The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-03-13

ment would be familiar to me. l feli more than a presentiment, for suddenly like flash ot light the familiarity in the face was explained to me. could have given the name for him. Scarcely less agitated than the unfortunate man him. self, 1 stood, like some railway traveller, who has seen from the carriage window an approaching and inevitable collision, awaiting shock.
 "You may just as we'll tell the truth, ? said the man at the desk, "giving a false name will only do you harm, and give us the trouble of fading the right one" !"
 "l'm not liar or a murderer, replied the man with compressed lips, and speak ing in low, strained voice. had no more to de with that unfortunate mans death than you had. My name is- Claude Fancout."
 have said that was prepared for a shock, but none the less felt Its force apon hearing that name. ! staggered against the cold stone wall with a deep groan of anguish. The suspicion which had flashed upon me was confirmed, the familiarity of the features to me was ex- plained; the murderer was the brother of my Constance; that only brother whom l had never seen, and whose name was never mentioned without sigh from the daughter and iear from the mother. 1; had been briefly explained to me that the boy had always been wild and untract- able, and that after repeated warnings he had been expelled from college as ut- terly unmanageable, after which he had mixed with fast sporting set in London. He had not been at home for more than two years, during which they had heard but little, and nothing satisfactory, of him.
 Although it was beyond doubt that this man was the wild brother had heard of, l clung desperately to the hope that it was not so; that the name and the strange likeness 10 Constance were but strangely coincidentai. longed for fur ther proof, but, at the same time, l was anxious to conceal as much as possible from the police officers, whose attention had been attracted by my singular emo- tion. Leaning against the wall earnestly regarded the prisoner, my face ref1.cting the ghastly pallor of his own. He, toe, had observed my agitation, and he re. turned my gaze with one of strange in- quiry.
 An only son2 interrogated in low voice.
 He bowed affirmatively.
 The man at the desk continued his formal questions, which were answered without further hesitation, although the prisoner never averted his eyes from my face.
 was still unsatis6ed. wanted fur ther proof. but was at loss how to pro- cure it without mentioning names too sacred to be uttered within those walls
 A mother iving2' 1 asked suddenly.
 Again he bowed, look of intense pain passing over his face.
 Once more persisted, unheeding the agoAy inflicted.
 "An only sister2"
 A strong spasm seemed to shake him from head to foot.
 "Yes, yes" he cried wildly. Enough for Gods sake, enough ]"
 It was indeed enough, and in spite of pity swept over me fer the guilty man, But too well satisfied, forebore te ques- tion further, and In any case received a whispered rebuke from the inspector for my interference, rebuke which under less unusual circumstances would doubt. less have been earlier and more sharply administered.
 The examination over, he was con- ducted to a cell, but before leaving the room he turned to me for a moment, and said with some frmness: Tell them | nm innocent
 answered by gesture signifying that would.
 Would to God l were able to 1" cried in my heart.
 PARTH.
 During the remainder of that eventfu night, or rather morning, did not at tempt to rest it would have been utterly iruitless. l paced disorderly about my rooms, my mind perfect chaos. It was for Constance 1 suffered; 1t was the an. ticipation of the blow that was to fall on her that made me writhe and call aloud in my anguish 1t was the knowledge that no human agency could avert tha, blow that well-nigh drove me mad. can solemnly assert now that her brothers crime had not lessened my passionate love for Constance {; my feelings had un- dergone no change through the events oi the night, except that my undyine regard was now linked to a great yearning pity She was still as indissolubly mine; hei trouble bound me closer to her. Morning dawned and found me sitting at my table, my face buried in my hands. How long had remained in that atti. tude knew not, but when I rose fel, sick and weak, and my limbs trembled under me. My usual cold plunge some.