The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-09-11
to be in communication with Scotland

l remained. we having both moved. down from Pera 70 Therapia, that pleasant resort on the Bosphorus. about twelve miles from the capital. The money l had drawn from the bank on the af- ternoon of my departure from London was, however, now running very low and in order not to betray our where abouts I saw that I must return and send my friend further supplies.
 As each day passed, until we were we'll into September. I felt an increas- ed desire to return to England. for, truth to tell I seemed inlpelled to- ward the girl whose brown eyes held me in such fascination. Granny, how ever. dreaded being left alope again.
 Exile here, without you. Phil, is unbearable," ne declared bitterly. "I'm a cosmopolitan. as you know and I'm used to being alone in unfamiliar places. but then England was free to me to return whenever I became seiz- ed by that most extraordinary of all l ualadies we call nostalgia. Only these who've suffered from it know l the awful Yorld-weariness it produces how Gods beautiful sky aud sunshine pail upon one and how the fairest scene on earth becomes ugly and un- | interesting when one recollects the | humble home in rural England. or the smoke bla ckened lions of Trafalgar l Square. Ah!'' he went on, 'you may | laugh at me. Phil. I see it in your face r But some day, when you experience it, as I. alas! have done-when you long for home and dear ones, after a weary exile-you will know what home sickness really neans" 1 "I hope my departure will not bring on an attack said in seriousness. 1 Tt will. The knowledge that you leave by the Orient express tomorrow has already created a yearning to re- turn.''
 Be patient. old fellow. Remain here in safety I urged. "As long as | Myra's faith in you is unshaken, why need you fear? Leave mattens to me.
 eff were innocent I would have nc dread of the future." he said betweer his teeth, his hands clenched in des- peration "Ah! Phil! Youkdon't know! I haven't told you all"
 sNo-that's just where you are un- fair with me- I declared in a voice $of complaint. 'I'm trying to do all can to assist you and yet you refuse to tell me the whole truth!"
 "Because I can't Ra1ston!' he de. clared breathlesly
 You can," responded, rather harsh 1y.
 ".But I can't tell you what I don'1 | know; and don't know the whole truth he protested.
 "You can tell me all that you actual ly know and leave it to me ito dis cover the rest"
 1 "I-I can't, Phil. won't-so please don't ask me. An! my God!" cried the guilty man, holding out his hands Spare me. if you are really my friend.''
 | Answer me one question. Who was the woman who called on Garshore al the Cecil that night?"
 Lydia Popescu. of course"
 "Then the woman now dead was moi | the woman by whose influence Soutzc l withheld the concession from you?" demanded seriously, noting how pale | and haggard was his countenance. He nodded in acquiescence. 1 'swhat occurred afterward?" I ask 1 ed.
 "How can I tell?" he moaned. "Thert was a plot-is not that evident?" I "A plot that had for it's object the taking of a woman's life!'' I remark ed: adding. "Has it never occurred tc you that that blackguard Garshore h&c every motive in getting rid of her After she had served his purpose ir l obtaining the concession in Roumanis she was only an incubus-and proba- bly, was exorbitant in her demands fol money as payment for her services? 2
 @No,'' was his decisive answer you're wrong there. He had every motive that Lydia should live. The motive that she should die was mine d for I hated her."
 Already he had admitted his guilt Therefore what had I to say?
 Look here, Granny!" exclaimed al last. There must be some way out of this. How can help you?"
 By continuing to supply me witt funds, so that I can remain in exile and live in secret in some out-of-the way hole" was his bitter reply. "Rut I want to clear you-to prove an alibi."
 "How can a guilty man do that?' he asked. You're speaking of pipt dream, old boy,'' he added. with { catch in his voice.
 I reflected for some moments. If ht knew Lydia Popescu better than h' had at first admitted to me-and thi: seemed so-he would surely know hel maid. the woman Marie Lebas. Sh' Il had been mystery throughout tine i whole affair: having disappeared be fore the crime. all subsequent effort! of the police to trace her having prov ed futile. 4 According to Cunliffe. only three per sons had ever seen her in England 1 therefore tue police were sadly handi capped in their seaNch. An appeal hat l. been made to her by Scotland Yard tt induce her to come forward and volun
 teer a statement, but all to no pur pose. She was either far away 1T some distant land and had not seer d the appeal or else she feared to fact