The Penn's Grove record., 1885-05-02

Susan Miles, my aunt's maid, me-
me at the door OF her room.
THANK goodness you've come, Mr..
HerbeTtr' she exclaimed, whilst the
tears coursed each other down her fur
Towed cheeks. "She does nothing but
ask for you; there's something on her
mind, and she can't be easy Till she's
seen you"
My aunt was propped up in bed, look
ing certainly paler than | had ever seen
her, but, so far as my unprofesslonal ex-
perience went, not exactly at the point
of death.
81 am glad you have come, Herbert,
she muTmured weakly. sit is over for
this time, Doctor Porter says; but my
life hangs upon a thread-a mere thread.
This evenings shock is the beginning
of the end. 1t is a solemn warning to
me, Herbert, a very solemn warning;
and must be prepared for a sudden
Gala very sudden call it may be.
When ! was so i'll just now, | pictured
the whole scene. the ~confusioH, your DIS
tress, Herbert"
L bowed my head, whilst a queer
choking sensation in my throat pre-
vented my usual parrying repartee.
A
"And | felt," continued my aunt,
that, in all the circumstances, the one
thing left me to be anxious abOut-the
clock, you know-might be overlooked
or forgotten at that time. Ii was on
my mind in that agony, Herbert; and
now | am determined, whilst L ave
strength, to settle the poor thing in It's
new home before l go myself" She
spoke as if the clock were a living crea-
ture. at will be an effort, Herbert"
she went on, the tears filling her eyes;
"but | shall feel happier for it. And
delays are dangerous. | want you to
take the clock at once TO Calais,
find out your cousin Phyll1s, and deliver
it into her own hands. Then come back
and report to me how she received it,
DO you wish me to go now?' L IN
CURED, looking, now that my alarm was
over. a little regretfully down at my
dre54-Suit.
Yes" replied my aunt. 81 will not
risk another day; that terrible spasm
may return at any moment, and in my
weakened state"
Yes, yes,' | interrupted hastily,
taking out my watch. 'It is nearly
nine O'Clock have missed the even
ing mail. but l can go In the morning,
cross by the early boat, anu come back
in the afternoon. / shall get back by
dinner-time-that is" / amended, pull
ing myself up in my glib program by a
sudden remembrance, ''if | have no de-
lay in finding Miss Mortimer. You
have her address, l suppose?n
swell, no, l haven't; but the Mortl-
mers have been for some years at Calais
You might find out at the English
bankers, l should say, or the Consui's
perhaps"
''Oh. IT will be all rightP' l replied.
81 shall have no difficulty in unearthing
them, | have no doubt"
81 don't see any necessity for your
hurrying back so quickly, Herbert"
observed my aunt, whose spirits were
rising; "you might stay and-and make
your Cousins acquaintance, and tell me
all about her, whether she Is like Annie,
or has the Mortimers' n0se--a short
snub nose, quite different from our fam
lily Roman-a very common nose, in
fact. 4 hope Annje's child has escaped
it; and-er-Herbert, l should like to
hear how the family receive the clock"
That was the real secret; aunt Martha
was more anxious. about the time-hon-
ored relic than the unknown Aiece.
81 have had a case made for it," sand
my aunt plaintively, as she slipped a
ten-pound note into my hand for ex-
penses, ''and Peters has packed it very
carefully. You will find it ready for
YOU In the hall. Goodbye, my dear
boy, and Heaven bless you and bring
you safe back againt'
With this solemn benediction l vas
dismissed. In the hall l found Peters
standing over a remarkable looking
black box, a cross between a child's cof-
fin and a Violin.case. This he handed,
with the gravity of an undertaken, into
my cab.
Strange to say, l had never before
crossed the Channel, and l had under
taken the expedition in all the confidence
of Ignorance. The crossing from Dover
was calm and short; but it was just
when my difficulties, according to my
own calculation, should have been over
that they really began. l ought, l sup
pose, to have been prepared to hear the
French language spoken on French soil;
nevertheless it took me quite by sur
prise: so did the utter failure of my
French to convey any impression what
ever to the mind of the gendarme who
barred my pate to the gangway.
soul, oui, oui, le mieng-une clOche,' y
l explained, resisting the officials at
tempt to possess himself of aunt Mar
tha's black box, which l had carefully
secreted under my travelling ulster.
Hn'y a pas de consequence" 1 con-
cluded, with a wave of my ~dlsengaged
hand and a proud impression that | was
speaking French well and iluently-''il
nv a pas de consequences, mussoorl"
The man however was not to be pro.
pitlated; he put me aside with more
force than politeness, whilst he poured
out a torrent of perfectly unintelligible
speech before which my feeble effort
went down like a reed before a noun
tain stream.
He evidently regarded me with sus-
picioa. for he beckoned to a couple of
his comrades stationed at the top Of the
ladder, and pointed. to my intense an
noyance, to the miniature sarcophagus
in its s'deceat black" l was not, after
all, to effect the unobtrusive landing on
which | had counted.
20 est une cloche,"I repeated more
loudly-''une clochel"
The men glared at me. The eldest
and apparently most important of the
three demanded something OF me in an
uncompromising toni which made my
British blood boil
''La cleft On est Ia clg r'-("The
key! Where is the key2'')
He might have been speaking Greek
for ANYTHING | knew to the contrary.
was reaping the just reward of sins
against the mueh-despised "Froggie''
OF my sehoolboy days.
"La cleft" imperatiyely repeated the
official.
1 shook my head desperately. just
then [ remembered with dismay an &C.
count | had lately read of an accom-
plished la~dy-smuggler who vas found
to nave secreted some hundreds of yards
of valuable lace in a ehild's coffin. /