Denbighshire Free Press

BE GUIDED BY THE LABEL. Serious Illness Renewed by Cheap Imitation bile beans. Rescued Again and Completely Cured by the Genuine Chas. Forde's Bile Beans. The terrible risk an invalid may run through taking a cheap substitute pill instead of the genuine medicine, has been shown by the pain- ful experience of Mr. Henry Miller, of 28, Denevor Street, Fredworth, Gloucester. To a Birmingham Echo reporter he said :— I was being rapidly cured by CHAS. FORDR'S Bile Beans, of biliousness, dizziness, and faint- ing, which had lasted for 16 years. One day, however, my wife was sold a pill which proved later to be onlv an imitation bile bean. When I had been taking thete a day or two I found to my dismay that I had received a set- back, and that my health was again seriously failing. So wonderfully good had been the effect of CHAS. FopDK s Bile Beans, I could not under- stand this. So I hid the box in which the pills were packed brought to me, when I found that they were not CHAS. FORDL'S Bile Beans at all, but an imitation as well as a worthle-s substitute. Happily I at once secured some of the gen- uine world-famed CHAS. FORDE'S Bile Beans, l which alone eventually made a complete cure." Mr. Miller's experience shows how necessary it is that you should refuse to accept any box without CHARLF.S FORDE'S on the label. Remember always that the genuine CHAS. T:"OKUF. s are not sold loose or in small packets. £ Jhas. Forde's Bile Beans, the original -,id world-famed medicine are sold by chemists in sealed iji% or 2/9 boxes, bearing "CHARLES P ORDE s" pi in ted in black on a faint yellow label; or obtainable from The Bile Bean Mfg. Co., 45, Cow Cross St., London, E. C.

[ALL UlUliTS KKSJSllVttl).] THE ORCIIID ROOM. By MKS. L. T. MEADE Author of The Modioino Larlv," Stories from the Diary of a Doctor," "From the Hand of > the Hunter," His Mascot," &e. CHAPTER XXV. I awoke. I don't know what the time was. It seemed to me that I had only been sleep- ing for a few minutes. I awoke with every sense on the alert. Was there a noise in the room? I heard nothing. It was my own heart that was beating uncomfortably fast and loud. I suddenly remembered that in order to switch on the electric light I should have to leave my bed. There v. as a stupid omission in this room, in consequence of which there was 110 accommodation for electrie light close to the bed, as was the case in every other room in the house. I did not want to leave my bed. My heart bent still louder. I felt exceedingly afraid. Then I heard a faint noise. It must have been my own heart. How "illy of it to beat so loudly I heartily wished the clock would strike. I remembered with intense vividness where I was. I could not have been asleep more than half-an-hour. I was in the Orchid Hoom-the I rOOlll of horror. I was alone there. It was scarcely likely that Justinian was within call. He would not be allowed to drag his mattress through the house in the dead of the night in order to protect me. I was undergoing a test. A test, to be worth anything, must he borne alone. To confess the truth, I did not, at that moment, feel equal to it. I bitterly re- pented having submitted to it. I felt as though I were glued to my bed. I could no more get up than I could fly. I thought of Zack, of his ugly, malicious face, of that fear- ful laugh he had given, and his injunction to me to repreat .the Lord's Prayer. I thought of the stories which Salome had told me of the girl who hatf lost her reason in that room and of the man who had died there. What j was the matter? Then, all of a sudden. I realised that the Test was about to be applied. I was about to be subjected to the extreme of anguish I was about to be led up to mortal fear. There came that noise again. It was not the beating of my henri. it was something else, and it was within the room. I could not cry out; I could not stir a limb. Cold deN- Ftood out on my forehead. I kept my eyes wide open. I longed to shut them, but did not dare. The noise was followed by a faintly growing light. This light was at one end of the room in. fact, the whole of that end of the room oppo- site t« the fireplace was now mysteriously I illuminated. j This light enabled me to se-c the old cup- board in the wall which Sir Claude had opened on the evening when he took me up to the Orchid Room. I had forgotten all about that cupboard until th;« moment, for it was very cleverly concealed by the decorations of the room. [ Now I observed the door slowly open. I wondered how this eould be, but the mys- terious light was so arranged that I could look witliiii. The sheivcs had all been re- moved. The cupboard was long, and at first, j as I looked into it. seemed bare. But now something happened. A long, thin, hairy hand, with nails nlmrst- like claws, reached out from the cupboard. In the hand was! grasped a sharp and very thin knife. At this siglit I (s,,tt til) in I)cd. rooted to the -st)ot, ter- rified, unable to oi, call out. The door in the cupboard opened farther, and a man 1 appeared whom 1 had certainly never seen before. His body was short, but he had long legs and arms, and a head set well forward. His face was horrible in shape and expres-' sion, his foreheutl \'(''V low, and the under jaw protruded. His hair was long caul tangled, falling partly over his face. This awful apparition dragged after it into the room a heavy load. which I immediately perceived to be the body of a young girl. He > was holding the girl by her hair. Then the fearful creature moved across the room, still dragging his burden. Vfiien he reached the centre, and just where the light ws strongest, he seized the girl and. lifting her high in his arms, flung her to the ground with. extreme violence, and, springing upon her, plunged his lon knife into her bod-1- :1 tiiese reanul things took place without the slightest noise. At that moment the creature suddenly looked and saw me where I sat, crouched up in bed. Immediately | his expression changed to thut of fury, and. pushing the body of the g:rl ,back into the cupboard, he turned townrds me. Before he could reach me. however. I had got bac-k a little of my courage. I im-ew where the electric light could he turned on. I would make for it. I would not he killed in the dark. With the most violent effort of my whole life I reached the place. But as I j did so the light increased, and the awful i being who had murdered the girl made a sud- den leap towards me. I thought he touched In-C. I remembered no more. CHAPTER XXVI. Where was I? A sweet, faint smell of violets assailed my nostrils. There was a gentle and refreshing air surrounding me. I opened my eyes. How heavily they v.ere weighted At first I could see nothing dis- tinctly, then I observed two faces be.'id'ug over me. One was the gentle, the kind, the aoorable face of my own mother; the other belonged to Denis Wurd. "Where am I? What has happened?" I said. c.1 my mother, in her sweet voice—tluu all-sustaining, gentle voice • which had been my prop since babyhood, t Y(,tt not talk much yet. darling. You are belter you aN going to get quhe well, j Denis, leave the room." But, instead of obeying. Denis Ward drew a chair forward and sat down close to me. 1 He took my thin hand in his and held it i-cry firmly. When lie touched mv hand I felt course of my life. Whatever I may have en- i dured in the past was more thai: compensated for by this moment of exquisite blisi- I asked no questions I woedered. a: nothing. As a matter of fact, I remembered noiliing except that he wus there and that 1 loved him. My mother came and gave me some nourishment, and then I dozed away into sleep, fetill with Denie's hand clasped round mine. The next day I was better. I could open my eves with more ease. I could look around me. I saw a strange, professional-looking man come into the room and say: "Capital, capital She will do, Mrs. Trcherne." And I guessed by his manner and bearing that he was a doctor; and there was a nice, tall, gentle-faced woman dressed as a nurse, who came backwards and forwards and attended to 111 v comfort.. I felt no surprise at anything. I could not even guess where I was. Whenever I was the slightest bit rest less mother would steal out of the room. and in her place Denis would come and sit near me and hold my hand. Then I grew very quiet, wanting for nothing. The first day passed like this, the second, the thrd-oh: perhaps many days, for I could take no account of time. By degrees, however, there came an afternoon when I was decidedly better. The overpowering sense of lassitude left me. 1 found myself alone with mv mother. I roused myself and said, I am better." You are, thank Heaven, Belinda," was her answer. I "I shall soon be quite well." I continued. "We hope so; the doctor thinks so," said my mother. I am 110 longer sleepy," I said, restlessly. I am much stronger. I want to lalk." "No. 110," said my mother then; "you must not be excised." I promise not to be excited," I said. | •'But aniiWtr a few questions." Yes, dearest." To begin with Where am I? "At 44. Garland-square." To begin with Where am I? "At 44. Garland-square." I don't know this room," I said. I gA7eci roeiid at the furniture. My brows I beg-ta to kiiit. Some slight. vry filiglit waves of me.nory were coming over me. It is a pretty and quiet room, and there is a dressing-room attached. It is called the Cowslip Room." said my mother. "Have I been ill?" I asked then. Yes very ill." "What has been the matter with me7" I will tell you when you are better. Dun e, would like to sit with you for a little now." r, At that moment the door was opened and Denis came in. He sat down near me. The nurse took up her position in a distant part of the room. She was doing some fancy needlework. Mv mother went out. What are you worrying about. Belinda': eaid Denis. I am putting my memory together," I i d. Don't do that," he replied and he laid his soothing, most soothing, nund across, my forehead. "But," I continued, thosp waves of memory returning more and more quickly, wit-you were—you are be— married—now?" No. Belinda." No? I inquired. "2\0." he repeated, and he looked full fit me. and smiled into my e¿-('oh! such a smile of love, such a smile of strength, and of hope I was too weak to colour, too weak to elearlv understand all that his look, more than his words, meant. After a little pause he bent towards me. Get well as fast as you can. You are doing famously. But you have bad a shook, and the doctor says you must be kept quiet and free from all excitement for the present, When you are well enough you will hear something which will surprise you very much. Until then, rest assured that you are in the best care in the world, and that no possible harm can come to you." "I am in Garland-square," I replied-" in 44, Garland-square, ancl-" He laid his hand again on my forehead, and the soothing influence he always had over me compelled me to close my eyes and to sink again into slumber. I I must have been three weeks recovering convalescence; but at last there came a day j when I was well enough to sit up bv the win- dow, and I felt I could not allow any longer dow, and I felt I could not allow any longer time to elapse for that story to be told me. "Mother," I said, "I remember every- thing up to a certain point. I want to know all that happened afterwards. But, first of all, tell me, how is Sophy? You wired to say that she was ill." Sophy is staying at Wimbledon, and she is better," said my mother. Now listen to me, Belinda. You have had a very startling experience, and but for the great care you instantly got you might not be as you are now." Her significant words caused me to shudder. But you are quite, quite safe, my darling." continued my mother. Y'ou have escaped. But you must not hear the 6tory u which Denis will tell you until the doctor gives permission." I cannot rest until I know." I said. At first when I came to my senses I did not care to know it was sufficient that you were here and that he was here. Beyond those two facts, nothing mattered at first Now a great deal matters, and I want to kiiow-I must know- I am restless without knowing." Ttit,, ttit my dear young lady. What worcle, are voice; and the elderly doctor who had been attending me entered the room. "Belinda wishes to know the truth," said mv mother. Well, ilrs. Treherne, the truth, as a rule, hurts no one," was the doctor's response. Why, you are getting on famously. Miss Treherne—strong pulse, clear eyes, strength returning every hour. You will soon be oui and about." I riel very restless, doctor. My memory has come back." "That is an excellent hearing." said the doctor. Y'ou—you rccall-" He looked hard at me. "Need I put it into 11 Bv no means. But what I want to know i-, What followed? I remember standing by the mantelpiece stretching out my hand to switch on the electric light, something awful leaping upon me. and then utter darkness." The doctor felt my pulse again. Have a cup of strong beef tea." he said. Nurse, get some beef tea for the patient; afterwards I give you permission, Mrs. Treherne, to act according to your own discretion." Denis must tell the story," said my mother, and he must tell you in his own wav." "I think," said the doctor, "it will do Miss Treherne good to be carried into the dressing-room. The air there is quiie fresh, and she will enjoy her beef tea and after- wards have an interview with Mr. Ward in that room. See that it is done. I will not call this evening unless I am sent for." He went away. His directions were carried out. I was carried on a sofa into the cheer- ful and beautifully-furnished dressing-room. It had really been arranged as a small sitting- room. I now remarked on the silence of the I house. The gnv, high,pitehed voice of Salome was not heard. Justinian's gruffer tones were never manifest. Even the baronet's squeaky voice would have been wcicome. The gel- vanfs too who attended on me were strangers. I felt that the house was empty. Mother." I eaid, as she bent over me, "where are all the others? Where is Sir Claude Malcolm, and—and Pearl, and the rest of the family ? That is part of the story which Denis will tell you." replied my mother. Then Denis came in and sat down by me. j As lie did so. my mother left the room. We. Wer alone together. Look at me. Belinda." he said. T turned and fixed niv eyes on his face. My engagement with Pearl Malcolm is j broken off. I hoped this might be {.(visible j when I went to visic fmy uncle. Lord Nor- breck. You will wonder, dear, why 1 ever en- gaged myself to a girl whom I could not love, who was. in fact, less than nothing to me- how I could engage myself to her when Denis paused. His eyes were eloquent. After a moment he continued: The facts are simply these. The Norbreek property has been in the greatest difficulty, and my poor old uncle wrung a promise from me to'immy a rich girl, and by so doing to clear off the mortgages. He secured that promise from me, Belinda, when I wi-.<? indifferent to \U women, and had not met you again. l'arl on :U-. :.h fuUtT" L: NrVjie-Jl. The 'I- mow; Tortune with which Sir Claude "\I:coTm would endow her would cause all money troubles to be swept aside. In a weak moment I yielded to my uncle's entreaties, and came to this hou.e prepared to be the euitor of Miss Malcolm. I met you. It only needed one glance into your eyes to tell me Ah Belinda, how can I go on." Again he broke down. I had never seen himcill this mood before. After a time he resumed his story. 1 must take up the thread of my narra- tive ns best I can." he said. I went to visit my old uncle, who, tus you know, was sup- posed to be dying. But. Belinda—dear Belinda !—two wonderful things happened during that brief visit. One this. A new doctor, a great specialist from London, came to see the old man, and spoke of an operation which, if quickly performed, might save his life for many long years. He is not yet seventy. The operation was successful. He may live for a dozen years or more—he may live to be very old indeed. In addition to this, there has just been discovered on the property a rich coal seam. Money has been found to work it. and all Lord Norbreek>• financial difficulties arc at an end. He will live and lie 11:16 begged of me to forgot the promise 1 had given him. I told him of my engagement. He counselled me to return here and tell the truth to Claude. Dear Belinda. I am very far from being a rich man. I lian-c a moderate income, enough to satisfy myself, and. perhaps, a girl who fills my heart and fills my mind. But I should be a poor match for a millionaire's daughter like Pearl Malcolm. I told her everything on my return, and she promptly refused to have anything what- ever to do with me. I alit, therefore, for all I am worth, at your service. "Will you forget the past, and—in some ways—the sorry part I played? And will you ttik-, a poor man just to be your very own, for better, for For I love you. and I never loved her. Tell me, Belinda, do you love me enough to marry me—and soon? Oh. Denis I answered. I took his hand and looked up into his face. Then I said I am so very happy that you are poor. I should hate to feel that you are rich. I love you with all my heart, and soul. and strength." I know all about the Test," he con- tinued, holding my hand very tightly while he spoke-" the awful test to which you were subjected, and the price you were to c L if you succeeded. You failed, you know, rt Ie I Belinda. You didn't earn your ten thousand pounds." I know that." I srswered, and tears came into my eyes. I thought myself strflng. But I was not strong enough for that." I shud- dered at a certain remembrance. "If YOU want me. I have only myself to give you." And that is just how I should like to have you." he replied; "ju6t your precious dear »elf, with nothing else at ail. We couldn't have endured Sir Claude Malcolm's money." Then I lay very still. his hand clamping i-,iine. and if there N"" as a liapl)y girl in all ti world it was I—Belinda Treherne. I was 60 happy that. after a pause, I said: I won't hear the other story at all to-day. It is enough to know that I am yours, and you are mine." Very well." he answered. "But won't you see Salome and Justinian for a minute? They have called every day—poor children and are so anxious to see you." Oh, I should love to see tlieni I an- swered. He left the room, and a minute or two later brought the two children in. Salome had grown tall and was very thin. and her little face was full of anxiety. It puckered up. and she very nearly burst into tears when she saw me. Then she fell oil her knees and bent down and kissed my hand quite reverently. Why, Salome I said. You are safe," said Salome. The old cat's gone away, that's one comfort. She and Pearl have gone back to Paris. Slic- wants to catch a French Count for Pearl. I daresay J she will. If she fails, she'll go an to Ger- many. and try for a Baron. Pearl's verv pretty at first, isn't she? And so you are going to marry Denis? Yes." I answered. It's beautiful said Salome. You will ask me sometimes to come and stay with you, won't you? I certainly will. darling." "Would you greatly mind if I kissed him?" said Salome. "I love him passion- afely too. I toU him so the other day. and he said he didn't^oind. if you didn't." Denis, come here." I said. Salome wants to kis.s you. She is my dear, dear little friend, and she must be yours too." If vou are my friend. Salome." said Denis, looking kindly fit the child, von will have to take precious good care of Belinda." Oli, m,on't I itict said Salome. He kissed her gravely. She coloured, and a more thoughtful light came into her eves. "Justic, come here." she said the next I minute. "Oh! Justie, don't you remem- ber-" I "'Course I remember," said Jusiinian. "And you're a perfect gnby to talk of such things before her r.ow. Why, she's aft white as death. Glad you've escaped. Miss Tre- lwrne-glacl you're going to marry him. You're awfully handsome still, you know, al- thollgÍl Y01 want a bit of that fine colour you used to have. Come away, v,"ell.,e not going to worry her now any more with our nonsepfie." The boy and girl slipped out of the room, and I really forget how the rest of the dav passed. But the next day I was well enough, quite well enough, to hoe.r what immediately followed the moment of my loss of conscious- ness. Denis told me in a few words. As soon as I got your telegram." he sa i(l, "I immediately made arrangements to take the very next train back to'town. I found that I could arrive at Garland-square a little before three o'clock in the morning. I wired to you that you would be safe and protected by me at three. My intention was to stay outside the Orchid Room. I entered the house. Justinian let me in. I had taken the precaution to wire to him ..160, knowing that he was on your side. As soon as ever I got in we both went up and waited outside the Orchid Room. Suddenly we heard a scream, and immedi- ately burst open the door and rushed in. The room was in complete darkness. I turned on the electric light, and we saw to our horror that you were lying senseless on th.e floor. But we also discovered something else. There was 110 ghost, dear. no ghost at all. The whole horrible thing that terrified you. and rendered you unconscious, was caused bv -Ille, human means. We entered the room unex- pectedly, and as we were doing so Justinian saw a man's legs disappear up the chimney. The first thing. however, was to look after you, and we instantly conveyed you out of the room and took you into the room which was prepared for me—the Cowslip Room. This I room is in the same wing of the house. I I awoke the servants and also Sir Claude Mal- colm. telling him in no measured terms what I R terrible thing had occurred, and what I thought of his conduct in forcing any girl to sleep ill such a room. I found, however, that the poor man was himself as much sinned against as sinning. He was horribly afraid of the supposed ghost, but at the time struggled not to believe in it. He had bought the house for a very small sum of money, for it had remained unoccu- pied during many years. The house belonged to a rich old Duchess, hut she could get no one to live in it. Sir Claude bought the house for what, considering irt, value, was a mere I song. He professed not to believe in the gliont, and tried to hush up all rumour with regard to it. But he had extreme difficulty in I getting servants. I have had the whole storv from hit; own lips. He said tli- ',t but for Zack r he could never have filled the house %i it i proper staff of domestic- servants. Zack Yates, however, assured him that there was not the slightest fear of any ghost, offered to help him in the kitchen premises, and, in snort, unprepossessing person that he was. in- duced other servants to come to 44. Garland- ( square. Where Sir Claude was powerless, Zack .seemed to be all-powerful. Sir Claude, of com •. g::v»> erv hich. 'v;u: Mil the servants did not like the place. Toe •••- port of ihe e\i«-.s-e-i<V5 of a irhost or 60:.kiein.; esUv.-jyir more and more wlclely spread. Fvir Claude not to I think he will give his own reason presently for this. lie had the house repapered. repainted, and all the old furniture moved to the attics, hoping thereby to lay the obnoxious ghost for ever. There was one special room. however, j which was not completely redecorated. When Sir Claude arrived at the house, the walls of this room were white. He objected to this colour, and proposed to have it painted or papered according to a scheme of his own. But here Zack Y ats interposed, and, 8B usual, had his way. Anything might be done to the room in the way of redecoration pro- yided the walls were left white. This was, in short, the Orchid Room. There was no doubt that the disagreeable occurrences connected with the old house seemed to find their origin in this room. People were afraid to sleep there. Queer lights were seen at intervals in the place. It was reported that a girl had lost her senses in that room, and that a. man had died there. Sir Claude often spent his time in the room examining it carefully. One day, he dis- covered the loose panel at the back of the cupboard. He read the writing on it. and, astonishing as it may seem, believed in it. From that moment his whole mind was ab- sorbed in the idea of getting someone—fresh, strong, and with excellent nerves—to sleep in the room, and so fulfil the conditions which were necessary to lay the ghost. Well, Belinda, he found you. You arrived. You know all that happened. When the time was ripe he oAcred you a temptation. You were not strong enough for that horror. Now I will try and "explain in a few words what really occurred. What you saw. dear, was nothing supernatural; but I really think it was much worse. I don't believe the cruellest ghost that ever lived could have been as cruel as the people who invented so diabolical a plot as to endanger life and reason. Now listen. There are under this old house many vaults and cellars. The largest of these vaults goce far underground, and was taken possession of many years ago by ft gang of coiners, who worked night after night making false money. The cellar in which they worked was so cleverly concealed that the police could get no clue to their whereabouts. They were able to enter through a small grating which opened at the exterior, and the man, Zack Yates, was their tool, and knew all about their proceedings. Nothing annoyed these coiners more than having 44. Garland- square occupied, and they conceived a plan for frightening away any people who took the house. They did thife by means of the ap- parition which you saw in the Orchid Room. This was arranged in the following ingenioue ay. "You noticed, did you not, on the nighl you slept there, that the fire was out in the grate? You thought, perhaps, that a servant had carelessly forgotten to attend to it; but the thing was done on purpose. Just behind the fireplace was a secret chamber, large enough for two men to stand upright in. From this chamber they had pierced a small hole through the wall opening into the bed- room just at the back of the clock which stood over the fireplace. The woodwork of the clock had a circular door behind, just oppo- site to the hole in the wnll. This door could easily be opened, and so skilfully as not to make the slightest noise. When the door was opened the pendulum of the clock was held to one side, so as not to intercept the vision which was to be thrown on the opposite wall. In the secret chamber a magic lantern was so placed that when the door in the clock was opened it eould throw a picture into the bed- room on to the wall at the further end. The reason of the wall being painted white was now apparent, for the picture would shew up on the white background easily and well. The coiners had managed the thing in this way. One day, when the house was un- used, they tock a complete cinematograph of the scene described, one of their number dressing up to act the part of the murderer. A daughter of one of the men took the part of the murdered girl. The camera was placed in the secret chamber, and photographs of the whole scene as it enacted were taken from there. The same scene could therefore be reproduced OIl the wall opposite at anv future time, and a person watching it from the bed would h&ve a lifelike though silent representation. Justinian and I found Zack Yates and hie I confederate that very night in the secret chamber, and forced the hideous confession from their lips. They shewed us the ap- paratus. and even reproduced the horrible picture for our benefit. Both men are in prison now. The coiners have been secured by the police. Forty-four, Garland-square is no longer haunted. Nevertheless, Belinda, j'ou and I will leave it in a few days forever." "Oh, yes—for ever!" I answered; and I hid my face againat his strong hand. I On the evening before I left Garland- square Sir Claude Malcolm came to see me. He looked very much shrunken, and old, and ashamed of himself. I "I never expect you to forgive me," he Mid. But I cannot rest easy until I make a brief explanation. I had no idea the sight was so horrible. The fact is, I took a fancv to the house and bought it -is a bargain. I knew that it was supposed to be haunted, and my friends assured me that I would not remain in it a month. I declared that I would, and a man I knew at my club laid a heavy wager on the matter that I should be out of the house or in a lunatic asylum within a year. I accepted the wager, and there was great excitement at the club as to whether I or my opponent would win. I got the place into what I considered first-rate order. But the longer I staved in it the more a certain atmosphere began to oppress mv nerves. I disliked Zack YT<afres, too, but could I not get rid of the brnrc. He was the lowest of the low. and yet seemed to be a certain power in the place. The servants would do anything for him, and I was downright afraid of him. One day I discovered the writing on the back of the panel in the Orchid Room. You may think me a foolish old man. but I be- lieved in that writing, and thought that if I could find anyone to fulfil the conditions the I ghost would be laid. I told you I did not be- lieve in ghosts when I fiaw you. but in mv heart of hearts I did. I advertised for a ¡ governess for Salome. I found you. Your ¡ answer to my advertisement pleased me. and I went to Cornwall <0 see you. -your ance pleased me still more. I offered ycu the post; you came. After watching you for a ti III-, I resolved to subject you'to the Test. It was far too terrible. It might have killed you or rendered you mad. Had either of these things happened I could never have held up my head again. "Well, my deašJ young lady, you hove escaped, and you will, of course." allow me to fulfil my part and place ten thousand pounds to your credit in the Bank of England." | But here Denis interfered. No." he said I neither Belinda nor I can touch your money. Sir Claude." Sir Claude looked full at us both. "As you please," he said, stiffly. I noticed that lie was pained. I was so happy myself that I could'not stand that ex- pression on the f:iee of another. Thank you all the same," I said, "but I have won wllat is twenty million times better than any money to me—the heart of Denis Ward." You will make him an excellent wife, and Pearl would have rendered him miserable." was Sir Claude's rejoinder. Well. 1 shall always lie glad to see you both here, and to do what I for you. j He did not take my hand again, but left the room. It is all over," eaid Denis. and you and I I will forget 44, Garland-square when we go j from here to-morro.v morning." [TILE END.} I

P"™ f\ ifh vnUtahie ftmm a g/s» ij. v.r.t.fcie A Breakfast Cup for a Id. OUR NEW SERIAL WILL COMMENCE IX THE 'Free Press' NEXT WEEK, OCTOBER 10. It is by that Clever Novelist, FRED WISHAW, and its Title is THE C a u 1 d e r s ufi oF Caxborough" FRED WISHAW has ma.de himself a favourite with thousands of readers in his former Serials, such as A LOST ABMY," "THE E.MI'KROU'S ENGLISHMAN- THE WHITE WITCH," IL HEn HIOMXESS," Moscow," ifcc. "THE CAULDERS OF CAXBOROUGH" is splendidly written, And will sustain the interest of the reader from the first line to the last. Begin this Absorbing Story NEXT lw WEEK. C,, ILJI -Dot" TEACHER'S fwmsKvl Jfjl "HIGHLAND S CREAM" (01AND effffy Mtttior ef Old Seoti WHISKY » So*' n cusoo* & m ft EXTRA ftWii Cxtka Jna»i -t arbrcry H £ v,r4.lu f Beirut QUriit) SPECIAL." lis ()}LlCK };OTTTE.) WHISKIES Quality never Varies. ;i ANDREWS & CO., The Old Vaults," High Street BOLE AGEN'l" FOB DENBIGH:" I OPTO REMARKABLE IjLIIW Co VALUE 'ft REAL KID GLOVES Made from fine selected skins, s wfcSl cut and sewn, good fitting. f li LACK, WHITE and COLORS. 'r '\a. !"IB¡" "ANTONIA" TiVifi "[OiLDRED" 2,3 66 "KARIETTE" m,3,3 g 6 M'U"<;uetairc» .1 White i»r Blacl: OiJv. AW/' D iiii.r-u t;rvJ iHwtrai**i{ /V'v List of al; l)^}>ariment ,ut .t t.() nny fl(J1!rnq. THE LONDON GLOVE COMPANY <>"V C45 £ 45A, CHEAPS;DE, E.C.VJ rtitnnij 82 & S3, KEW ec*>l3 ST., W. LU KKJUIla ill ———— RRJIIAUCOFCI cIorAliS: CIGAITETTEST. f-v uttnivn i:n.»!u n Hutiirrairj- L>T I'Hora. in. n van- iy »»t i.»'^nv'y G <♦«»<« :?»d shop T»i.« *1 r.<- <»niy Oj»»-»:np orders & Si* o»;ui v. S'U1..1 for J'r*k- i.»*i tr> any nf to S^GLV'I &. COU: I.TIV ('atmon Street. Birmingham.