! 1.4 vol. s.-mn. BI S. B. ROW, CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 13, 1859. ALL THATS BEIGHT MUST FADE. All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest; Stars that shine and fall. The flower that droops in springing ; These, a'as, are types of all t To which our hearts are clinging. Who would seek to prize Delights that end in aching? Who would trust to ties That every hour are breaking? Better far to be . In outer darkness lying, Than be blest with light, and see That light forever flying. LADY GUILFOET. A TALE OP TEfinorU The following story is derived lroru the au thentic work of M. Peuchet, Les Archives de la Police de Paris. The period to which the nar rative rclers is that of the reign of Louis XIV. Monsieur de la Regnie had filled for several years, to the general satisfaction, the func tions of Lieutenant-General of Police, when, on a sudden, terror spread itself through Pa ris in consequence of the extraordinary disap . carance of several persons. In the course of four rnonths.twenty-sixyoung men, the young est seventeen, and the oldest twenty-five years of age, had been spirited away from their in consolable families. The most extravagant and contradictory rumors were in circulation upon the subject, particularly in the Faubourg St. Antoine, which had to deplore the loss of lour or five young men, the sons of rich and respectable upholsterers residing in that quar ter of the citj'. Among other gossiping sto ries whispered about upon this subject, it was pretended that a princess, who was suffering from a dangerous liver complaint, had been advised by some foreign charlatan or quack doctor, to make use from time to time, as a means of cure, of a bath of human blood, and that the unfortunate missing persons had been immolated for the purpose. Another equally horrible surmise was, that they had been made away with by the Jews, who, out of hatred and derision of the crucified Messiah, were accus tomed to put Christians to death upon the Cross. Fortunately for the poor Jews, this latter opinion took no hold of the public mind. Whatever the secret cause of these disap pearances might have been, terror and desola tion reigned in Paris. The Duke de Gevres liaving mentioned the facts to the King, his Majesty sent for the Lieutenant-General of Police, and reproached him with suffering the xistence of such a system of kidnapping, -which, in all likelihood, he added, must have been followed by violent deaths, as none of those missing had ever been heard of after vrards. Monsieur de la Regnie, in despair at the displeasure of his Majesty, returned in very bad humor to Paris, and sent immediate ly for one ol his most experienced agents, named Lecoq, a man whose services on many difficult occasions he bad good reason to value. To him be made known (he embarrassment in which he found himself, told him of the king's a iswer, and held out to bim the prospect of so great a reward that Lecoq, carried away by bis cupidity, exclaimed, "Ah, monsigneur ! I see that, in order to take foa out of trouble, I must renew the sacrifice of Abraham. I ask you to allow me eight days, in which time I hope to give you a good account of the af fair." Lecoq said no more ; and Monsieur de la Regnie, who looked upon him as his best agent, dismissed him with a sign which gave l.im to understand that he had at his disposal all the resources of the police. At that time it was the custom in the police department to make use of mute signs on extraordinary oc casions of this kind, the meaning of which was known only to the principal and most con fidential agents. Lecoq, who was not married, had a natural son, to whom he was greatly attached, and o ver whose conduct and education be carefully watched. This lad, called by his companions L'Evei!le,from the precociousncssand spright liness of his disposition, was gifted with no common intelligence. Though little more than sixteen years of age, nature had not only given him reason beyond his years, but had also been prodigal to him of external gilts. YouDg Lecoq, besides possessing a handsome face, was tall, and so well and strongly formed, that he looked more like a man of five-and-twenty than a youth of sixteen. L'Eveille, whose real name was Exupere, obtained from tiis father all that could flatter the vanity of a young man ; for bis handsome person was al ways set off by costly and modish clothes, lie, however, quitted the house but seldom, for the elder Lecoq knew but too well the dan ger to which handsome young men like his on were exposed in the streets of Paris ; and on the rare occasions when Exupere was al lowed to go abroad, he was always accompa nied by one or the other of the police spies whom his father had at bis back. Lecoq, on returning from his interview with Monsieur de la Reguie, shut himself up with his son, and had a long conversation with him. In the afternoon of that day, Exupere was seen quitting the house alone, and splendidly dressed. Around his hat and suspended from his neck were gold chains ; he wore two watches; and, from the chinking of his purse as be walked, it was evident that it was filled with good broad pieces of gold coin. But what still more surprised the neighbors (for the profession of the elder Lecoq was unknown to them,) was to see tho handsome and finely dressed L'Eveille go and return home several times during four consecutive days, without being accompanied, as had always been the case'beloro, by his uncle (in reality his fath er ) or some friend. It has been already sta ted that L'Eveille, besides the remarkable comeliness of his face and person, was endow ed with a lively intellect, courage, prudence, and fare. The confidential conversa tion he had with his father bad awakened bis ambition; and he easily understood that he might acquire both honor and profit should he succeed in discovering, for the Lientenant - General ol Police, the canso of the extraordi nary disappearance of so many young persons. Accordingly, In the rich dress befitting a young man ol family, he walked about the streets, on the quays, in the gardens ol the Tuileries and Luxembourg, and in the Salle dea Paa Perdus at the Palaise da Justice, and in the galleries of that vast edifice, then a favorite haunt or the gay and idle among iuo Parisian!. Lecoq the elder had conjectured that the vounir men who bad disappeared bad been ensnared to their ruin by the seductive charms of some frail beauty ; aud he foresaw that, by putting his son in the way to meet such a creature, he exposed bim likewise to a similar late ; but, reckoning upon his being forewarn ed, he hoped he might escape the snare that had been fatal to so many others. The fifth day, towards three o'clock in the afternoon, young Lecoq, in all the eclat of his fine clothes, was sauntering on the terrace of the garden of the Tuileries next the liver, when a remarkably beautiful young woman passed close by him. She was walking alone, but was followed at some distance by a kind of humble friend, or gouvemante. She appear ed to be about 25 years of ago, was elegantly dressed, and bad not only much beauty in her face and shape, but a certain foreign grace or piquancy in her air and manner. L'Eveille gazed, or pretended to gaze, with great inter est upon the fine form and striking features of the unknown fair one. His glances were not thrown away, but were answered by timid and half-downcast looks. He drew himself up, arranged the frill of bis shirt, disposed in better order his lace rutlles in a word, gave himself the airs of a man who had the presen timent of an adventure, hoping all the time that it was that for which he had his instruc tions already. To make sure of this, he pass ed and repassed several times before the lady, and at length took a seat upon one of the benches of the labyrinth which then existed in front of the Champs Elysees. Ee had not been there many minutes when he saw the friend, or tuivanle, of his beautv approach the spot where he was, and, after a lew;turns, seaUj herself on the same bench. lie took oft his hat, as was the custom, and soon after entered into conversation; and, thinking the game already in his hands, he asked the svitanie who the young lady was in whose service she appeared to be. "Oh, Sir," replied she, "the history of my mistress is almost a romance." "A romance!" exclaimed L'Eveille, "you in terest me deeply; probably your mistress is ." "Yes," replied the suivante, in a confidential tone, "you have guessed right ; she is that interesting young person, of whom all Paris is still talking ; and, since you have so readily chanced upon her name, I will no longer conceal from you her history. 1 ou must know, my dear sir, that the father of my mistress was a rich Polish prince, who came to Paris incognito, and whilst there formed a connection with the daughter of a tradesman in the Rue St. Denis ; a child (my mistress) was the result of this intercourse. The princa quitted Paris, and never returned. It was said that he had been set upon by brigands and murdered. The King of Poland, however, having been made acquainted with the unwor thy conduct of the prince, wished to repair, as far as in him lay, the evil he had done ; and, for that purpose, sent a confidential Agent to Paris. But, alas ! before his arrival the moth er of my mistress bad died of a broken heart, and he found her infant orphan alone in the world. The King of Polaud, on being inform ed of the circumstances, caused the child to be declared heiress of the vast wealth of the Prince. Happy the man who shall call her his own!" "Happy, indeed!" exclaimed L'Eveille, "the man who could entertain even a hope of pleasing her," at the same time heaving a deep sigh. "Ah, young man, to please, you must sometimes dare " "To do what" asked L'Eveille. "How should I know ? to be amiable." "And how is that to be done?" "Oh, you question me too closely ; and, for an intelligent youth, as you appear to be, you ask singular questions. A dieu, monsieur." "One word more," cried L'Eveille ; one word more, I conjure you." Therane,who had risen, sat down again. It was now L'E veille's turn to speak ; and he told the old wo man, with as much apparent ingenuousness as he could muster up, that he was the son of a wealthy physician of Mans, and that he had been sent to Paris to attend the course of lec tures at the university ; and added, "Here I have been for the last ten days, and, as you see not ill provided ; for my father is generous, having no other child but me ; and, besides watches, chains, and rings, I have two hundred pistoles in my purse, and leisure and disposi tion to devote myself to the task of pleasing so charming a person as your mistress." The old sorceress chuckled ana smuca, wun a mingled expression of pleasure and contemp tuous pity. She then took L'Eveille by the hand, and said, "You have entirely won my heart, and I feel a kind of motherly affection for you, of which 1 will give you proof. List en to me. You have not escaped my mistress' notice. She was struck with your person and manners, and desired me to find out who you were. I am charmed that her choice should have fallen on one so worthy of her. Station yourself, this evening, a little before nightfall, in front of tho principal door of the church of St. Germain 1' Auxerrois. I will meet you there, and bring you, I have no doubt, good tidings. Take care to come well dressed, and with all your finery ; for it might spoil all were you to appear before my mistress in the guise of a threadbare-coated, pennyless student." This point being settled they separated. L'Eveille, in his joy, scarcely touched the ground along which he hurried home, as he felt convinced that he had discovered the de coy that had lured so many young men to their ruin. On acquainting his rather with what had taken place, Lecoq shared in the suspicions and hopes of his son ; but, as the hour of trial drew nigh, paternal tenderness filled his heart with fear, and he trembled at the danger the youn" man was about to encounter. Howev er iuordcr to diminish that danger as much as'possi ble.be summoned a number of his most trusty police agents, to whom he briefly ex plained the nature of the service, and recom mended them to keep close to his son, with out, however, compromising, by their too near approach, the success of the coup de main he was about to attempt, ne himself was to walk a short distance before them, resolved that, as far as in him lay, the expedition should not fail. A little before nightfall L'Eveille, still more richly dressed than in the morning, pro ceeded to the place appointed. The church doors were about being closed when an old wo man meanly clad, and with ber face nearly concealed under a hood, emerged from tho church, and after throwing a furtive glance a bout ber, recognized L'Eveille, and made a sien to approach her. "I should never have known you!" cried L'Eveille. "Whata strange Xe Jou have made of yourself?" "Oh it is a necessary precaution, my son, in, order, to escape the eyes of the numerous- adorers of mTmUtress, who, hoping to gain me to their interest, beset me whenever they see me in he Sets. Good gracious! these puppies ine around our house as bees are ZSZl " dhurry on; but first put this bandage on your eyes. This is a delicate attention shown by our Parisian gallants to their mistresses, and with which I know Ma demoiselle Jeborouski (for so my mistress is called) will be not a little pleased, and will re ward you lor it." "No, by my faith," replied L'Eveille, "I shall not bandage my eyes. My lather expressly forbid me ever to do so." "Well, then, let us proceed," said the woman, "without it, since your papa has forbidden yon. I shall explain that to mademoiselle." They walked forward, the old woman a few paces in advance of L'Eveille, and the police agents following at a cautious distance. They traversed the Rue de l'Arbesec, de la Monnaie, and after various windings, those of Betezy, Lavandieres, Mauvaises Paroles, Deux Boules, Jean Lambert, and at length stopped in the Rue des Orfevres, not the least hideous street of that infeeted and black mud-covered quar ter of Paris. There near the chapel of St. Elio, and opposite a tolerably good looking house, the old woman halted, and said "my dear sir, my mistress docs not reside in this poor place, but the house belongs to her, and it was ber. wish to receive jou here first. I shall go up and let her know yon are here." The old demoness entered the house, leav ing L'Eveille at the door. His father to en courage Liai though he trembled himself crossed the street and squeezed his hand, lie had scarcely moved away when the old woman reappeared, and after again endeavoring, but in vain, to perjnade L'Eveille to let Lis eyes be bandaged, conducted him into the fatal house. L'Eveille, though armed, felt no little misgiv ings and fears of being attacked as he follow ed his faithless gnide in ntter darkness through a long passage and up some flights of stairs. However, he met no obstacles of the kind, and was, after some time, ushered into a room light ed with wax tapers and richly furnished. At one end of the room, npon a crimson-colored sofa, fringed with gold lace, reclined, in a most seductive dishabille, tho daughter ot the Po lish prince, Mademoiselle Jaborouski. At the sight of the stranger, her hand sparkled with brilliants, (no doubt from the Polish mines,) readjusted over her half disclosed bosom the two open folds of her robe, and after saluting her visitor with an encouraging smile, she made a signal to her duenna to retire. The young man forgetful for the moment of the object of his mission, felt as if under the spell of enchantment, and fascinated by the beautiful person before him, he bad scarcely power to speak or move. She, seeing his em bankment, arose from the sofa and held out ber Land which he eagerly seized and kissed. This but served to put more completely to flight his presence of mind ; and, though con scious of the infamous and dangerous nature of the .place where he was, he could not resist taking a seat on the sofa near so charming an object. , So. that it might have been said of him that, be bad completely fallen into the power of her whom he had come to surprise, and deliver into the hand of justice. The elder Lecoq, who with the police agents were impatiently waiting in the street, not hearing thesignal agreed upon with his son, put a whistle to his mouth, and blew it loudly. The shrill sound reached the ears of young Le coq, and put his illusions instantly to flight, lie started from the sofa, and the siren under whose fascinations be had been, under pre tence of giving directions to her old suivante, went into an adjoining chamber. L'Eveille, profiting by her absence, made an inspection of the room, in one corner of which stood what apperaed to be a kind of Indian screen. Wish ing to see what was behind this, he endeavor ed to close up its folds, but finding them im movable, he shook them with some violence, when he heard a click.liko that of a spring giv ing way, and one of the fold9 descended into the floor, and left unmasked a deep and ample recess or cupboard, upon the shelves of which were rangad twenty-six silver dishes, and in each a human bead, the flesh of which had been preserved by some embalming process. A stifled cry of horror burst from the youth's lips, which, but a moment before had been breathing the accents of admiration and pas sion. But his agony of terror was still far ther increased, when looking toward one of the windows of the room, he thought he saw several other cadaverous faces fixing upon him through the panes their glazed but fiery glan ces. He grasped at the back of a chair, to keep from falling, bis hair stood on end, drops of cool perspiration covered his forehead, his cheeks became paler and more livid than the faces of the dead that confronted him, and his nerves at length giving way, he sank upon his knees, and clasped his hands in a delirium of terror and despair. At this moment the window was burst in, and bis father, followed by the police agents, jumped into the apartment, for the elder Lecoq, alarmed by the silence of his son, and dreading that be might be assassinated, had bravely mounted to the assault of the hou3e, which be was enabled to do by means of lad ders, which tho agents procured from a neigh boring house-builder's yard. This fortunate and daring act of Lecoq's did in fact save his son's life for immediately after the noise made by Lecoq and his police agents breaking into the apartment, Madamoiselle Jabrouski, fol lowed by four armed ruffians, rushed from the adjoining chamber ; but the police agents be ing inperior in number, and equally well armed, resistance was in vain, and the lair murderess aud ber four accomplices were se cured, and, after being manacled, were carri ed off to prison. A close examination of the house led to no other discovery worth notic ing. Thus far in the words of Peuchet, whose explanation of this strange history is as fol lows : A number of the most desperate male factors, whose crimes had often merited the gibbet and the galleys, had formed an associa tion under the command of an experienced and daring chief. This arch villain had in the course of his wanderings fallen in with a rich but most profligate Englishwoman a modern Messalina. She lent herself to serve as a de coy, by means of which young men who had the appearance of wealth were lured to the den where young Lecoq had had so miracu lous an escape. They were murdered, and their heads seperated from their bodies. The latter were disposed of to the surgical stu dents for anatomical purposes j and the heads, after being dried and embalmed, were kept un til a safe opportunity offered of sending tbem to Germany, where a high price was given for them by the secret amateurs of a science then in its infancy, but which has- sine wade a noise in the worULunder the name of phcr nology, or the system -of Gall and Spurzheim. The government dreading the eflect on the minds of the people likely to be produced by a public exposure of these numerous and atro cious murders, took measures for the prompt but secret punishment of the culprits. The four robbers were hung, and their female ac complice was also sentenced to death ; but destiny ordained otherwise, as the sequel will prove. The conclusion of this strange eventful his tory is thus narrated by Penchet. The Chev alier de Lorraine, the Marquis de Lonvois, and the Chancellor of France happened to be present in the Marchioness de Moptcspan'a apartment, whilst Louis XIV. was relating to her and the Duke of Orleans, bis brother, the adventure of young Lecoq, . who had been re warded with a considerable sum of money and a lucrative place. The marchioness express ed great horror at the profligacy and cruelty of lady Guilfort, (which title, like that of Ja brouski, was one of the many names assumed by the Englishwoman, her real name having never been discovered,) and asked the King if the execution of ua base and fiendish a creature should take place. Louis X.IV. re plied that the law would take its course, and then changed the conversation. Soon after the Duke of Orleans and the Chevalier de Lor raine took their leave. After quitting the apartment, the Chevalier said to his royal highness, "This Englishwoman must be a rare piece of womanhood ; suppose we have her to sup with us V The prince cried out, "shame shame !" but the extravagance of the propo sal pleased him ; and on the favorite renewing his entreaties ho consented. The Englishwo man being confined in the Bastile, a blank hi ire de cachet was procured and filled up with an order to the governor to deliver to the care of the bearer, Lady Guilfort, for the purpose of her being transferred to the prison at Pigner ol. The governor of the Bastile delivered up his prisoner; but shortly after having done so, he came to the knowledge of the trick that bad been played upon bim, and in the first mo ment of alarm and anger he talked of com plaining to the king ; but on the name of the Duke of Orleans being mentioned, he resolv ed to hush up the matter, which was done by means ot a procts verbal certifying the sudden death and burial, within the precincts of the Bastile, of the female prisoner in question. Lady Guilfort, who supposed that her remo val from the Bastile was only for the purpose ol being taken to the Conciergerie, preparato ry to her execution, soon perceived, however, that the carriage took the direction of one of the barriers of Paris ; after quitting which, and at the end of two hour's drive, it stopped. A kind of equerry came and opened the door, offered ber his band to descend, and after passing through a long corridor, and up some flights of stairs, ushered her into a brilliant and well-lighted apartment. After the inter val of a few minutes, three gentlemen entered the room. Though plainly dressed, it was ev dent, from their air and manner, that they were persons of high rank. One of them im mediately on entering, put an opera glass to his eye, and examined with haughty curiosity Lady Guilfort; the two others threw them selves into arm-chairs. Lady Guilfort, after the first surprise was over, had no difficulty in recognizing in the persons before her the king's brother the Duke of Orletns, the Mar quis d'Effiat, and the Chevalier de Lorraine. She quickly conceived the motives which led to her "being brought into their presence ; and though, under other circumstances, she would have willingly joined in the wildest orgies with the persons in whose eompany she then found herself, yet the recollection of her dun geon in the Bastile, and the terrible death im pending over her, left no thought but that of making her escape, fehe atlected not to be aware of the rank of the personages before her; but, seeming to enter into the spirit of tho adventure, she exerted all her powers of fascination, and soon made captive to her se ductive influence the Chevalier de Lorraine and the Marquis d'Effiat. But the Duke of Orleans, never a great admirer of the fair sex, and who could not vanquish bis horror of the Englishwoman, tired before long of the scene; and bethinking himself that the gratification of bis curiosity might be too dearly purchased by the risk of the King's displeasure, should the circumstance reach bis Majesty's ears, aud having refused to stay for supper, was con ducted by the Chevalier de Lorraine and the Marquis d'Effiat to his apartment, for this scene took place in the palace of Versciilcs, and in the lodging of the Marquis de Lafare, the use of which be had given to the Cheva lier de Lorraine for twenty-four hours. The two gentlemen, after returning to the room where lady Guilfort was, sat down with her to a petit temper. The most exuberant gai ety, and not the roost refined gallantry, was the order of the night. At the close of a sup per which had been prolonged into the small hours of the morning. Lady Guilfort on a sud den rose up, and taking up a taper, made her lowest courtesy, and wished the gentlemen good night. She then quitted the room. Soon after the two gentlemen moved off to their respective chambers, when Lady Guil fort silently locked the doors of their apart ments, and hurried back to the supper-room, where, tying together the table-cloths and nap kins, she fastened one end of this impromptu rope to the balcony, and, by means of it, let herself down into the park, where she lay con cealed until the gates were opened in the mor ning. She then slipped out, and hurrying in to the town of Verseilles, took tbe first vehi cle that offered, and arrived in Paris before her two imprisoned admirers were released from durance, as they dared not, during the night, make a noise in the palace by calling or ringing for the servants, to have the doors of the rooms in which they were locked up forced open, lest it might lead to the discovery of their participation in the criminal trick played off upon the Governor of tbe Bastile, and the escape of Lady Guilfort. On arriving at Paris, lady Guilfort hastened to the Rne Plat d'Etain, where, in an obsenre and miserable looking house, but admirably contrived inside for the purpose of conceal ment, lived one of tbe chief agents of tbe band of malefactors with whom she was connected. There, after explaining to ber accomplice- tbe means by which she had recovered her liberty, she found a secure asylum. In a little time, aided by this villain, Lady Guilfort organized a new troop of bandits, upon whom she could reckon, offensively and defensively. She, as chief of tbe association, planned the expedi tions, appointed to each the part he was to play, partitioned the booty, and, at times, took a personal part in the expedition. The indi vidual in whose honse she had taken refuge, was" lieutenant of the troop. ' ' As it waa no longer possible to allure vic tims to the den by means ol Lady Guilfort'" personal attractions, the efforts of the band were principally confined to house robberies ; but murders were avoided, unless where they became necessary to the safety ot the robbers. Besides the feeling of hatred arising from the loss of four of the troop, including the cap tain, and the diminution of their gains effected by young Lecoq's interference, Lady Guilfort nourished a deep desire of personal vengeance against hfm for having been duped by him, and resorted to the following stratagem to grat ify that feeling. Young Lecoq, enriched by the bounty of the king, and possessed of a lu crative place, led a regular life, undisturbed by any fears of Lady Guilfort's vengeance, he supposing her to be dead, when, one day, a grave-looking and respectably-dressed man called upon him, and, alter requiring a prom ise of secresy with regard to what he should tell him, asked if he should like to be put in the way of detecting a set of smugglers, who carried on an extensive and thriving trade be tween Belgium and Paris, in Brussels lace and other prohibited goods. Lecoq, whose ruling passion was avarice, eagerly accepted the of fer, and agreed to tbe terms proposed. His informant was to point out Lecoq as a sure a gent, to whose house the smugglers might con sign their bales and cases of contraband mer chandize. Ten to twelve days after the con clusion of this bargain, a cart stopped at Le coq's door, and from it were taken two large wooden cases, which, according to Lecoq'bor ders.were placed in a store-room on the ground floor of bis house. The carter, after in vain searching his pockets for the keys, said that he must have left them at the stage where he bad stopped the night before, but that be would return thither, and bring them to Lecoq the next morntng. From some over-acting on this man's part, and fronfDbserving that these cases were perforated in seven or eight places with small holes Lecoq had his suspicions a wakened. He communicated his doubts to a friend of his, a courageous and resolute young fellow; and in the evening, when everything was very quiet in the house, they both, armed with pistols, descended with noiseless steps the stairs, and took their posts near the door of the store-room, which had been left pur posely unclosed. They had been for a considerable time on the watch ; and Lecoq's Iriend, getting impa tient, was about abandoning bis post, when an indistinct noise from that part of the store room where the cases were placed, struck their ears. They redoubled their attention the noise increased; and they were soon afterwards able to ascertain that it came from the cases. Lecon squeezed the band of his friend the signal was understood they both cocked their pistols. "John,", said a voice in the lowest possible whisper, "are you there ? We ap pear to be alone in the house. Let us breathe a little air, for I am stifled in this cursed box. We can lie down again when the people of the bouse come back." "Do you think they have any suspicion I" "Not the least ; with all bis cunning, Lecoq is blinded by bis avarice ; tbe English woman judged him rightly, and to night,at twelve, she may satisfy ber vengeance in the heart's blood of tbe infamous mouchard (police spy.") "Fire 1" cried Lecoq, at the same time discharging his pistol in the direc tion of the cases ; his friend did the same; and the explosion was followed by a double cry of agony the balls had taken effect- Le coq ran into an adjoining room, where he had placed a lighted lamp in a cupboard,and bring ing it with him into the store-room, be and his friend saw the robbers stretched at the bottom of the cases, one dead, and the other having his thigh broken. The toise of the fire-arms bro't several of tbe neighbors to the bouse and soon after the patrol arrived. This circumstance greatly annoyed Lecoq : as the public rumor of the discovery of the two robbers would, if it reached the ears of the rest of tbe band, prevent them Irom keeping their engagement for midnight,and thus frustrate) is intention of seenring them all. lie However, endeavored to repair as much as possible the evil, by en joining silence on those who entered tne nouse. He also informed the lieutenant-general of po lice, wbo sent him a company of soldiers, dis guised, and who came to tbe house only one by one, where they were conveniently posted for the reception of the robbers. It bad scarcely struck midnight when the noise of several feet was heard approaching, and soon after they stopped opposite the door of tbe house,whilst, at the same time, five knocks were given upon one of tbe windows of the store-room ; the door after a moment's delay, was cautiously half opened, and four men suc cessively entered, followed by another figure in female attire. The door was then slammed to violently, a whistle was blown, and instant ly numerous torches and tapers were brought from the adjoining rooms,which lighted up the ball, and exhibited to the stupefied banditti the musketa of thirty soldiers leveled at them. In despair they dropped their arms, and were seized, bound, and carried off to prison. Be fore their departure, Lecoq went up to the fe male figure, and putting a lamp to her face, beheld features totally unknown to bim. The woman was not Lady Guilfort. Lecoq's disap pointment and astonishment were extreme. The next day, however, he received a note, which in some measure cleared up the myste cy. This notc,wbicb exists in the archives of the police, waa brought to bim by a porter, who 8a id it bad been given to him by a lady in a thick veil. Tbe contents were as follows : "Tremble ! One of us must perish Yes terday I was near your house, when the im patience ot my two agents rendered abortive my plan ; but wishing to revenge myself on the new captain of our troop, and tbe unwor thy rival be has preferred to me, I did not warn him ot the fate of our advanced guard, but allowed him to proceed on the expedition, knowing that be would thereby become your and the police's prey. I have succeeded, and they (Will now expiate the scorn tbey treated me with. Yon may judge from this if my vengeance knows how to reach those that in cur it. It is your turn next, young fanfaron, who imagine that you are secure from my blows, . by having made yourself a mouchard, when at best you are good lor nothing else than to be .... Peuchet adds, in a note, "after this letter, the conclusion of which is expressed in too energetic terms to be repeated to ears polite, the report breaks off abruptly, several pages having been torn out ol the register. We are, therefore, ignorant of the denouement of Lady Guilford's history ; but from what we have seen of it, it is abundantly clear that this was not the last of her adventures." ' Michael Stover captured a straw-colored rac coon, near Aaronsburg, Centre co., recently. A SWEET FASHIOJr. There are many strange vagaries of fashion and that of our European friends over the wat er, for skunk lurs, is one of the most recent a most eccentric. A sudden sknnk fur fancy has pervaded the bosoms" of French and German belles, and they now take to .their hearts and wrap around their shoulders arti cles ol peltry which, a few years ago, a Yan kee ploughboy would not touch with a ten nay, not with a twenty foot pole. The follow ing extract from tbe New York Journal of Commerce explains in detail our remarks : ; "Tbe traffic in skunk skins has suddenly be come a most important branch of tbe fur trade, and the skins of an animal which, three year ago, were deemed of no value whatever, are now in the greatest demand. They are collect ed for exportation alone. Tbe principal mar kets are Russia and Turkey, though some are sent to Germany, where they are sold at largo profit, as the fur of the genuine "fisher." The black skins are valued tbe most, and during the past winter the market price has been a high as $1 per skin, while mottled skins brought only 70 cents. These prices, howev er, have recently depreciated considerably, on account of the immense exportation. Up wards of 50,000 of these skins have been ship ped from this city alone within the .past two months, and one firm in Maiden Lane have now on band about 18,000, ready for shipment. These are designed for tho Lcipaic sales Leipslc being, next to Novogorod, in Russia, the most important fur entrepot in Europe. The first intimation received in this market of the valne of this new description of fur, came from the Hudson's Bay Company, which, hav ing shipped a few to London at a venture, found the returns so profitable,tbat they imme diately prosecuted the business on an extensive scale, and now so large has been tbe exporta tion, that a glut in the market is anticipated." Perhaps, after a year or so, these skunk skins will be re-imported, under some fancy foreign price. Then Madam Blank will return . fromParis in a complete set, say of skunquetto furs ; and there will be a rage for the article, " and tbe creatures will perhaps be extermina ted. Every thing is ordained for wise ends pei haps the fashion is intended to put an end to a most noisome animal. There Is a droll Jack Downing and Sam Slick saying of "let ' every man skin hia own skunks," meaning " that he who has a disagreeable duty to perform ' need not attempt to shirk it off on others. ; Just now the proverb is void of significance ; " be who bas the most skunks to skin being de- ' cidedly the best off of the party. Animal and Vegetable Life. There is " nothing short of revelation that more beauti fully or satisfactorily proves the existence of an Almighty mind than the fewness and sim plicity of tbe ultimate elements of animal and' vegetable life. Thus, there are but four ehs mentary principles essentially necessary, and but six generally employed, to lorm every va riety of organic life: nitrogen, carbon, oxy gen, and hydrogen are the 'bases, to which sul phur and phosphorus may be considered sup plementary. With these, infinitely varied in their atomic proportions, are built up not on ly the whole animal kingdom," but also every variety of the vegetable world from' wheat, tbe "staff of life," to the poison of the deadly Upas tree. It is also worthy of remark that these four elemental principles are those also of which both air and water are composed, so that air and water may be considered in trnth and fact as being the original elements of or ganic life. Dr. Toulmin. A Max Comisg to Lire at His Own Fcnsh. At. In Orange, N. J., week before last, a man named John Knox, while engaged in painting ot the third story of a bouse, fell to the ground, and was taken up for dead. Ha was conveyed to his residence, iaid ont, and bis afflicted relatives and friends'fn due time proceeded to make the usual arrangements for the funeral, which was appointed for Sunday. Shortly before the hour appointed on that day, tbe body exhibited signs of returning anima tion, and in a few moments afterward, to the astonishment of all, the young man in tho coffin, who was of course believed to be dead, was able to converse with his friends ! It i m singular case, and the man's escape from be ing buried alive was truly miraculous. Tho" physicians, however pronounce his present' condition as extremely critical, and it is doubt ed whether he may survive the injuries sus tained by the fall. Renovation of thi Peach Tbee. The edi tor of the New England Farmer says that a gentleman residing in Cambridge Iniorma binr that charcoal placed around tbe roots Tf the deceased peach stock was valuable. He Im mediately removed the soil from around tbe trunk of a sickly tree in the garden, supplied its place with charcoal, and was surprised at its sudden renovation and subsequent rapidi ty of its growth, and the tenacity with'1 w'hich the fruit held on the branches and the Unusu al richness of its flavor when matured.' The New York French Courier des Etats U nis says that a new expedition for the conquest of Cuba is now on foot. . It also asserts that part of the expedition bas already sailed, and that within a few days the whole affair will be made public. The plan, as sketched by tbe Courier is, to land on some remote point on the Cuban coast, where they are to maintain tnemseives until a general rising in tbe Island shall summon them to march upon Havana. A correspondent of the New York Courier says when the Controller of that city negotia ted with the Rothschilds concerning the Cro ton Loan they wrote bim that'thy could not imagine what use for 'an' aqtt'educt of forty miles in length there "wis for New York, aci ty surrounded by frtsh vftiter ! Shocking. It is stated that a young lady on Boston Common," dressed in the extreme of fashion, was mistakntf by some boys for a cir cus tent, and tbey ' actually crawled some dis tance under the canvass before they discovered their mistake. . , Tbe members of St, John's T.nth.rn ohnroh Lancaster, Pa., "surprised? their paster, Ret. D. Steck, on tbe 31st March, by presenting him a purse containing $100 in gold. - Hail stones, measuring 10 to 12 inches in circumference, fell at Natchez, Mlssisstppi.oa the 24th March. One waa found which mea sured tvetnty-tveo by sixteen inches ! . ; Thirty citizens of Tamaqua, Pa., bat left that plaee for Pike's Peak. r; i i - A t i 4i r'- V i !
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers