The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1885-02-13

the quaking reptile ran no further risk.
BARLEY never followed him beyond
his own room; he had been gOaded into
a maniacal impulse, and he returned to
his gloomy sullenness.
Walters declaration, made so sud-
denly before four persons, startled them
greatly for mOment-but only for a
moment. Julia was the first to speak.
"We might have known it," she said.
MARY BARLEY is young lady incapable
of misconduct; she is prudence, virtue,
delicacy, and purity in person; the man
be her husband, and who should that
be but Walter, whom she loved?"
Then the servants looked anxiOusly
at their master to see how he took this
startling revelation. Well, the Colonel
stood firm as if he was at the head of a
column in the field. He was not the
man to retreat from any position. He
said, "All we have to do is to save her;
then my house and arms are open to my
sons wife,"
God bless you, fatherw cried Walter,
in broken voice; "and God bless you,
dear cousin! Yes, it's no time for
words" And he was gone in a moment.
"NOw, Milton" said the Colonel, "he
won't sleep here till the work is done,
and he won't sleep at all if we don't get
bed for him near the mine. You or
der the break out, and go to the Dun
Cow and do what you can for him."
"That l will, sir; I'll take his own
sheets and bedding with me. / won't
trust that woman-she talks too much;
and, if you please, sir, I'll stay there a
day or two myself, for maybe | shall
coax him to eat amorsel of my cooking,
and to lie down a bit, when he would
not listen to stranger"
you're faithful creature" said the
Colonel, rather aggressively not choos-
ing to break down; $50 are you, John;
and it is at these moments we find out
our friends in the house; and, cOnfound
you, forbid you both to snivel," said
he; still louder. Then, more gravely,
"IlOW do we know? many stormy day
ends we'll; this calamity may bring hap
piness and peace to a divided house."
Colonel Clifford prophesied right.
Walter took the lead of working gang
and worked night and day, resting two
hours only in the twenty-fOur, and even
that with great reluctance. Outside,
the scene was one of hustle and ANNA
ton. Little white tents, for the strange
workmen to sleep in, dotted the green,
anu UWO SIlOWy ltlllS WtIc
pitched outside the Dun Cow. That
estab' shment had large brick ovens
and boilers, and the landlady, and the
women she had got to help her, kept
the tables always groaning under solid
fare that never once tagged, being UNI
der the charge of that old campaigner,
Colonel Clifford. The landlady tried to
look sad at the occasion which called
forth her energy and talents; but she
was woman of business, and her COM
placency Oozed through her. Oh, it was
not so at the pit mouth; the poor wives
whose husbands were ent0mbed below,
alive or dead, lowered and fluttered
about the two shafts with their aprons
| to their eyes. and eager with their ques-
tons. Deadly were their fears, their
/ hopes fainter and fainter, as day after
day went by, and both gangs, working
in so narrow n space, made little pro-
gress, compared with their own desires,
and the prayers of those who trembled
| for the result. 1t was race and Strug
gle of two gallant parties, and short
description of it will be given; but as
no new incidents happened for six days,
we shall preserve the chronological or
der of events, and now relate a daring
project which was revived in that inter-
val.
MOHCktol anu IJdI lley were HoW cile-
mics. Sin had united, crime and re-
morse had disunited, them. Monckton
had registered a VOW of future ven
geance upon his late associate, but In
the mean time, taking q survey of the
present circumstances, he fell back up
on dark project he had conceived years
ago. on the very day when he was ar
rested for theft in Bartley's office.
Perhaps our readers, their memory
disturbed by such number of various
matters as we have since presented to
them, may have forgotten that project,
but what is about to follow will tend to
revive their recollection. MoncktOn
| then wired to Mrs. Braham'S lawyer de-
handing an Immediate interview with
that lady; he specified the hour.
The lawyer went to her directly, the
matter being delicate. He found her in
great distress. and before he could open
| his communication she told him her
| trouble. She said that her husband,
she feared, was going out of his mind;
| he grOaned all night and never slept,
and in the daytime never spoke.
There had been just then some sur
| prising falls and rises in foreign securi-
! ties, and the shrewd lawyer OWNED at
once that the stOck-broker had been do
| ing business OH his own account, and
SOU plliClltu, oO ilC MY uCdl
am, 1 suspect it is business OH the Ex-
change; he will get over that; but there
| is something that is Immediately press
ing" and he then gave her Monckton's
message.
| Now her nerves were already excited,
and this made matters worse. She cried
and trembled, and became historical,
and vowed she would never go near
Leonard MOnckton again; he had never
loved her; had never been friend to
her as Jonathan Braham had. NO."
said she; IF he wants money, take and
sell my jewels; but shall stay with my
| husband in his trouble"
"IIe is not your husband" said the
lawyer, quietly; "and this man is your
husband, and things have come to my
knowledge lately which it would be inn
prudent at present to disclose either to
him or you; but we are old friends. You
cannot doubt that have your interest
at heart"
mo, / don't doubt that" said Lucy,
hastily, and held out her hand to him.
| well then" said he "be persuaded