The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-06-30
Tales of Ten Travellers.
 A GUINEA FOR A GHOST
nY EDGAR l.. wAKEMAs. Copyright. 1894. All rights reserved.l

e I was standing beside the Italian porch of the beautiful Church of St.
 Mary the Virgin. at oxford. when the
 full meaning of young Lord Neville's
 words of the morning was first real
 Ized.
 At that moment I saw him dash past
 )n his brougham. and at his side was
 Inc scared. white face of the woman we both loved.
 I called to him and <o her. She
 looked pitifully back toward me. and yeened to plead with the man beside her, while Lord Neville gave me a haunting and triumphant glance as his
 roachman lashed the horses Into fu-
 rious pace. clutched at the Iron gate
 way for support, but when could look
 again they were gone.
 Then I staggered back to our apart ments in Beaumont street. It's gay as- pect seemed wholly changed. The sun yhone brightly. The rich facades were ls dazzling as ever. Even the hand Bome house where we all had lived ptood there as stately and grand as Turing all the years Lord Neviile's mu- hificence had made 1t our home. But as I rang the bell its sound started me. It seemed as though death had entered Beaumont street and had furled It's sa- ble pinions around this one abode.
 Indeed something like death ever broods where noble friendships are broken.
 Even Richard, our joint valet, who answered my summons, had the woebe- gone look in his face of a funeral mute as he ushered me into our once dear old library. The very. statues and stat uettes gazed ghostily at me and the bindings of the books had dead, re- pellant air. The room was stifling, and I asked Richard to throw open the sash and let in the street sounds and the sunlight.
 "Wery sorry. MT. Newton, fur his 1udship's -doin's; very sorry! Faint 1ike him. It come on me like a blow, sir; so it did,"
 let him rambie on; for could not lake heart to question him then.
 After your quarrel with his ludship, 1his mornin', MT. Newton, when you rornered him as to his intentions to- wards Miss Roberfa, he come'd back Hirecly, an says, he: Richard, cut it 5hort. Have Sarah pack Robena's wardrobe at once. Have the brough- am ready at the door at two o'clock. ] wish to take bit O a drive wi Miss Robena. We mayn't come back. Un- 9erstand?
 Course I aint been with tn gentry tn' nobility, goin' on twenty year. thout .knowin' wat that means, sir. So says: Orders is orders, sir An he says: Rather An, says l. Do I, 1tay" An he ups an says: on dou- ble board wages, till you hears from me.' (Which will be?-' says ]. Whenever it is;' says he. At which he Surns to go out.
 "Wery sorry, MT. Newton, t tell you In rest" said Richard, with genuine Feeling; for I am sure he had grown to like me. told him gently enough I wished to hear it all.
 Well sir, he checked up bit scowl- )ng like. Then he walked around here, 'mong tn books, where you've all been DO happy together, sir: He then says: 'Crushin' tough' all the time looking pver your varsity papers an things; an' then. after mumblin' 'AlPs fair in love! he says: My regards an good byes to Newton. Just say t have him lave tn place for Lunnon, soon as con- an that there'n be no use u' rhasin' me an Robena: fur She goes Willin'r"
 Richard, do you believe that is lrue?" faltered.
 "see ere, MT. Newton; Lord Neviiles my master. I'm on double board wages No offense, but I 'ope you won't press that sort O questions"
 ''No, no, Richard. That's right;" answered dazedly. But may ask. is Robena's mother. Mrs. Hardie, still in sI
 "she left for Scotland on the mornin' lrain. sir"
 Lust this one more question, Rich ard. Answer it or not, as you like Did Mrs. Hardie know of Lord Me- ville's intention to make this sudden md secret departure with Robena?'
 "As to that. sir. can't say rightly. His ludship an she was together in th' garden, consultin' like, after your quarrel with his ludship."
 "Thank you, Richard" I returned, sick at heart and desperate in iny lone- iness. Can you get ny luggage ready for the evening tram to Lon Ion ?"
 Its ready now, sir. His ludship's orders, sir"
 It all still seemed like dream to me while huddled in corner of a of a train as it whisked put of the Oxford station on its tllun- lering way to London.
 Lord Neville and had been friends It Eton together. Oxford and Christ Church college were the natural se- ,uence. was but a vicar's son: Ne yiile would some day become duke. When hesitated about Oxford, on ac- ,ount of the great expense, he slm- ply said in his royal way: Fob New on. until we have won our degrees, here shall be a common purse!'
 Iloved the fellow blindly. He was the Inly titled stripling I had ever known without single vice. Commons" at | he college became tiresome at last, md after our .'twelve-terlns within valls'' were done. 1t came natural tor