Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1870-12-29

he is again. He won't live till morning,
and he is perhaps dead already. He
must be dead !"
Again it seemed to him as though
some demon echoed his words.
The match dropped from his fingers
into the water. For little while he
crouched on the wet stones in silence,
battling it may be with the better and
nobler instincts of his nature.
AT last, with sudden and abrupt
stealtbiness, his hands stole into the
breast pocket of Tressilian and drew out
his private notebook, packet of letters,
few trinkets. He secured these among
his own garments. Their possession
seemed to give him courage, aud bis
face hardened, and he knelt beside the
body of his friend and riAed his gar
ments of all that they contained, be-
slowing his plumber on his own person
Then he took his own purse, his note
book, few receipts and trifes from his
own pockets, and pu, them in the peck
cts of TressiIian.
"It is done !" he whispered to himself,
looking with wild defiant eyes through
the darkness. "No one is harmed. He
is dead. If he had lived, he would have
provided for me. AS he is dying or
dead, | must provide for myself. This
likeness bet,Oeen as aoi1l make my fortune
His friends will be spared terrible
grief, and IL shall live at last! For
tune gives me chance to gain name
and wealth at one lucky stroke !!
Asif to give himself no chance for
repentance, he arose to his feet and
turned searching chances in an inland
direction. A light, as from cottage
window, glimmering family through the
thick haze, caught his gaze.
Raising his voice, he called loudly:
"Helpl Ho, there, help!'
The wind had abated, and his cries
rang out through the night with start
ling distinctness. The light he had seen
moved and disappeared. A minute
later, answering cries reached Lowders
ears, and he heard hasty steps, and saw
the approaching light of lantern, borne
aloft by mans appraised arm.
''This way" shouted Lowder. eve
are wrecked on the rocks! For the love
of Heaven, hasten"
The bearer ofthe lantern, attended by
a male companion, came running to him,
and was soon ct his side. The lantern
bearer was rough Sicilian fisherman,
a grade above his class. His companion
was also Sicilian. but evidently Of some
what higher degree. Both were all
excitement, establishment and sympathy.
In as few words as possible Lowder
told the story of the shipwreck, and
called attention to the condition Of his
noble young employer.
81 think he is dead!' he said, in a
choking voice. Garry him up to your
cabin. Let everything be done that can
be done to save him. will pay you
we'll for any kindness to him. Poor fell
low! He was my travelling companion.
I loved him as if he had been my brother
instead Of only my hired attendant. Poor
Jasper !"
The Sicilians lifted the helpless form
of poor young Tressilian, and carried it
between them toward their cottage.
Jasper Lowder followed them, bewailing
his loss. The above we publish as a
specimen chapter; but the continuation
of this story will DO found only in the
N. Y. Ledger. Ask for the number
dated January 7th, which can be had at
any news office or bookstore. If you
are not within reach Of q news office,
you can have the Ledger mailed to you
for one year by sending three dollars to
Robert Bonner, publisher, $50 William
street, New York. The Ledger pays
more for original contributions than any
other periodical in the world. 1t will
publish none but the very, very best.
Its moral one is the pures,, and its cir
cuIation the largest. Everybody who
takes it is happier for having it.