The Portland daily press., 1873-11-08

>'ANShVy pCVh Uulbibo P"P~AS
carefully over, spreading it out upon news
paper. | found nothing leglble except one
little scrap of paper, which the fire had not
altogether reduced to powder, on which
saw the name of Isabel shining with metallic
lustre. Then l went to the bedroom, and
searched that. Here, too, were evident prep
aratons for fight; coats and other garments
thrown hastily into cupboards, boxes turned
out, an odd glove or two lying upon the
dressing table. | carefully searched all the
pockets for letters or other documents, but
found nothing. The keys were left in all the
receptacles; an instance Of Charles thought
tulness for Others, in the midst of his rascal
ity.
Lying upon the wash-stand was card,
which was blank upon one side, but on the
other had the name of aphotographerprinte
upon it. The card was wet, as if it had been
soaked in water; and near the upper end oil
IL was round, Irregular cut, which did not
quite penetrate the card. 1t had evidently
once had photograph fastened ON it; ac-
cordingly, the card had been wetted, to facil-
itate the removal of the photograph, whilst
the face of the portrait had evidently been cut
out, in order to place it in locket or some
thing similar.
1t struck me once that the photograph
about which a man on the eve of flight
would take take so much trouble must be OF
person very dear to him; probably lis
sweetheart. Although l had been intimate
with Thrapstow, he had always been very re-
served as 10 his own friends and associates,
and had no clue to guide me to any of them
except the photographers card.
Re-entering my cab, l drove off to the
photographers. There was no number or
distinguishing mark upon the card, aud the
chances seemed faint that he would be able
to tell me anything about it, Indeed, at
first, when the man found that 1 wasn't a
customer, he seemed little inclined to trouble
himself about the matter. The promise of a
fee, however, made him more reasonable,
and he offered to let me see his books, that
might search for the name wanted to find
But then didn't know the name wanted
to find. 1t was unlikely that the photograph
| had been done for Thrapstow; if it had,
there would probably appear in the books
| only the useless record o. his address, already
known to me. Then the man shook his
head. III didn't know the name, it was no
use looking. The card was nothing, he said
he sent hundreds out every month. What
information could he possibly give me? Then
l tried to describe the personal appearance
Of Thrapstow; but again he shook his head.
be likely to remember him; hardly even
then, so many people passed through his
hands.
All this time he had been carelessly holding
the card in his fingers, glancing at 1t now ard
then, and suddenly an idea seemed to strike
him. 'sStop bit," he said, and went into
his dark chamber, and presently emerged,
smelling strongly of chemicals. 'Look
here.' he said triumphantly. l looked, and
saw a very faint ghostly impression of pho
tograph. ''lt's printed itself tn. ough," said
nj
brought it to light. Yes, know the original
of that" Again he Owed into closet, and
brought out negative with number ard
label to it. Then he turned to his book, and
wrote down an address tor me-MTs. Maid
mont, Larkspur Road, Noting Hill.
Away 1 went to Larkspur Road. Mrs.
Maidmont's house was a small, comfortable
residence, with bright windows, verandahs,
gorgeous window-boxes, and striped sun
blinds. Mrs. Maitland was at home, said a
very neat, pretty-ooking maid, and sent in
tant business" The maid came back to say
| that her mistress did not recognize the name
| but would l walk in? l was shown into a
| pretty drawing-room on the first floor. An
| elderly lady rose to greet me with old fash
| Toned courtesy, at the same time with good
deal of uneasy curiosity visible in her face.
This was not the original Of the photograph,
who was young and charming girl
Madame 1 said rapidly, Il believe that
my friend, Charles Thrapstow, is well known
to you; now, it is Of the utmost Importance
that should ascertain where he is at this
moment'
''Stayr' said the old lady. ''You are la
boring under a complete mistake; 1 know
nothing whatever of the gentleman whose
name you mention; name 1 never head
before
Was she deceiving me? I did not think
so.
"Perhaps Miss Maidmont may know" /
said eagerly.
"Miss Maidmont is not likely to have form
ed any acquaintance without her mother
knowledge said Mrs. Maidmont with dig
nifty. There seemed to be no alternative but
but for me to retreat with apologies.
II am very busy, you see, went on the old
lady, with wave of the hand; and indeed
the room, now looked about me, 1 saw to be
strewed with preparations for some festive
event ball, perhaps, or, flom wreath Of
orange blossoms that l saw peeping out of a
milliner's box, more like wedding. / was
about to take my departure reluctantly, when
young girl, a charming young girl, bounded
into the room; she was the original of the
photograph.
"Oh mammal she cried, 'here's letter
from poor Charlie to say he can't possibly
come here tonight! Isn't it provoking ?
And l want to consult him about so many
things"
"Well, my dear Isabel" said the old lady
placidly, "you'll have enough of his company
afterto-morr1w. From which judged that my
surmise as to the wedding was correct, and
that Charlie was the bridegroom-elect.
''By the way" she went on, "here's gen.
tleman, Isabel, who insists that we know a
Mr.. Charles forget the name now."
"Thiapstow," 1 interjected.
ga Mr.. Charles Thrapstow. You know OF
no such person, Bea?'
81 know of no Mr.. Charles but Charles
Tempest" said Isabel.
sit is singular, too, that the initials of our
friends should be the same. May ask if you
have givel your portrait, taken by Buebore
of Kensngton"-
Upon my word" said Mrs. Maidmont
rising and sounding the bell, ''this is rather
too much from total stranger. We don't
know your friend, and we don't know you.
Susan, show this gentleman out.''
"But a gentleman" l cried, with blue
eyes, and yellow beard and moustsche, and
turned-up-nose."
mo moreP' cried Mrs. Maidmont. Gam
L to repeat once more, we know nothing
about him ?''
What could 1 do under these circumstances
Jul MY icdfe Ill OuSd0, however,
found an unexpected ally. She had heard
my parting words of description, and she
turned to me as we were descending the
stairs, and said, 'Miss Isabers young nan is
exactly like that" Halt crown and a few
blandt hments, which, under the crcum.
stances, l think even my worthy spouse
would have cundoned, put me into possession
of the facts.
Miss Maidmont was really going to be mar
eried tomorrow morning at st. Spikenard's
church to a Mr.. Cha:les Tempest, very
good-looking young man, whom they had not
known long, but who seemed to be very well
off. My description OF my friend tailed ex-
actly with Susan's of the bridegroom; but
the coincidence might be merely accidental.
81 ad Miss Ma;dmon: photograph of her
loyer?" l asked.
She had in her own room, it seemed. Sus-
en- couldn't get at it now without suspicion
but she promised to secure it, and bring
it with her if would meet her at 9 O'Clock
at the corner of the street.
was punctual to my sryst; and at 9, Susan
made her appearance with a morocco case
containing an excellent likeness of my friend,
Charles Tnrspstow, massive pin with topaz in
it, and all.
Now what was to be done? Should | go to
Mrs. Maidmont, and tell her how she was de-
ceived in her daughters lover? That would
have been the way best adapted to spare the