The Birkenhead News and Wirral General Advertiser. — 1895-10-05 (Birkenhead, Merseyside, England)

CHAPTER XLIV. ARMSTRONG'S NZWS.  That moment was--;;;-clesii-na' to be R fadetoe memory in the life of Talbot Strangemore. his after years there was no moment in 'which he could not by simply shutting his eyes, recall the time and place and scene—the strange, wierd camping ground beneath the tropical pali6-trees and luxuriant vegetation, the mystic murmur of old Nile as it flowed between it. banks in its grand strength and power, the hot breath of the Ithamsin as it swept somas the desert and burned their faces, and the glorious moonlight that ligLted the whole scene into mystic, solemn splendour with dark shadows hers and there cast fantastically by the stately palms. Blending with the tropical scene were the eager exalted faces of the men, and high above all rose the voice of John Armstrong as he exclaimed earnestly, and with a note of strong indignation in his clear, high voice: "My God, then, man, why do you dully in Egypt, when you are sorely needed at home? Do you not know that there is a price set upon your head?" A low hum of wonder and execration rose from the group of men. They believed Mat they had suddenly discovered another criminaL  Bob the next words of John Armstrong quickly undeceived them. "Do not be too hasty, comrades," he said, looking round at them with a smile, "You have not unearthed another murderer to-night. It is true that this man is sadly wazted at borne, and that there is a large reward offered dor his apprehension. There are two detectives hunting him all over Europe, and the vapors of Eurffpe and America all contain per' mash, inquiring for him. But in spite of all this flurry to apprehend him, this man although he has committed a cruel wrong, has done no sin that the law can reach with its august lash of justice!" t Strangemore regarded him in a strange dazed silence, while the others clamorously demanded to know what lie had done.  I John Armstrong answered with an inflection of acorn in his voice  • "He broke his young wife's heart by his foolish infatuation for another woman !"  The man before him bowed his handsome lead in bitter remorse and shame. . _ _ _  'You are right," he murmured, lowly and mournfully. "I am • wretch whose guilt, while it is beyond the pale of the law, carries milli it its own whip lash of retribution and remorse. I broke my darling's heart by my foolish plosion for a Yam coquette, and although she died by her own band I am as guilty of her death as if I had poured the poison into her oup and premed it to her lips with my own !head I"  They saw that be was in terrible earnest, that Ilia heart was crushed within him by .remorse and despair, and their first impulse of morn and contempt softened into the gentler emotion of pity. Armstrong said with decided :kindness in his voice: "I am glad to see that you are genuinely remorseful and repentant over your fault, Strangemore. Bob cheer up, man. You may yet be able to redeem yourself from the blight of your thoughtless folly." I In the moonlight Strangemore lifted his .dark, sad eyes, and looked drearily into Ann. Marong's face. " Redeem myself—and Nina dead 1" be said reproachfully. Armsteng answered, impressively: "You made • terrible mistake in leaving your home as you did. Your wife is not  "Nob dead," Talbot Strangemore shouted, hoarsely, and there was au& a passion of Joy and amazement in hie voice that touched a responsive chord of gladness in every manly brew*.  "Not dead," John Armstrong answered, gravely, and solemnly. "But she needs your presence, Talbot fitrangemore, for she is in the most terrible peril at the hands of the law. She IN in prison now and condemned to be hanged on the 26th of :lady for the murder of Aber Beautiful rival, Mrs. St. Alban I"