The Springdale news., 1888-12-21

l ' dA.# Dimont, that you were from Stagshirer'
 Yes replied the stranger.
 Veil, that IS rather strange Fisher, of the Talbot, told me to-day that Lord Ogilvie, of Stagshire, is a guest at his house. l suppose you know something of his lordshipn
 Oh, yes, q littlc,n said the visitor; ''as much as . man could know by riding to hounds with him now and agaln, and pay ing him rent twice year. Still, I don't care to sec his lordship very particularly"
 During this short conversation Matthew Eldls pricked up his cars and murmurcd to himself: Lord Ogiliye9 Lord Ogilive! He must be a young man. and then leaned back in his seat pulling hard at his pipe. These were the last words the old fellow ever spoke in the parlor where he had been so familialIy known for twenty years
 Our friend Fisher entertains quite number of distinguished guests" remarked Alfred Hustler. "Sir James Perciyal, of Midshirc, has been at the Talbot for nearly q week past
 And HOW it was the stranger who was all attention, but hls anxious look passed un- noticed by the company and he said never q word
 Eleven o'clock came and one by one tho
 
 EldiS departed. It was still showing heav- fly, but the young Stagshire farmer said he would take q short walk before retiring He bent his steps along the deserted streets in the direction of the "Talbotn Hotel, just to look at the place in which he was evi- dentiy interested. "Nillain, ? he muttercd to himself, years ago you insulted my sister and fired OF me. let you go then and you tried to get me hanged for my pains and stole away my sister. Now that 1 have at last found you, you shall tell me where sfe is, or-.'' His words were left unfinished for at that moment two men came arm -in- arm along the street from the direction of DcrWcnt House, where. as they were ia evening dress; 1t is to be presumed they had been dining The young farmer knew them both. One was a young man of twentY-tWo or twcnty-three, to whom he said: " Good evening, my lordn The other he tapped upon the shoulder. sayng: "A word with you, Sir James, if you please"
 ell, be quick, man, was the reply. "This is DO night to stand out on the street talking. Who are you!9
 sI am George Foster, an honest man. You arc Sir James Douglas Percival, q con summatc scoundreln said the young farm CT " As you remark, il K nasty weather, and we will therefore waste no time. 1 know the rascal 1 have to deal with, and ill0le you can answer the question 1 have to ask you. Tell me, where is my sister, Rachel Foster."
 You may or may not be George Foster You may or may not have a sister; 1t makes not one morsel of difference to me. l will not answer your question: and will not say whether I can or no. will tell you for the second time. if you are George Foster that you are confounded fool-a low-life fool! Stand asdet,'
 :. Coward, defend yourself!" exclaimed Foster, at the same time skipping Pcrcival III the face. The men were pretty well matched both for size and strength Perc- yal who was older and slightly heavier, at tempted to throw the younger man and pass him, but Foster was his match, and quickly reganing hls feet, aimed one ter rife blow at Percival and struck him in the left temple, lntiicting deep wound. Per cival staggered and fell, and George Foster, thinking he had merely ' 'dOwned ' hlm, returned to the " Crown On the instant that Pcrcival fell to the ground a pistol-shot rang out through the wintry night, and the young Lord Ogilvie fell corpse out side the entrance to the Talbot Hotel Five min utes after, old Matthew Eldis walked into the polce-station with q recently discharged pistol in his hand He looked pale and hag gard. and ms eyes, usually so bright and sparkling, were sunkcn and bIoodshot He walked rp to the officer in charge and hand ed over his pistol.
 "You will find him. he sad. "outside the Talbot His father killed nly first born son and my wife. He blasted my life, and this young aristoerat, his son. has com menccd to tread in his fathers footsteps by