The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-10-11 00:00:00

THE MARKETS.

MARK-LANE.

At Mark-lane the supply of English wheat is light and
meets a slow sale at the rates current a week ago. Of
foreign the receipts are fairly good and the demand dull,
prices showing no appreciable change from those of Mon-
day last. Flour is he'd for late values, but buyers are very
,rce. Malting barley is rather firmer, but rot in ranch
d•-mand. Grinding sorts find a very strong market, and
are pretty generally is dearer on the week. Maize con-
t: nues in short supply, and, on like comparison, shows an
advance of 6d Oats have risen to the same extent,
arrivals throughout having continued very moderate.
Supplies of foreign beasts have been very heavy, and
have trought prices down is to. is 6d per qr. Peas un-
changed.

METROPOLITAN CATTLE MARKET.
The total imports of foreign stock into London last week
.mouuted to 17,012 head. In the corresponding period
last year we received 13,863 head ; in 1882, 18,379 ; in 1831.
; in 1880, 12.885 ; in 1879, 14,206 ; in 1878, 17 552 ; and
in 18n, 10,395 head. At Liverpool were received 1333
beasts from Boston, 493 beasts and 786 sheep from Mont-
real, and at Southampton 30 beasts from Jersey and
Guernsey. The cattle trade is quiet, with no special
feature. Moderate supees of stock were offering. The
demand was dull, but prime beasts were about the avertge.
The demand was dull, but prime beasts were steady, and
the best Scots and crosses Teased 5s 6d to Is 8d per lb.
1,%,-reign stock was not. plentiful, and was disposed of at
r lit the prices previously mitrent. In the • sheep pens
w.g a good supply; a slow inquiry prevailed at about last
Aveek's prices. The best Downs and half-lye Is made
641t06s 6d per 81b. Calves and pigs were qu'et, but
tirm
. Coarse and inferior beasts, 48 to 4s 6d ; second
qua, ity ditto, 48 6d to ss; prime largo oxen, 5s al to,
4(1;Is ditto Scots, &c., 5s 4d to Is 6d ; coarse and inferior.
sheep is 2cl to Is 10d; second quality ditto, 58 10d to,
Os 2a; prime coarsewoolled ditto, Os 2d to 6s 4d; prime
Southdown ditto, Os 4d to es 6d ; lsrge coarse calves,.
5s 4d to 5s ; prime small ditto, Is 8d to Cs; large
hog., 4s to 48 8(1; neat small porkers, 4s 13d to 58 per Bth.
to sink the °ILL Total supply—Beasts, 2840; sheep and
lambs, 10,390 ; calves, 300; pigs, 20. Foreign s Beasts,
210; sheep and 1amb?.2070 ; calves, 80.

METROPOLITAN MEAT MARKET.
A moderate supply was on sale, for which the trade was
slow at the annexed prices: Inferior beef, 3s to 33 4d;
middling ditto, 38 4d to as 8d ; prime large ditto, 4&4d to
43 104. ; prime small ditto, 5s to 6s 2d; veal, 58 to•ss 4d ;
inferior mutton, 3s Sd to 4s; middling ditto, 4.8 t 0.48 4d;
prime ditto, 4s Sd to 68 8d; large pork, 38 4d to 34 Ed;
and small ditto, 4s to 48 8d per 81b. by the carcase,
yksH.

O°':Ili per
Ip b;
Bloaters, 3s to 5s peQrboxpe;r kiblact. e
k soles,els sed t
pair; white ditto, 4d to 5d per lb. ; lobsters, 12s los per
dozen ; cas
rabs, 20s to , dto per
turbc,t, Cs to lie each; native oysters, 22a to 25e per 100;
.lommon ditto, 6d to Is 6d per dozen; cod., £4 109 to £8 per
leere ; crimped ditto, 6s 6el to 15s each; cQdjfl.4 is 90i to
2s 9d, each; and plaice, its to 23s per boz
POTATOES.
There was a moderate supply of potatoes on offer. A,
quiet demand provailei at the following rates: rent
regents, 608 to 70s; Essex shims,. 50s to 60a; Entail
kidneys, 60s to 70s; victories, 70s to 80s; champio s, 50X
to 69a; magnum bonnms, 61s to 7C's per ton,
GAME AND POULTRY.

Theasnits, 3s to 3s 6i; partridges, is 6d to 93 ad 1
grou.e, 2s 6d to 48 3d; black game, 28 4d to 4s ; snipe,
Is 61 to 2s; woodcocks, 33 to ss; widgeon, 1$ 6d to 2a;
wild ducks, 2s to 3s; plovers, 9d to Is 2d; pigeons, 64 to
is; chickens, is ea to zi ; fowls, 28 to 4s; awl gees%
es to 8g 6d each.

ALL itioll'lS 141 SERVI:D.]

AMBITION'S LADDER.
Ay the Author of " Atherstone Grange," "A Lilo for
a Love," 4-o.

CHAPTER XX.
DEPARTURE.
Farewell t a word that must be, and bath been—
A sound which makes us linger—yet—farewell.

ABOUT the same time that Eve Trenchard lost for
awhile remembrance of her trouble Leonard arose,
weary and unrefreshed, to prepare for his journey.
- For he too had passed the night in sleeplessness;
all the long, dreary hours—hours that appear so
much longer, so much drearier in the solemn still-
ness that reigns while the iost of the world is buried
in slumber -he had lain tossing anl timing from
side to side of the bed wherein he vainly sought
repose, and longing for yet dreading the approach
of day.
It came at last, however, and Leonard went
downstairs to meet the kind-hearted old n.an from
whom he was so soon to part, and go through the
.form of breakfast with him.
It was but a form, indeed; a meal in name only,
for neither of the two who sat down to it could force
•an appetite that did not exist, much to the disgust
of Mrs. Atkins who still continued to rule over the
doctor's household, and had got ready a tempting
repast for this the last meal of her preparing that
Leonard would eat for many a day to co i.e.
Years, while confirming her almost absolute sway
in the house which she had so long governed, had
not added mellowness to Mrs. Atkins% temper, nor
diminished the sharpness of her tongue, in proof of
which she denounced the shortcomings of her master
and Leonard in the matter of breakfast in no
measured terms.
"It's a flying in the face of nature," she said,
looking sourly down on the well-spread table' the
'contents of which were having so little justice done
to them. "A tempting of Providence, no less, to
let good victuals go to waste, not to say a word of
the trouble as I've had in getting 'ern ready, which,
-of course, is only my dooty, and 'I
don't complain,
as isn't my place to do so."
"I'm sure everything is very nice and does you
credit, Atkins," mildly observed the do..tor, while
Leonard, anxious to mollify the old lady (who had
quite forgotten her first-formed prejudices aguinst
him, it may be said, and had always allowed him to
-do just as he pleased with her) heaped on his plate
a goodly pile of eatables which he made pretemo to
attack. " Very nice, I daresay, but I really have
no appetite. Your favourite will make up for me,
though."
"'lea, it looks so, don't it now ?" exclaimed the
good woman, with a look of scorn at Leonard's
'clumsy attempt to deceive her. "Every mouthful
he takes on his fork goes back upon the plate. Ah !
time was when you didn't want no coaxing to your
meals' Master Leonard. Then my only trouble was
how to satisfy you enough."
"Don't be vexed with me, mammy," said Leonard,
With a sad smile, and giving up the mockery he had
devised for her comfort, when he saw that she
detected it for such, "I would eat to please you if
I could, but it's no use trying when each mouthful
seems to choke me."
Mrs. Atkins was not to be pacified, however.
She considered herself slighted in that her skill was
not treated with due appreciation, and left the room
apparently in high dudgeon.
But not to go further than the hall, where seated
upon the stairs, Leonard found her when he came
out on hearing the cab that was to convey him to
the station draw up in front of the house, her head,
covered with the apron she always wore, bent low
in an abandonment of grief at his departure.
Mrs. Atkins's temper was not of the sweetest,
being, indeed, best described by the epithet
" cranky," and as a boy Leonard had often suffered
little persecutions at her hands which, in spite of
extra indulgences she afterwards showered upon
him by way of amends,lhad not prepared him for
so much show of sorrow as her attitude now laid
bare.

6,1 shall never see you again, I'm sure I shan't,"
sobbed the poor old woman in reply to the few
words with which he tried to console her. " I'm
ft crossoatch, I know, and have often treated you
shameful, Master Len, but I've loved you all the
same as if you'd been a boy of my own, and I
can't bear that you should go away thinking badly
of me."
To which Leonard replied in such manner as
served partially to soothe and comfort her, and then,
a little affected himself by the evidence of attach-
ment she had revealed towards him bade her adieu,
his own voice suspicisusly broken, him,
he kept it
under command as far as possible, and hurried out
to join the doctor, waving a last farewell from the
cab window as they drove off to catch the train for
Southampton, from which port the Hesperus was to
sail at mid- day.
Doctor Sampson improved the occasion in
• orthodox style by impressing upon Leonard various
rules for his guidance now that he was for the first
time launched upon the world with no master save
- his own will, ending his exhortations by forcing
upon the young man a pocket-book well-filled with
notes and gold as a parting gift.
" Nonsense !" he said, frowning good-humouredly
When Leonard strove to induce him to take back
the proffered gift, or at least part of it. " You
won't find what is there any too much for your
requirements, my boy, and always bear in mind
that there is plenty more where it came from, so
don't be afraid to make use of it, only not for bad
Purposes, I hope. However, l've said enough in
the way of counsel, and won't worry you with more,
except to repeat this—if you should manage to get
yourself into a scrape of any sort
" try not to do so, sir, I promise you."
"'Yes, that's all very well, and to tell the truth
I have not Pauch fear on that scure, Len. I haven't
known you since you were a boy for nothing, and
I believe you to be true and honest."
"Thank you, sir."
"But," sententiously continued the doctor " you've _
got wisdom to learn yet, and that is not gained
Without paying some price or other for it. All I
want to make sure of is that if you do find yourself
in a mess—no matter from what cause —you will let
me know all about it. I promise you beforehand
I shall not be hard upon you."
"And I promise you, sir,"replied Leonard warmly,
"that I will never attempt to conceal anything from
you."
"That's as it should be, my boy. It's naturai
enough to get a tumble when you first try your
Wings, but it is the greatest folly in the world to
suppose we old birds, who have had tumbles too in
our days, can't sympathise with your troubles.
Mtny youngsters make that mistake and come to
grief through it; don't you contrive to fall into the
same error.'
Here the subject dropped, for they had reached
Waterloo, where, after an underhand transaction
with the guard of the train, they were ensconced
in a compartment which had no other occupant,
but the first jar and shock which is the invariably
unpleasant prelude to leaving a station had hardly
warned them that their journey was begun when
the door of the carriage was hurriedly thrown open
and a fresh passenger scrambled in.
The doctor was vexed at the intrusion, against
which he imagined he had securely guarded by his
tip, but there was no help for it, since the train had
started, and even had it been otherwise the new
corner could hardly have been turned out if he
chose to remain, so, making the best of it, they
occupied the two seats at the further end, where,
engaged in their own matters, they sp:edily forgot
.the presence of a stranger.
Neither had taken very much notice of him when
he made his appearance, beyond observing that he
wore spectacles and a white necktie, and from the
somewhat formal ct.t of his garments seemed to he
a clergyman of some sort; consequently it was with
no small surprise that they presently heard their
conversation broken in upon by the supposed clerical
gentleman politely enquiring whether smoking
annoyed them.
The surprise, however, was not due so much to
the fact of a clergyman desiring to indulge himself
in such manner as to the discovery they made on
looking round to answer him, for then it was plain
that he belonged to a very different profession, his
black overcoat, now unl-uttoned, covering the
- uniform of an inspector of police, his venerable grey
• hair—a wig—lying on the seat beside him, and cigar-
ease in his hand.
Both Leonard and the doctor opened their eyes at
the unlooked-for metamorphosis.
"No," replied the latter, after his momentary
pause of surprise. "I don't think we have the
light to object, indeed. This is a smoking carnage,
I believe?'
The officer nodded his head efirmatively.
‘: Yes," he answered, "but sometimes people fin
themselves in one by mistake, and I thought perhaps
at first that you--"
"Oh, no! I don't mind it in the least."
"I'm aware of that, sir, now I look again," said
the officer. "Perhaps you'll do me the honour of
accepting one of these. They're good weeds, I can
promise you."
Doctor Sampson looked and felt a little puzzled
...
"I'll take one with pleasure," he returned,
speak as
in himself from the case. "But y
though you know me! Now I have really no
remembrance of ever having met you before."
"Very likely," replied the inspector, smiling.
"But we know a great many people who know
nothing of us, Doctor Sampson, as is only natural,
and I've known you by sight for a good many years,
though this is the first time I've had the pleasure of
speaking with you."
"Indeed 1"
"Oh, there's nothing surprising in that," con-
tinued the inspector, puffing at his cigar with an
Vr of enjoyment and settling himself into a com-
fortable attitude, "though it may seem BO to you.
I've
, known you—let me see, how many years ?
ritt ! more than I care to look back upon. But it'e
"IIY business to know everybody."
'Perhaps then, you know this gentleman too
511€1. Doctor Sampson, a little sarcastically.
s "
"Certainly I do," replied the inspector quietly.
lieally 1"
S,Really unless lam mistaken—and that's very
etvsZLilTly, supposing him 0 be Mr. Leonard

Leonard and the doctor exchanged lool;s of sur-
prise, which did not escape the other's Observation.
"I'm right, I see," he went on. "I thought I
must be. Yes, sir, I've known him, so to say, as
long—longer, indeed, than I have you, which is
ever since the night you took him away from a
place where me and my men broke up a gang of
coiners."

"You are not quite correct there, at all events,"
said the doctor. "For I did not find him for
several days after that occurrence. It is sufficiently
near, however. But who the deuce are you to be
acquainted with so much ?"

My name is PouncebyZsir. I daresay you have
heard it more than once before now."

"Many times, of course. And so it was you
who were concerned in that affair, eh? Well, this
is rathcr an odd encounter, Len, considering the
errand you are bound upon, and not altogether an
unwelcome one, Mr. Pounceby, ' he added, turning
again to that gentleman. "Perhaps you may be
able to give us some help."
"Shall be very glad, sir, if you will tell me
how."

Whereupon Doctor Sampson, having first ex-
changed a few words with Leonard as to the ad-
visability of confiding in Mr. Pounceby, and gained
his consent, ran rapidly through the events of that
long past time, and ended by telling him how
Leonard was at that very moment hound on a search
for Alick 'Wood.

To all of which the inspecor listened attentively
enough, but shook his head dubiously at the con-
cluding portion of the narrative.
"I'm afraid it'll be like looking for a needle in a
bundle of hay, sir," he said.
"And you can't help us in any way ?"
"Not at present. Fact is, I've quite lost sight
of the party you want, though I daresay as I could
make him out again if I was to set my wits to
work."

_
"The most important point in the first place is,
Did he really go to Australia ?" asked Leonard,
breaking in for the first time on the conversation.
"Oh, yes, he went sure enough," answered
Pounceby, "and for a little white kept at steady
work as was provided for him. Then he disap-
peared altogether' and whether he's kept squ:tre
since or gone back to his old dodges is more than I
am able to say. The last is most likely, in my
opinion, for, in spite of hio fine talk about repent-
ance, and all that, if ever there was a born rascal in
the world it was the same Alick Wood." _ _ _

_
"It may be that he has returned to England,
perhaps ?'
"Well, no; I hardly think that. It is just on
the cards, but I fancy I should have found it out if
he had. I'll make enquiries when I get back to
town, however, and if I can learn anythinc, I'll let
you know at once. The job I've got in land ain't
likely to give me much trouble—l daresay I shall
be in London again to-night, with the man I m
looking after."
"Anything serlou3 ?" asked the doctor. '
"Oh, no! Only a methodist preacher, whose
congregation looked on him as a shining light. He's
hooked it with another man's wife."

"But you can't arrest him for that, can you ?"
"Well, you see, there's a small matter of some
few hundred pounds in bank notes, as they've took
to make things comfortable on the voyage. Only
for th t I don't fancy there'd been much noise
made by the husband. Here we are, sir at South-
ampton. You're going to the docks, I suppose?
Good day, and I won't forget the litt!e matter we've
been talking about."
With which Inspector Pounoeby disappeared to
pursue the de:inquent couple of whom he was in
search; and within a quarter of an hour afterwards
Leonard was standing with his guardian on the
deck of the ship that was so soon to bear him away
from home.

There was very little time left for leave-taking,
they found, for the wind served, and all was ready
for starting when they arrived on board.
It was better so. The bustle and confusion gave
no time for sad thoughts to intrude, and within an
hour Dr. Sampson stood alone upon the pier, watch-
ing the Hesperus as it was towed out of the harbour
into the open sea.
Then, w en she was no longer in sight, he turned
to gc. There was some difficulty in making his
way, for the jetty was crowded with passengers
just landed from a home-coming vessel belonging to
the same line as the Hesperus, and friends who had
come to greet them.
Two—a lady and gentleman—standing alone near
a pile of boxes, attracted the doctor's attention, and
he tried to get closer to them, but the crowd pre-
vented him, and presently he saw them move away,
and become undistinguishable among the many
moving figures that thronged the quay.
Still he pressed forward till ho reached the lug-
gage, which, from tho way the gentleman had
pointed out to the dock porters evidently belonged
to him, and read thereon,
Mr. Clarence WoodvlN,
Ta-senger,
Per ship Trojan.

"'Pshaw !" exclaimed the doctor, with an oda.
:ler ling of relief. "What an absurd fancy ! I sup-
pose my late conversation with that policeman
fellow put it in my head. The very idea is ridieu-
kus, of course."

CHAPTER XXI.
ODD FRIENDS.
I have kn,wn some men
Who'd boast of crime as if they spoke of virtue;
And hang their sins out as for ornament,
Ti cry to make the wond'ring audience stare.

THE errand on which Inspector Pounceby was
bound gave him even less trouble than be expected,
his information as to the runaway's movements
proving so correct that he had no difficulty in tracing
to his hiding place the backsliding pastor of Bethesda
Chapel, Walworth, within the whitewashed walls of
which holy temple the Reverend Silas Foxley was
wont, up to the period of his flight, to hold forth
in fervid phrase and pious platitudes to a con-
gregation that looked back upon his ministration
with horror, when it became whispered- about that
he had disappeared in company with the better-half
of one of their most respected elders, and that—to
add to the enormity of their offence—the fugitives
had appropriated what of money and valuables
portable and easily convertible into cash they had
been able to lay hands upon.
The Reverend Silas had concocted an elaborate
plan to put the pursuit which he knew would be at
once instituted upon a wrong scent, leaving behind
him in his lodgings, as if by accident, a memoran-
dum which pointed to America as his destination,
and had he carried his cunning but one step
farther, and actually taken the route of.which he had
left the clue, it is more than probable the ruse_ would
have been successful.

But Inspector Pounceby, in whose hands tne
matter was placed at once, was too old a hand at
the dodges of amateur criminals for evading justice
to be deceived by so transparent an artifice.

" AAd you if you knew anything of the trains
to Liverpool, and when you wern unable to tell him
sent out for a Bradshaw to find them himself, did.
he ?" said Mr. Pounceby to the virtuously indig-
nant landlady of the lodgings from whence the
Reverend Silas had decamped, who furnished him
with the above particulars as to her late lodger's
probable movements the mcre readily that she had
entertained a hope of one day becoming Mrs. Foxley.
"1 should like to see that Bradshaw, if you
please."
"Here it is, six. I suppose the wretch forget it,
or he wouldn't have left it behind to show which
way he has gone; for look here, Mr. Inspector,
here are all the trains marked, and the vessel he
means to Bailin to-morrow."

And Mrs. Ilitchin pointed, triumphantly in her
persi icuity, to these convincing proofs.
" Ah, I see," quietly observed Mr. Pounceby,
putting the book down. Did Mr. Foxley take any
paper in regulaey
"Oh, yes; the Standard."
"And used to read the shipping advertisements,
eh F"

On this point Mrs. Hitchin could give no infor-
mation, but a search through the file of papers that
she brought out from a cupboard wherein they had
been stowed after perusal by the Reverend Silas
resulted in a discovery which speedily gave Mr.
rounceby the clue he required, and sent him, as
we have seen, to Southampton, where he ran hill
quarry to earth.

- Great was the dismay created by his appearance
before them in the breasts of the Reverend Silas
Foxley and the fair, but frail, partner of his flight.
Armed with a warrant, Inspector Pounceby was
shown into their rooms at the out-of-the way hotel
in which they had sought to conceal themselves until
the vessel in which they had secured a passage
should be ready to sail, and bear them to another
land, where that peace and immunity denied them
at home could be obtained; resistance was useless,
and the delinquents surrendered without a blow.
There was nothing further for Mr. Pounceby to
do in the matter after effecting the capture, as the
runaways; were then taken charge of by the local
officers who accompanied him, so, to wile away the
hours before he could return to London, he took a
stroll through the town.
He had plenty of time to spare, and sauntered
through the busy streets with an odd sense of
freedom, now that his mission was accomplished,
from the cares of his profession that he never felt in
the metropolis, where he always looked about with
his eyes open, and was intimately acquainted with
the features of most of the members of thopredatory
trites.

ere, however, he was comparatively a stranger,
and could throw off the burden of responsibility
that in his own domain rested upon his shoulders,
though every now and then a quick glance of recog-
nition would escape him, and more than ono per-
son gave an uneasy start, and slunk down the
nearest byway on finding the keen eye of so well-
known an official as Inspector Pounceby tumcd upon
him.

All which was regarded by Mr. Pounceby com-
placently enough, for he was rather vain of his
reputation, and liked to see it duly acknowledged.
Personal tributes such as these, however, though
:latisfactory in an official sense, were too common
to afford Mr. Pounceby more than a passinc, graii-
) cation, and certainly not powerful enough to pre-
vent him from feeling some of the more ordinary
weaknesses of mankind—for even police o 'deers

are human—and confessing to an inward voiu which
cried out to be satisfied, and in answer to which he
bent his steps towards an hotel near the docks.
It was a well-built, handsome edifice—on principle
Mr. Pounceby never patronised any but the best—
and he stopped on the pavement opposite to survey
it before entering.
" Yes," he muttered, "that's the place, and there's
the window of the room where young Norris blew
his brains out whQn I knocked at the door, because
he fancied I was going to arrest him. Lord! I shall
never forget the sight."
And, hardened as he had been by many a scene
of desperation, Pounceby could not repress a shudder
of horror at this one remembrance that forced itself
upon him; for the occasion his thoughts referred to
was a very painful one.
"Only to think," he went on musingly. "If
the poor fellow hadn't been in such a hurry, if he'd
only given me half a chance to speak, he'd have
found out that the real forger of the bill for utter-
ing which he had been obliged to fly was discovered,
and his innocence proved, all through that plucky
little wife of his, who was just behind me, poor
soul! and had the words upon her lips to tell him
he was safe. How cut up she was to be sure! I
don't think I ever did see a woman take on so—and
I've seen a few desperate bad—as she did. And
yet, there's no accounting for such things, she got
spliced again almost before mourning was out.
Ah ! they're queer creatures, that's a fact, and
there's no knowing which way.o take 'em."
And shaking his head as he pondered thus pro.
foundly over the mutability of feminine nature—
for Mr. Pounceby was something of a philosopher
in his way—he crossed the road and passed in at
the open door of the "Albion."

(To be continued.)