TMs story was written by Wilkie CotHne wllaboration, with Charles Dickens. It is a story icHirfc hatt o» immediate success and is on* of the curiosities of literature <n that the careful end discerning reader oan discover at each stage of the progress of the story where Collins leaves off and Dickens begins. Both Wilkie ColUns and Charles Dickens had the spark of literary genius. )tut the spark of Dickens's genius im» so soon kindled into a fire that its flame polefl the more feeble one of Collins. The first part of the stnry— the ""itwrtw*," as Dickens. t rith his inclination for the stage, called it —ro s 1 criitrn entirely by the greater mao. Also Dickens irrote entirely wllot he teas pleased to call the "TMnf Act.'' The rest of the work «ni olmosf entirely the ioorlt of Wilkie Collins. Why tKr story should have been called "Kt> Thoroughfare" is a mystery. It teas li« name Dickens par* it and tokm Disk on* got a good name for a story he used Cf- -no matter to ichat sort of a story he attached It. Also the story 1 oos pubHehod as one of Christmas stories—though the word (Vrrtstmas does not appear it the tale nor is the groat Ohrist mas festival mentioned. When Dickens tmu on M* second visit to America the "Cote" Me. OolHns changed the whole story «w into a play—and a wry successful one, too. As a matter of fact the story ef So Thoroughfare" woe ok attempt on the part of Dickens to note* the public taste, and It had an idea that Collins oouM help him do it. JHrkens tod no* a rory high idea of the reading puttie — bat he caterer l te it. The "many headed" «Moh Thaokeray styles "This great, stupid public" was ne\<er a negligible qiiaeMi' 1 cith Mr. Dickens. He remembered alios) re the sting of M« early dove of poverty in the forking shop and Mssd appreciation. Its mid not say with Field ing, with the blood of the Hapsburgs in Ms tw(n», «iV» one oi Hi stories hod beoome popular. "Damn it! they hare found it out. roo." A'ltifr thsless, perhaps the Hapsburg vnu, <* Wi heart. as "tickled" at the reeeption of "Tom Jones" as <mi Dickens by the public approval which he openly solicited for his works. THE cloaks of London were striking 10. The night was fair, with light clouds. Near the gate of the Foundling Hospital a veiled woman flutters up and down. The gate of the Foundlings opens and a young woman comes out. TOe veiled woman follows her and at last touchea her upon the shoulder. The young woman looks around, startled, and says: "Why do Ton touch me? You touched me last night. Why do you follow me like a tfhost?" "You are one of the nurses at the hospital?" "Yes, I am Sally." "There's something about your face which makes me think that young children would take kindly to you." "They do, God bless them." The veiled woman lifts her veil and ■hows a face no older than Sally's as she says: "I am the miserable mother of a baby lately received under your care. I have a pray««r to make to you— what is the Mire they have given my boy? He was received last Monday evening—what have they called him?" Then she dropped on her knees In the mud of the street and held out her hands beseechingly. Sally •wias overcome with emotion, and at last, upon the woman swearing that she would never make any bad uss of the knowledge, Bally violated a rule of the hospital and •aid, "Walter Wilding." Then she contin ued: "But I can be of no use to you fur ther. for I am to be married soon and *h»ll leave the Foundlings. God be raer etful to you, poor lady." The two then separated forever. Twelve vaars Uter, on the flnst Sunday of Oatober, the Foundlings were at dinner »nd there were numerous lookers-on. as the custom is, of ofFdals and of people de sirous of adopting a child. The veiled lady of twelve years before was among the lookers-on; she had come to adopt a child. Talking with a female attendant sne aaked many questions and at las; said: "Which (a Walter Wilding?" "Against the roVes," replied the attendant. But sn• sees the Intense Interest in the face ot the woman who has asked the question, and it last says: "I will not tell you. But I will walk •found the tables. Follow me wfth your trf. The boy that I touch wtll be Walter Wilding. Say nothing more to me and move a little away." Thus It came about that Walter Wild ing, the foundling, was adopted By a wealthy lady, who brought him up as her son. Pn faoi, when he was a lrttle older, she confided to him that ha really was her son and that it was because of this that she had taken him from the Foundlings. T'pon the est of the story her lips were sealed, and the boy—who loved her de votedly as she loved him—never tried to pry further into her sorrowful past When Walter Wilding was 38 years old his beloved mother died, and he found himself possessed 0 f an ample fortune and the proprietor of the great house of Wilding A Co., wine merchants. Crlpiple Corner. All Cripple Corner belonged to Wildin* ft Co., wine merchants. Their cellars burrowed under it and their man sion towered above It. It really had been a mans'on In the days when merchants inhabited the olty, and was a most gloomy, respectable and imposing build ng still. Walter and his mother had lived there before her death, and now he lived there alone. "When * man at flve-and-twenty ran put hi* hat on and »ay. Thl« hat cover* the owner of thli property and the owur of the bu*lnee« transacted in thl* c-r>p »rty,' I eon*Wer, Mr, Ulntry, that, without b*ln< boftatful, he may be allowed to be deeply thankful. I do not know how It mar appear to jrou, but 10 It appear* to me," Thu* Mr, Walter Wtld na to hu man at law in hit own oountln# houn*. An lnaeoaot, unueed-lookin* mas w«u Mr. NO THOROUGHFARE a •«*». Iff WILKIE COLLIN/" AND CHARLE/ DICKENX ® Walter Wilding, with a remarlcable pink and white completion and a figure much too bulky for so young a man: with crispy brown hair and amiable blue eyes. Mr. Blntrey, on the contrary, was a cautious man with twinkling beads of eyes. "I think we have got everyth'ng straight." continued Walter, with a child ish enjoyment In the discussion of busi ness affairs. "Everything is straight," re plied the lawyer. "A partner secured and a housekeeper advertised for," said Wild ing. Then Walter disclosed to Mr. Blntrey a plan he had for having all his employes live, or at least take their meals, under that one roof—the house was b!g enough. He would have a sort of community settle ment, and they would all be taught music and Hinging and play together as well as work together. And from them should be established a choir In the neighboring chapel. Mr. Blntrey bowed and took an other glass of wine. Ecoentricitles on the part of wealthy clients he was accustomed to take as a matter of course. As soon as Mr. Blntrey was gone there came in old Joey Ladle, the ancient head cellarman of the house. A sort of dray horse man was Joey. Walter explained his plan for a happy family to him. "Don't look to me to do it, young Master Wild ing," said Joey mournfully, "not at my time of life. Many a time when they have said to me 'put a livelier face upon It, .Toey." T have replied, 'Gentlemen, ifs all very well for you that la accustomed to take your wine into your systems by the conwlvial channels of your throttles to put a lively far-e upon It, but.' I says, 'I have been accustomed to take my wine through the pores of my sk'n by reason of exist ing so long a time In them there mouldy wine vaults, where the vapors Is, and, taken in that way, It acts depressing," Walter soothed the always d'sgruntled but always faithful old fellow, and Joey agreed to "take a peck," as he called It, at the common table —but Join In any sing ing class he would not. "And you are a golng to take young Master George Ven dale Into partnership, I hear," said Joey. "I am." "Well and good. But ' don't change the name again. It wa« risky, mighty r'sky. when you changed the old firm name of Pebbleson Nephew to Your self Xr Co. Good luck always stuck to Pebbleson Nephew. You should never change luck when It's good." "I have no Intention of changing the firm name again," said Walter—and Joey, with a sigh and mournful shako of the head, ■withdrew to his dreary, moldy, damp ■wine vaults In the depths of the earth. From the many applicants for the posi tion of housekeeper Wilding selected a Mrs. Sarah Goldstraw She was a woman of pernaps 60 and looked e\ en younger, with a face remarkbh'n for placid cheer fulness. She was a widow of some years' standing. She hsd ':T«d as housekeeper with only one person «Inc« her husband's decease—a widow 1 ft/1 v wh- bad recently died. She, ,lnd, the bqst of references. When the Housekeeper af;e- her arrival went to the dinlhg room t.i receive in structions from her master Walter paused in giving them to say: "There is some thing about your manner. Mrs. Goldstraw, which Is familiar. What oan It be?" Mrs. Goldstraw's e>es were fixed In won der upon a picture <*f Walter's mother which hung over tha mantelpiece, and she repeated, as If In a dream. "What can It he?" "My mother when she was five and twenty," said Walter proudly. "A very beautiful woman." "Excuse me," said Walter, "hut did you ever occupy any other situation than thut of hor«ekeeper?" "Yes: before my mairHge I wfw a nurse In a foundling asylum." "That's It! that's it!" cried Wa'ter; "their manner Is the manner you remind me of." Then he went on to tell, In his frank and voluble way, the story of his life rs far as he knew It. The housekeeper lis tened 'n evident distress of mind, espe cially when he told how one of the at tendants had Identified him by touching him on tho shoulder «o that his mother should know Mm. Finally she sat looking at him with a face as pale as death and an expression of unutterable dismay. "What does thlß mean?" said Walter. "Tell me. There Is something I ought to know and do not know Tell me!" With tears and lamentations that she should have been, although Innocently, the cause or a terrible mistake, Sally tolfl her story. For Mrs. Sarah Gold straw was that Sal!j- whom we first saw on the night she was touched by the veiled lady upon Issuing from the Found - 11n«: Hospital Shortly after Sally had told the veiled lady the name of her child there came to the foundlings' institu tion !n the country another lady who wished to adopt one of the children. She adopted and took away with her the boy called Walter Wilding. "The child of the lady whose portrait hangs here." said Sally. Soon after there was another in fant boy to be named, and the name Walter Wilding having been scratched off the books of th» 'nstltutlon that name was given to another hoy. Sally then left the Inet'tutlon to be married. It was the second Walter Wilding who had been touched on the shoulder by the attendant and been adopted as her own sor. by Walter's supposed mother. Saily knew nothing of the woman who had adopted the true Walter Wilding and only remembered that she had said: "Tha child will be brought up In a milder ollma/te than this. I am going to tak-> him to Switzerland. Walter felt the room swim before him—"My head! my head!'' be cried out and became half uncon scious, The alarmed housekeeper at length re *tor«d him to hlmeelf with a ffl&ia of wine ar.<l by bathln* hi* head with water "Why »hould you dl»tre*« yourself?" *ald she, "ha may not bo now alive and oan nut be In want, for the woman who adopted him wan evidently a woman of wealth, you truly loved the woman whone portrait hung* there a* your mothw and «b« loved you a* her »nn," "Ah, It 1* because I did love her that I feel l( a aaored duty to do justice to her son; leave me for a little while Mrs. Goldstraw." . George Vecdaie, Walter's new partner, came in and Walter, after sending for Mr. Blntrey, told them the whole story. To all their objections Walter only answered that he must at once begin inquiries and if he could find the true Walter Wilding he would hand over to him his property. In case he could not he then and there or dered Mr. Blntrey to draw up a will by which he left to Blntrey and Vendale all his property to be held by them for two years In trust for the true Walter, should he appear. Should he not be found at the expiration of two years then, after Wal ter's death, the estate would go to the Foundling Hospital. Even while Walter had been talking with Vendale and the lawyer a letter bearing a Swiss postmark had been handed In by a clerk. The coincidence, as Walter thought of a Swiss postmark and what Sally had told him of the true Walter being taken to Switzerland still further agitated the wine merchant. The letter was only a formal one from a champagne house of Neuohatel, with which the firm dealt, In forming them that they had made M.Jules Obenreizer their agent in London. Mrv Vendale. the new partner, would know M. Obonrelzer, as he had met him when trav eling In Switzerland. "Oh. yes," said Ven dale, slightly agitated In his turn, "he was traveling with his niece—Obenreizer was. This is duly signed by the house of Du freniler. Very well, I will make It a point to see this M. Obenrelzer." "Walter's attempt to find the true Wal ter resulted only In this: that on March 8. 1836, there had been adopted and re moved from the hospital a male infant named Walter Wilding. Mrs. Jane Mil ler, a widow, hnci adopted him. Address. Lime Tree Lodge, Groombrldge Wells. References, the Hey. John llarker, Groombrldge Wells and Messrs. Giles. Jeremle & Giles, bankers, Lombard street. He went to the bankers and found that the account of Mrs. Miller had been closed for years and nothing was known of her. fie Journeyed to Groombrldge Wells and found that the Rev. John Harker had been eaten up hy cannlba.s years and years ago when he was serving as a missionary In the South Sea Islands. Lime Tree Lodge had been torn down ten years before and nobody knew anything about the Mrs. MHler who had been a temporary lessee. He had reached a "No thoroughfare" stage of his Journey. There was nothing further to be done. He want back to London de feated at all points While Walter was pursuing these In vestigations his partner, George Vendale, had been almost. If not quite, as anxious ly pursuing his Investigations In the region of Soho, where dwelt a curious colony of transplanted Swiss moun taineers and where M. Obonrelser had his dwelling and his office. Hverythlng was Swiss about the district and It was Into a Swiss Interior, with Its tiled stove and Its ourlous clocks and vases of art!- flolal flowers, that George was ushered when he sent In his card, George stood looking at the mlmle water dripping from a mlmlo mill-wheel under th« oloek HIS ROOT 9!,IFPEI>—HE WAS OVER A PRECIPICE. after the servant had ushered him In when M. Obenreizer at his elbow startled him by saying in very good English, very slightly clipped: "How do you do? So glad." (At the same time slightly pin ning him at the elbows by way of em brace.! "Sit please." "Is it not odd," said George, "that I should come to you here in London as one of the firm of Wilding & Co. to pay my re«peots to you?" t "Not at all," re turned Obenreizer. "What did I always say to you in the mountains? We call them vast, but the world is so little! So little is the world that one cannot get rid of a person. Not"—touching his elbows again with an Ingratiatory smile—"that one would desire to get rid of you." "I hope not, M. Obenrelzer." "Pray call me Mister. I call myself so—for I love your country. Oh, If I could only be English!" And so they talked on. Obenrelzer des canting at great length upon the fact that he himself was the son of a poor peasant and Vendale the son of a fitutle man. There was no detail o? his early and squalid life that Obenreizer did not bring out in its most glaring and fre quently loathsome details and contrast It with some detail of the eai iy life of Ven dale. "1 told you of most of this that day we were floating on tile iake," said the Swis«>, "and you told me nf the lux uries which surrounded your early youth. Ah, what a condescension It Is for one of your family to go Into trade! Stop, t.iough —wines? Is it a trade ! n England, or a profession, or a fine art?" George, rather put out of countenance, replied that when h# had met Mr. Oben relzer In Switzerland some years before he had been young and foolish. That he feared he had boasted, as most young men will, of his family. He was a silly fel low, just of age. And then suddenly: "1 hope your nlec-e, mademoiselle, is well?" "Well," replied Obenreizer, "and for her sake, ] believe, you were once in some slight danger when we were mountain climbing." Mr. Obenreizer had a. singular faculty of sending at limes a sort of film over his eyes which would Impenetrably veil not only from those tellers of tales but from h. s whole face every expression except t'.iat of attention. Thai fiim came over them now. "Tour niece is !n London?" "She is In London." "When and where may I have the pleasure of recalling my self to her?" The film vanished and Oben reizer said In a frank manner, "Come up stairs." They went upstairs, and there sat the giri who, ever since he had res cued her from the glacier, ever since he had floated with her upon the lake, had been In his thoughts and In his heart- Marguerite Obenreizer. There was an elderly lady seated by the stove cleaning gloves, of which 'ahe had her lap full. She hud one glove stretched over one hand like a glover's sign. She was Introduced to Vendixle as Mme. Dor, "who la so kind us to keep me from tear or »taln." Mme, Dor half got up, looked over her shoulder and plumped down **aln, rubbing vigorously at A particular ly tough spot, It would apper.r, In M. Obenteltstr's plov*. Marguerite wa-i u«:«d by the window busy with an embroUUrw frame. She greeted her old acquaintance with Just a little of shyness, yet with a charming self-possession. She had an un usual quantity of fair, bright hair, very prettily braided about a rather round white, broad forehead. And so her face might have been, say, a shade rounder than the average English face, and her figure slightly rounder than the avera ;e English girl of 19. A remarkable Indica tion of freedom and grace of limb In her quiet attitude, and a wonderful purity and freshness of color In her dimpled face and bright gray eyes seemed fraught with mountain air. j Thus did George Vendale renew his ao ! qualntance with M. and Mile. Obenreizer. ; "An impossible name—Obenreizer," said : Walter Wilding. But George did not think | so—he rather 1 ked the sound of It. Van j dale became a constant visitor at the ! Obenreizer establishment, and Induced I Wilding to Invite Marguerite, her fa.her | and Mme. Dor to dinner at Cripple Cor ner. Walter tvad established his com | niunity household and singing school, and | after dinner Marguerite played and sang ; d vlnely. At least so thought George, and that soured and crabbed old cellarer. Joey Joey becaine—in a far off, gruff way—as much devoted to Marguerite as was George. And Joey saw at once how the land lay and resolved that come what might George and Marguerite should be married. Old Obenre zcr he Instinctively feared and hated. As for Walter Wilding, this earth v.-as to have little more of Joy or sorrow for him. He had for years been subject to a sort of epilepsy, and the dis closures of .Sally and his subsequent fail ure to find the true Walter—his real zaitlon all the time that he wa» In a state of No Thoroughfare, preyed upon him. and after a few 'months he took to his bed and died. And so exit Walter Wilding of Wilding &■ C*. George Venda'c continued the wine bust ae.se. Ho and Mr Binirey qqietly carried on a search for the true Walter \Vi'din„, as they htj promised their deaj partner and friend they would. Venda e carried on also the comnurclstc tcheme whloß liad been devised by Walter, and probably not the lean willingly because of the tact that the propose! choir had been M ID ltshed in the ne.ghbnrln#: chapel and that Marguerite had volunteered as orte of the choristers. Ge->r*e was a constant v'jrltcr at the ObenrelzerV house, but could neve: get an opportunity of seeing Msrguerite alone. At last the day came when Mme. Dor went to sle*-> over her knltt.ng and. the dragon belntf <-ff guard. Geirge fad what he had been waiting so long to say. Suffice i: *ha: when madame woke up with a start Georg*. knew th?! Ma-gve r'.te returned his love. Now he made a visit of firm upon Obenrelzer. "W.iat!" said Ober.rs'ier, "you have made a pro posal to my nle.'e without flr»: asking riy authority -o pav your addresses to ftfr/ How can /ou juitfy this?" He struck hla hand acainit the table and lo«' hi* h<M<J of himself for the first .lrr.e In Ve-- da'e's expe.-'ense of h'm. "I can only ju«- tlfy !t &• one of our English Institution*— you adm!-e the English institutions," The result of a ion# talk, beg;nn.r.g acrimoniously and ending suavely, was that the a wlss mft-chant gave feeorge a written agreement that when Ve-diie's Income sho\ild amount to £3.000 a year all objections on Obfn:e!zer's part to tne proposed marriage would be withdrawn, in the meantime, George was to see Mar guerite—guarded by Maie Dor—upon cer tain days. When George took hold of his business the next morning It had a different face for him—Marguerite had a place in It now. He set the wheels of commerce spinning and saw his way clear—as ho thought. Then came a letter from De fresnler & Co., the Neuchate] wine people, in which It was made apparent that they had not been paid for their lant consign ment. George looked up his receipts and found that he held one from that firm for the said consignment. The result of some further correspondence was that the Neu chatel firm wrote George that the money sent by him had unquestionably been stolen In transit and the receipt had been forged. The matter, they said, was one of vital Importance to both houses, though, ap parently of trifling importance. They begged that George would tell no one but send, by a trueted messenger, the receipt In question—not even trusting it to the post. In the meantime George had incautiously —being In love—let escape from him to Obenreizer the fact that there was some trouble about a receipted bill due to the Neuchatel Arm. "Surely," thought George, "they cannot mean that T should conceal entirely from Obemelzer, their trusted agent, the fact that something Is wrong." Still he managed to prevent h'mself from being "pumped" further hy hl« prospective uncle-In-iaw. Net being able to decide upon a really trustworthy messenger, Vendale decided to go himself to Neu chatel. "What, golr.g to Switzerland!" cried Obenrelzer, "how fortunate. T am on a Journey there myself. We will travel to gether.'' It was a sacrifice for Vendale to leave his business and a greater sacrifice to leave Marguerite. But a matter of five hundred pounds was Involved, and did he not want to get rich as quickly as he could? When Vendale took leave of Mar guerite her last words to him were, "I>on't go." Of course It is one of those obvious things of really good Action, which does not entirely depend upon unforeseen de nouements, that Obenrelzer himself was the man who had forged the receipt. That the foolish boasting of young Vendale when he had met him in Switzerland had aroused in Obenrelzer a hatred for George. And, more than that, Oben relzer loved only one person In the world except himself, and that was his niece. When he saw that George had come between him and his •ilece—that she no longer looked to her uncle with that implicit faith and confl uence with which she had heretofore, his rege against Vendale was redoubled. He hated the yiung man anyway, and, In addition, held that resentment which every parent—for Obenrelzer looked upon Mar guerite as his daughter—feels when some body comes to claim them for their own, dlvid'ng affe tlons and severing ties never :nore to bo reun'ted ent'rely. Obenre zer had given his consent to the marriage of Marguerite and George when Vendale's income sht uld have reached a certain amount. He had resolved that the young man never should obtain that amount of Income He had laid a plan by which he thought he could ruin Ven dale and at the same time enrich him *•!'. But for the mis'ake of the Noucha ;el firm in ship: 'ng some red wne in place of chamna ne which opened up a direct correspondence between the Neueha tcl house and Wilding & Co. and led to the forced rece pt bus ness, the plot would not have been discovered. Three months : more would have seen it In full operation and Veridale would have been ruined. Tt was a complicated plot, .skillfully thought out, fhe details of wh'ch can not be told ! lti a short space. 9ufHce it that Obenrelzer, comprehend ing at once from the incautious words of George that his plot had failed and that he himself was In danger, accompanied George to Switzerland with the sole pur pose of getting from him the forged re ceipt—and if necessary killing him ro get it. Perhaps he would kill him anyway— If he could do so safely, he thought. "Where shall I rob him if I can? Where shall I mnrder him if ! must?" was the constant thought of Obenreizer ' on the journey. He knew that George carried the Incriminating papers in an inner breast pocket. Several times he tried to drug him and rob him—once or twice ar ranged tor murder—but failed. At last the two came to Neuehatel and found that the senior member of the firm—the man whom George must see—was In M lan. It was winter and the pass.nre of the Alps was so dangnrous that th"> guides refused to take the,traveler.-; across in the j weather then prevailing. But Obenrclzer declared that the guides w re cowards he was born In he mountains, knew the passes, and since George Insisted upon go ing at once to M'lan. why he himself would guide him through. He brought V«ndale to a remote and wild snow-cov ered pass where impending avalanche* j hung ready to tumble abou- their heads. . Obfnrelzer urged hlrh to take a drink of brandy from his flask George lid so and at once felt that the brandy wi.« dragged. I In his half-conscious condl ion Obenrelzcr fiercely attacked him. George tr'ed to strvggle ana to keep his companion from tearing from him the papdr* His foot nipped-—he wan over npr clpice. The mountain st-rm riged and pars-d «galn, Two men n-1 two iar*e d "?s ec.me out of a hospice One of the men raid to [the other, "We may venture now." The I I wo dig* Innlc-d Into the faeeii of the men and then, turning their muzzles down the pass, broke Into a deen bay and bound< away. "Two more mad ones," said one the men The two other mad one? h: been Oeorge and Obenrelzer, who had v«i tured forth in tlie face of the storr They found a young woman struggllr througli the snow .md with her a large, t derly man. The yoiig woman spoke th« own language. She was Marguerite ai the large man with her was the faithf Joey Ladle. After the departure of Obenrelier at Vcndale from London Marguerite's appr hensions had so grown upon her that si took counse. with the faithful cellarer at It was decided that the two should at on set out in pursuit of the travelers and, 1 their presence, foil the plot which thi were sure Obenre'.zer had laid again Oeorge. They had traced them to Ne chatel and from there to the hospice. Ma guerite, a daughter of the mountains, ha In spite of the inclement weather, less d! Acuity In traveling than old Joey, wh unused to mountain altitudes, took eve step with pain. From the men who hi come from the hospice with the dogs thi 'earned that the two travelers they soug had gone on and the men, fearing f the'r safety, were now setting out search of them. They found the place where the strut?* between Obenre'zer and Verdale had taVi place—the trampled snow told the ta Looking over the edge of the precip!< they saw the apparently dead body George hang'ng upon a projecting point Ice and snow. Marguerite Insisted upi being lowered down to where the boi lay. This was done and. while one of t men ran back 'o the hospice for anoth rope she warmed the Inanimate form her lover In her arms and forced hetwei his lips some revving drops of brand call'ne out to those above that he «t lived. Finally they drew up both Genr and Margtier'te safely ta the roadway the pass. Rut when they had got Geor up there wa< scarcely a flutter to 1 heart and It was reported In the near? town the next day that the Knglish t>-a ler who hid fallen over the precipice w dead. . Obenrelzer returned to Neuohatel ai made loud lamentations over the fatal a cldent which had deprived him forever the companionship of his beloved frlei and protective nephew. But the firm Defrosnier thought the whole matter hi an ugly look and discharged him. Ms guerite refused to return to him and. wl Madame Dor, took refuge with Mr Bl trey. Obenrelzer, at Neuehatcl. asked e: ployment of a former friend of his, a la yer named Volgt. While there he d covered In one of the lawyer's old boxj some papers which made it certain th George Vend ale was th" true Walter Wll ItiK. But before he could put his know edpe to any harmful i.se there came Neucliatel Mr. Bintrev and had a few en fldential words with Maltre Volgt. T1 old lawyer opened hl« eyes wide with su priso and looked at Obenrelzer with «ul oi's expression "when he next saw him. A few days after, .it the foot of t Simnlon on the Swiss side, in a drea little inn in the 'mill village of Rr« Maitrle Voigt and Mr. Bintrey sat t gether in consultation. The door ODPI and Obenrelzer came in. "For what rf son have I been brought from Neucha' to the foot of these mountains?" he askt Mr Bintrey mentioned the question Marertier'te'n guardianship. Obenreizer s8 there could be no com promise—he w determ'ne«J that his ward should be i 'tored to him "Ldstea to me." sai.l Bi trey, and he recounted all that had ha rened "ince Obenreizer and George h le't London together. "Bah." said Obe rclzer, "do not think to frighten me wi your child's story." "It is not a chili tale I am telling you," replied Blntri "This Is a trap which I have set for v and into which you have-walked. You ha' attempted tr.iirder and you have commit* forgery and theft. We have the eviden against you in both ca^es." Obenreizer was convinced that Bintr spoke tile truth. The lawyer produced paper and said: "If you will «l~ n tl paper releasing all clalme to the guardla ship of Miss Obenreizer we will give y :ii return an Indemnity which secures yi asrainst further proceedings on our pa But you must never be seen in I.ondi or Switzerland again." Obenreizer toi the pen and signed hi* naine with a fir hand. The door opened and In came Ma guerite and George—who. of course, w not dead. The shock of seeing alive tl man whom he had supposed he had kllli was too grea: for even Obenreizer to stai without a nervous shudder. He stared at the two blankly for a ml ute, and then Raid: "Ah, I «ee it was i deed a trap But I have eometh'ng s ay." And then he told of the papers the strong box of Maltre Voigt. papers which he had made copies, which prov that George Vendaie was the true Walt Wilding. "So,' said he. "If my niece ma rrt this man flip marries a bastar brought up on public charity. She ma r.cs an impostor without name or Uncap disguised in the character of a gentlem; of rank and family." The words of Obenreizer, howev< were scarcely heard by George: he w conscious of but one sensation, heard b one voice. Marguerite's hand was In h and Marguerite's voice was whlsperi! to him: "T never loved you George as love you now." They were married the little town of Brieg and the simp villagers made ho.lday and put up grei arches In their honor As the wedd i procession wi' returning from the ehuri to the Inn there came out of a side atre another process'on—men hearing a tltt on which lt»y a doad body. It was tl body of Ohonrezer In attempting cross tie fllr.iplon an avalanche hi fallen upon and killed him
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers