earn me, David, your pardon, too." A twilight fell upon the room for David Scott Only dimly could he see the faces of the man and woman he so loved; but hold, ing a hand of each in each of his, his feeble grasp tightened a little over them as he spoke. "God has been very merciful to me," he said, "be good and happy, Catherine." Then he withdrew his hand irom hers to lean over more completely toward O'Brien. "Kiss me, Michael," he asked him; but almost bet'ore the kiss of good comradeship could be given and received, he sunk gently back in his chair, and died without a sigh. Temple liar. the E3D. AUCTION. Watches, Diamonds, Jewelry and Silver ware, Etc-, AT NO. 533 SMITHI'IELD STEEET. Positively this stock will be sold to the highest bidder without reserve, as I am de termined to close out this stock. Come and buy your Christmas presents at yonr own price. Sales every morninc, afternoon and evening until all is sold. Store for rent and fixtures for sale. d Gents' smokine jackets in solid colors with gay silk linings and trimmings. Jackets in handsome bold plaids. Jackets for office or bedroom at $7, $8, S10 and up. Bibek & Easiok. Do you work bard? A glass of pure lager will help you. Call for Iron City Brewing Co.'s make at any good bar, or order direct. Tel. 1186. Extra bargains in eider down comforta bles, satine covers and lull siz-; the best values ever shown at 5, $7, $10 and $15; beautiful silk covers, $20 to $40. ttssu Hugus & Hacks. Sunday school candy a specialty. Thos. R. Herd & Co., Allegheny. Choice Stock Ol fine pianos and oreans for the holidays at Lechner & Sehoenberger's, 69 Fifth ave nue. Low prices; easy payments. Old in struments exchanged. , ttsu Toadies' Fine Coats and Wraps. Seql plush mantles, $16. $18, $20. Seal plush cloaks, $16, $20, $25. Braided cloak mantles, $12 to $25. Embroidered plush mantle.", $20 to S75. Hich grade Alaska seal capes. High grade Alaska seal cloaks. All the above at revised prices to force a rapid reduction of stock. Biber & EA3TOJT. Dress eoods, dress goods, dress goods at 25c, 50c, 75o'ana"$l a .yard; no such 'assort ments or values offered elsewhere in this city. TTsaa Hugus & Hacke, NEW AXTEKTISE1IESTS. UNLOADING SALE U PRlflP Tfl PRIOR ie For This sale has been a great sticcess, and the public art pleased 'with the bargains we are offering. To-day we have reduced a. lot of Black Silk Warp Henrietta Cloths from $i down to $gc. Also, jp pieces Fancy Black Goods from j 5c and 85c down to 4QC Also, 50 pieces Colored Cashmeres, all wool, from 65c down to 50c a yard. Also, jo pieces Colored Cashmeres from 3 c down to 25c. 100 pieces All-wool Cloths, double width, to o at 25c. 52 inch Tricot Cloths, 25c. Entire stock of Smoking Jackets reduced to about half former prices. CLOAK ROOM REDUCTIONS WONDER FUL. Surah Silks reduced to 19c a yard. Silk Vel vets 'reduced to 45c all colors. Beautiful line of HO LID A YHANDKER CHIEFS, UMBRELLAS, etc. 35 Fifth Avenue, KAXLKO ADS. PKNSyiVAMA KAII.KOAD lX AND after Nor. 3.'. 1S90. trains leare Union Station. Mttahnrs, as rollom. Juuteni HtanOATil Time: MAIN LINE EASTWARD. Hew York and Chicago Limited ot fullman Ves tibule dally at 7 :U a. m. Atlantic Express dally ror the iCatt, J:C0 a. m. Mall train, dally, except Sundsr. 3:30 a. m. So, day. mau. 8:40 a. iu. Day express dally at 8:00 a. m. Mall express dally at 1 :00 p. m. l'hUadelphla express dallr at 4:30 p. nu .Eastern express dally at 7:15 (. is. .Past Line dally at 8U0 p. m. Ureensburs: express 5:10 p. ra. week days. Dcrry express il:00a m. week days. All tnronelx trains connect at Jersey City wlta bouts or "Brooklyn Annex" for Brooklyn, if. Y., avoiding double ferriage and journey tnrougn H. Y.CltT. Wall's Aecom.. 6:15. 7:3). 9:U0, 10:30 a. m.. 12:13, :K0. S:C0. aim. b:?0, 6:S, 7:X y:l p. m. and 12.10 a. m. (except .Monday). Sunday, 12:10 a. m.. 1J:25, 2:Z 0:m and 9:4a p. in. Wllklnsburx Aecom., 6:00. 6:40 7:00 a. m.. 12:01, 4:00. 4tT5, 5:31. 5:4C 5:W. 6:10. lu:10 and 11:40 p. m. Sunday. 12:40 aud 9:15 p. m. Uraddock aecom.. 5:50, 6:50, 7:40. 8:10, 9:50, 11:15 a.m.. I2:JU. 1:25, 2:50, 4:10,6:01', 635, 7:20. -S.X 9:00 and 10:45 p. m.. week 4ias. Mindiy, 5:J5a.m. SOU'XHWKSl- 1'ESS KAIL.WA1. For Umoutown. a:.!0and M:35a. m., 1:45 and 4:23 p. m. Week davs, tnlns arrvo ftom Umoutown at 9:45 a tn.. 12:20. im and 8:19 d. m.. weekdays. WEST J'KNNSYIjVA.NIA DIVISION. From FEDEKAi. ST. SfAlioN. Allejcneny City. Mall train, connecting for Jilalrsvlllp... 6:55s, m, Lxnress. jor Isiairsvllle. copnectlur Tor tiutler S.l1p.m. Butler Aecom C:2Ua.m.. 2:25 and 5:45p.m. bprlUKdale Accom9.00. 11 :50 a, ro.3:30 and 6:20 p.m. Clarciuont Aecom 1:30 p.m. Freeport Aecom 4:15, 7:50 and 11:40 d.io. On Sunday 12:35and 0:30p.ln. North Apollo Aecom 11:008, m. and :00p- ro. Allegheny Junction Accommodation... 8:20 a. m. BlairsTllle'Accommodatlon 10:30 n. m. Trains sxrrre at FEDSKA L STKEET STATION. Fxpress, connecting irom Butler 10:32a. m. MailTraln connecting Irom Butler. l:J5p. in. Butler Express.. 7:50 p. m. Butler Aecom Silua. m.,4:40p. m. illalrsTllIr Accommodation. ........ ......9:52 p. m. Freeport Accom.7:40 a, m.. 1:25. 7:25 and 11:10 p. ra, Ou aundar., 10:10 sr. in. and 6:53 p. m. Sprlngdale- Accom.6:37, 10:58 a. in., 3:45, 6.45 p.m. 2torih Apollo Aecom 8:40 a, m. and 5:40 p. m, UUNUNUAUKL.A DIVISION. Trains leave Union station, l'lttsnurs, as fol lows: For MononaliclaClty, West BrownsTille anrt Uniontoirn. 10:40 a.m. For alonongahcla Cltrand West BrownsTille. 7:35 and 10:40 a. ra. and4'5up, m. On bandar 8:55 a m and 1:01 p. m. For MonongapelaC'lty, 1:01 and 5-50 p. m.. week days. Dravosbiirg Ac., week day6a m and 3:20 p. xa. W est Elizabeth Accommodation. 8.35 a. in.. 4:13 6:30and 11:3a p. m. oundar. 9:40 p. m. 'ticket offlccs 527 snmhnem St.. 110 Firth axe., and Union station CHAM. A. l'Uail. J. K- WOOD, 4JeneralUana:er. Gen'Il'xsslr AienU SALT1MOKE AND OHIO KAI1.KOAD. fccneaiue in enect DovemDcrio, isrc, .eastern time. For Wasnington, V. O. Baltimore, I'hlladetpbti hu ji ew xors, aaw a. xa. and "9:20 p. in. For Cumberland, 8i00a. m.. tlilO. p. m. For Council. Tllle, 28:40, 8:00 and W:35 a. m., W:10. 14:00 snd "9 SO p. m. For Uniontown, 26:40. 8r00, 3:35 a. m., 41:10 and, 24:0011. m . , i"or Mt. Flessant, 26:40 ml?t"1??:(X,a;,n-.an('..;,10 n W.-OOp. m. For asnluirton. Pa. ns -i.-bi m a.as J5:3U and '7:45 and 1 11:5, p. m.' ' For Wheeling. 'San, -j,j, , m.. jk rj.n aI1(j 111 :55 p.m. ' For Clnvt nn d St. Louis, "8:05 a. m., !:1i p. m. For Cincinnati. IHasp. m. ForCoIumbns. 'd:05 a. m., 17:45 an i 111:55 p. ra. For .Newark. "SaTS, a.m., 7:45 and 111:55 p. m. For Chicago, s:05a. in. and 7:45 p. m. Trains arrive from cw York, miladelpbls, Baltimore ami Washington. 8:45 a. m., 7:35 p. in. Front Colnmbns, Cincinnati and Chicago, 8:25a. ei "9:00 p.m. From Wheeling tZO. 10:55 a. in., 25:00, -J:(IOp. in. 'ibrough parlor and sleeping cars to Baltimore, Aashliuton. Cincinnati and Chicago. Dally. Jllally except Sunday. undayonly. ISatunfaTonly. JDally except Saturday. The Flttaburg Transfer Company will call ror and check baggage from hotels and residences unon orders left at B. & O. ticket office, corner Filth aye. and Wood St., or 401 and 639 Smlthaeld street. J. T. ODELL. C11AS. O. SCULL. General Manager. Uen. Fass. AseuC P1TTSMUKO AND LAKE KItlF. KA1LKOAU VOMl'AM Y. Schedule Iu euvct- December 14. laOO. Central time. f.i.L.1, IME. DafAUT For Clevelinil. 4 -30.-8:00 a.m.. '1:35. 43U. "9:45 p. m. For Cincinnati. Chicago aud St. l.ouls.4:3Ua. in.. '1:35, J:45 p. in. For Builalo. 8:00. a. m.. 4:20, 9:45 P.m. For Salamanca, "8:00 a. m.. "1:35 n. m. For Youngstown and New Castle. 4:30. Co. 10:00 a. in., 1:35, '4:20. 9:15 p. m. For Beayer Falls, 4:.iu, 7:00. "Saw, 10:lOa. m., 1:35. 3:30, '4:20,5:20, "9:45 p.m. For hartlers. 4:3', 15:X) s. m.. 5:1), .6:55, 7:00. 7:30. 8:0'.'i:i. 9:10. 10:W 11:35. a. m.. l::20, 12:1), 112:45, 1:40, 3-.S0. 3:55. '4-25, 14:3 4:45, SCk "a-iO. 3:45. 10:30 p. m. AKKIVJC From Cleveland. C:! a. m 12:30. S:4H"7:5op. m. jrom IncinnatL Chicago and St. Louis, 1U:IH' a. m.. "7:50 p. m. From Buffalo, 6:loa. m.. 12:30. 10.05 p. in. From Salamanca, 10:0U a. m., 7:59 p. in. From Youngs:wa ana New Castle, :4U, 'iu:0O a. in.. !, 5i4Uk 7:50, 10:05 p. m. From Hearer Falls, 52n. '6:40, 7r2S, 'lOiOa. m- J2B,l:2a. in 1-M. 10 Klip. m. P.. C. Y. trains ror ilansflein. 7i'.U:35a. ra.. 3:55 p. m. For Esplen and Beecnmoac. 7:30 a. is.. 3:55 p. m. P.. C. & Y. trains from Jlins3eld. 7:01, 11:30 a. ra.. 3:45 p. m. From Bcechmout, 7:02, lido r..MoK.Y. K. K. Oifart ror New Ha Ten, I:0. VHOa. m.. "3:00 p. m. For West New ton. 17:40, M::i a. m.. 3rJ0. 5:25p- m. AnatVI From New Harcn. "9:CO a. nu. "4:10, p. m. From West Newton. 6:15. 9:W a- m 4:10 p. to. . . For ilclveesport, Elizabeth, ilononrahela. City and Belle Vernon. 6:15. 17:40, 11:20 a. to., 13:00, 'from llelle Vernon. Mononrahela City. Eliza beth and McKeesport, 7H5, 19:00 a. m., ana, 14:10, 4:40 b, m. Dally. ISundays only. City Ticket Olllce. 639 bmlthfleld Street. ALLEGHENY VALLEY KAILUOAU Tralns leave Untin station (Eastern Stand ard time): East Brady Ac. 6:55 a. in.: Niagara Ex.. dally. 8:15 a. ui. (Arriving at Buffalo at 5:45P.M.); Klttannlng Ac, 9.00 a. m.: Uulton Ac. 10:10 a. m.: Valley Camp Ac, J-aH p.m.; Oil City aud DuOoIs Express. 1:30 p. m.tltulton Ac. SaTO p. m.; Kittannlnjr Ac. 3:55 p. m.: Valley Camp Ex., 4:55 p. in.: Klttannlng Ac, Sao p. m.: Brscbnm Ac, 6:20 p. in.: Muilou Ac. 7:50 p. m.t'ButtaloEx.. dally. 8:45 p. in. (Arriving at Buffalo 7:20 A ji.);JInIton Ac, 9:43 p. in.; Brae bnrn Ac. ll:30p. ra. cuurcft trains Euilrntou. 9a. m.; Klttannlng. 12:40 p. ra.: Bracnnrn. 9:40 p. m. Pullman Parlor Cars on daytrrlnsand sleeping Car on night train between Plttsourg ann Butiaio. JAS. P. ANUEltSxih. u. T. Aat.: DAVID MCCAltUO. Oeu. sup. PIITSBUBG AND CAVTLK SHANNON It. K summer Time Tabic On and arttr March 30 18U0, until turther notice, train will rnu as fol lows on every day, eiccptSuudar. KaUern stand ardtlme: Leavlnsc Pittsburg 6r2J a. m.. 7:10 a. m.. 8:0ua. m., 9.30a. m.. llMJn. in., 1:10 p. ra. 3:40 p.m. .5:10 p. hi. .5:50 p.m., 6:J3 p.m.. 9:33 p.m. 11:30 p. ui. Arlingtoii-5:40a. m., 6:29 a. in.. 7:t a. m., 8:00 a. m., 10:20a. m., 1:00 p. m 2:40p.m. 4:20 p. ui . 5:10 p. m.. 5:50 p. m.. 7:10 p m., 10:3 p. m. Sunday trains, leaving Plttaburjr 10 a.m. 12:50 p. m., 2:30 p. ra., 5:10 p. m..7:15 p.m.. 9:30 p m. Arlington 9:10 a. to., 13:10 p. m., 1:05 p. in. 4SQP. m..op. .,.;. J0H1(JAUiff aapw r: tfC'KSr I TO STOCK-TAKING -TO. Mier M. Pittsburg, Pa. delS-Ofl KAILKOAD.S From Plttsbarg Union SUtloa. !if liiennsulvaniaLines. Trails Hun by Caitra! Tim. SOUTH WEST a X SiJJiii sr a o.ajx uujl, w u a .e. , Wha.Hn. vilie 5-.ua.ni- Washington. 6:15. SUSS a. in.. 1:55. 3:30,4:45.4:55p.m. Bulger. 10:10a. m. Burgetts town, S 11:35 a. m- 515 p. m. Mansneld. ItU, 9:30 U.09 a. m 1KB, 6:30, 1 B:3i. Brldxevllle. 10.10 p. m. McDonalds, d 4:15, 13:45 p. m., s 10:tJ TjtAras ACRiVTfrom the West, d 2J0. d 6.00a. a.. 3:05, d 6:55 p. m. Dennlson, 9:30 a.m. steu benvllle, S-p. m. Wheeling; 2:10, 8:45'a. m.. 35. 5:55 p. m. Bnrgettstown, 7:15 a. m.. 3 3:01 a. ra. V ashlngton, 6:55. 7:50. 9:4a 10:25 a. su. 2.35, 8:25 p. m. MansOelil, 5:30. 5:53, bJO. 11:40 a. ra,. 12:45, 3:55. 10:03 and S 6:20 p. m. Bulger. l:tt p. xa. AlcDonalds. d 6:35 a, m., da :00p.m. MOKTHWESTSYSTEM-FT. WAYNE KOUTE. Leave lor Chicago, d 7:i0 a. w., d K:2. d 1:00. d 1:45, except Saturday 11:20 p.m.: Toledo. 7:10 a. m.. d 12:20. d 1.-0U, and exeeptSaturday 11:20 p.m.: Crestllne.S:45 a. m.. Cleveland. 6:10 a m. :I2:45 d ll.-OS p. m.. and7:10a. m.. vlaP.. Ft. W.JLC.Ky.:.New Castle and Yonngstown, 7:20 a. in.. 12:20, 3:3op. m.: Youngstown and Mies, d 1251 p. m.:51ead vllle, Erie and Ashtabula, 7:20 a. in.. 12:20 p. in.: Nlles and Jamestown. 3:3o p. in.: Alliance. 4:13 p.m.: Wheeling and Bellalre. 6:10 s, m.. 12:45. i:45p. m. : Beaver Falls, 4.00 p. m. t Hesva Falls, a 8:20 a.m.: Leetsdale. 5:30a.m. jJXPABT FROM ALLEOIIKXY ltoch ester, e,T0 S. in.: Beaver Falls. 8:15.11.1)0 a. eu5:w p.m.: S 4:30 p. m,: Knon, 3:00 p. m.: Leetsdale. 5:00. 9:00, 10:00,11:45 a. ra.: 1:15. 2:30. 4:30, 4:45. 5:30, 6:14. 7:30, 9.00 amis 8:30 p. m.: Conway. 10:30 p.m.; FalrOaksS 11:40 a.m. TBAIXS AHlUTKljnion station from Chicago, ex cept Monday. 1:50, d 6.-00. d 6:35 a. m.. d 5:55 and d 6:50 p.m.: Toledo, except Monday, 1:50, d 5:35 a. m 5:55 and 6:59 p. m.t Crestline, 12:30 p. m.; Youngstown and Newcastle, 9:111 a. m.. 1:25, 8:50. 10H5 p. in.; .Mies aad Youngstown. 6:50 p. m.: Cleveland, d 5:50 a. in.. 2:20, 7-flOp. m.: Wheeling and Bellalre. 9:00a. ra.. 2:20. 7:JO p. m.: Erie sail Ashtabnla, 1:25. 10:15 p. m.: Alliance, 10aa.ia.t Mies and Jamestown, 9:10 . m.: Beaver Falls. 7:30a. m S 8B p. in.; Leetsdale. 10:40p.m. Abbitk ALLeohknt. from Enon. 8.00 . m.' Cnnwav6.4oa.m;Kocnester,9.40a,m.;BeaverlraUs, 7.10 a.m..S 12:30. l-.oo, 5.30 and s 3:15 p. m.: Leets dale, 4.30, 5.30, S.15, 6.50, 7.45 a. m.. 12.00, 12.45, 1.45, 3.30, 4.30. 6.30, 9.00 and 3 6:05 f. m.; Fair Oaks, S 8.55 a. m. d. dally; o. Sunday only: other trains, excess Sunday. JOSEf 11 WOOD. General Minager. K.A. F01CO. General X'assenger Agent. Address. Pittsburg, l'. HT4HUHI-r AND WESTEUN KAILWAT Trains (Ct'l Stan dtlme) Leave, j Arrive. .Mail. Bntler. Clarion. Kane. Day Ex.. Akron. Toledo Bntler Accommodation. ...... Greenville and Bntler Ex.... Chicago Express (dally) Zellenoplc Aecom 6:30 a ra 4:" p m 7:30 A m 7:30 p m 9:00 a m 11:20 a m 1:4 p m 3:35 p ra 2:15 p ra 11:C0 a in 4.-25 p ml 5:30 x m 3:10 p ml 79 a m Bntler Aecom. First das faro to Chicago, 110 50. Second class. JJ 50. Pullman Bullet sleeping car to Cbicaga STEAMERS AND EXCURSIONS. STATE LINE TO Glasgow.Londonderry, Belfast, Dublin, Liverpool & London. FKOM HEW YORK. EVEBY THURSDAY. Cabin Passace. 335 to 550, according to location o( stateroom. Excursion. 365 to $05. Steerage to and from Europe at Iowet rates. AIM BALDWIN & CO., General AzcntJ, 5J Broadway, New York. J. j. Mccormick. sel-l-D Azent at Pittsburg CUXARD LINE NEW YORK AND LIV ERPOOL. VIA QUEENbruWN-From Pier 40 North river: Fast express mail service. Servia, Nor. 1.8am ITJmbria. Nov. 22. 2 p m Etrnria, Nov. S. 2 p m hcrvia. Nor. 29. 7 a m Anranla, Not. 15, 7 a mjGallla, Dec. 3. 9-30 a m Bothnia, Not. 19. 10 a in Etrnria, Dec. fi, noon Cabin passage 860 and upward, avcordinc to location; intermediate. t5 Steeraee tickets to and Irom all parts oi Enrope at very low rates. For I reign t and passage apply to tbs companr office. 4 Bowling Green, New York. Vernon II. Brown 4 Co. J. J. McCOKMICK. UB and 40i Smithfleld treat. Pittsbnrz. oc27-o TTT-H1TE STAK LIN t KOlt QUKENSTOWN AND L1VEKPOOL, Royal ard United States Man Steamers. Britannic, Dec.17.9-.3Uam Britannic Jan. l4,d:S3aa 31aje,tlcl)cc.:4. 1 p uu'Celtlc, Jan. aipn Germanic. Uec3i,a:iuam,Oermautc.Jan.:3.7:30ata Adriatic Jan.7.3:XpniiAdriatIc. Feb. 4.1pm From Whit star dock, loot oi West Teeth si. Second cabin on these steamers. Saloon rates. (50 and upward. Second cabin. (35 and upward, it-cording to steamer and location of berth. Ex cursion tickets on lavorable terns, steetage. too. White star dralta payable on demand In all the principal banks throughout Ureat Britain. An- Sly to JOHN J. iiCCOiCMICK, 639 and 401 smith eld St.. Pittsburg, or J. BKliCE 1311AI. Gen eral Agent. 41 Uroadwar, New York. Je33-p CHARLESTON, 8. C THE SOUTH AND Southwest. Jacksonville, Fla and all lorida points, tbe Clyde Steamship Company, from pier 29 East River, New York, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at 3 P. if. Passenger accommodations and cuiine unsurpassed. WM. P. CLYDJ5 & CO Gen. Ajrents. 5 Bowline Green. N. Y. T. a. EOER. Gl. Agt, G. S. Frr. Line. 347 Broadway, N. Y. J.J. MCCORMICK, Ticket Acenr, KJ9 SniUMelU st, Pittsburg, Pa. ac4-TS AMERICAN LINE, Balling every 'Wednesday Irom Philadelphia and Liverpool. Passenger accommodations tor all classes nnsnrpaased. Tickets sold to and fcom Great Britain and Ireland. Norway. Swe den, Denmark, eta PITER WRIGHT & B0N8, General agents. 303 Walnut st, Philadelphia, Full information can be had of J. J. McCOB MICK, Fourth ayenue and Smithfleld street. LOUId MOESER. blS Smithfleld street mbS-ll-TTs NNESS LIQTOH HABIT. IX ILL T11E WORLD TBSEE IS BUTOXKCUEt DR. HAINES' GOLDEN SPECIFIC, It can be given In a enp of coffee or tea. or is articles of lood. without the knowledge of the pa tient, 11 necessary, it is absolutely harai'e" ana willcfleeta purmancntaad speedy cure, whether the patient Is a moderate drinker or an aicoholle wreck, ir NEVEi: yAIIJS. it operate so quietly an-t with such certainty that the patient undergoes no Inconvenience, and era he Is aware, his complete reformation Is effected. 48 page boot free, 'lo be had or S A.J. KANKIN, Sixth and Pean st., Plttsburgt E. HOLUEN A CO.. 63 Federal st. Allegheny, Trade supplied by GEO. A. KELiiY A CO.. Pitts hur-, Pa, ajU-V-TM V --..'-. 4
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers