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