The Birkenhead News and Wirral General Advertiser. — 1881-04-23 (Birkenhead, Merseyside, England)

FACE TO PACE.  " When a woman offers you her love," she said to me, "and you cast it from you, you make her your bitterest foe. She never forgets, she never forgives." "Her terms were haish and inexorable. I must leave this place for ever; I must abandon Dora." "With the blood of a young girl upon your head; you have no right to think of marriage. If you do marry, you meet marry the woman who holds your secret."  "Then I fled from the place; then I wrota that iscobereat latter to Dora. You can understand hew difficult it was for ma to give any reasonable explanation of my conduct." "I can," John lligg answered, "yours has indeed been a hard fate." "Elaine communicated with mu, from her I learnt that the authorities had offered a reward foi the identification of the man who had cast the stone, and that he was charged with wilful murder. Overwhelmed with horror and grief, I left Europe; I buried myself in strange lands. Not one of my old acquaintances knew of my whereabouts."  "I could describe to you my ceaseless sufferings; I might rehearse to you all the wild fears and hopes that have racked me. But it is not necessary. I have said enough. You can guess the rest."  "Your position is a most extraordinary one," John said slowly—he was looking into the fire and deep in thought--" and one which baffles advice." "But not sympathy. You said that if you had wronged me, you would take my hand." Reginald waited anxiously for his companion's reply. After a moment's hesitation answered gravely. "And I will keep my word. But— but—it is not easy to love the ballet that enters our heart, however innocent it may be. For the suffering you have caused me, I forgive y9n, and I will try —I will try very hard to forget." The two men shook each others hands firmly, but in silence. After a time Reginald said:  I, Rigg  I have no hope, you see. There is no hope for Dora or for me." " Are yon sure ?" asked John, reflectively, " is the position quite as bad as you fancy? Some, time -has now elapsed—"  tg Elaine Dubois lives. She swears that the day I marry Dora Dallas she denounces me. She will move heaven and earth to prevent this union. And, were it not so, dare I marry when at any moment my wife may be plunged into the direst distress by her husband's arrest upon the charge of murder." " You may prove your innocence?' _ . . _ .  "It is unlikely. My flight—:my own behaviour—points more to guilt than to innocence. But even if I succeeded, the charge would cling to me—it would seer Dora's heart—the charge itself is enough, even though it were net established."  " You should have confessed all to Dora."  " You are right. But when my selfpossession returned, and I recognised. this, I was miles away from her, and then—then it became too late." " Not too late. It is not too to late now. Do not hesitate, Reginald—do not hesitate a moment. Directly the poor girl grows stronger, tel? her all." "Yo a are right, I will. I owe you much for that advice. It will take a load from my heart. I could never before summon sufficient resolution to show her the dread past." For some time John Rigg remained very thoughtful: At length he said:  '7 Wheie is this womaii—this Elaine Dubois ?" " Here—in London." " I will see her." " You." " Yes," quietly, decisively. " You will do no good." " if you will allow me, I will see her."  "I am afraid that she has, by sore means or other, acquired an influence over Ernest. I will tell you presently