Many of the rivers of that region have a peculiar habit of disappearing, but the Truckee preserves its integrity until it enters Pyramid Lake. At the point where the accompanying sketch on the Truckee River was taken, the road skirts the stream very closely. The river dashes wildly over its rocky bed, and it is far from inviting to a navigator. Many of the bends in the stream are quite abrupt, and the train winds around them in a manner not altogether comforting to nervous persons. The Sierra Nevada mountains rise in the background, and seem to form a wall to prevent the westward traveler from reaching the Pacific coast. One who admires wild and magnificent scenery, will find this part of the route full of interest, and the rapidity of the changes leaves little opportunity for weariness. WATCHING. "I THINK I hear the sound of horses' feet, Beating upon the graveled avenue. Go to the window that looks on the street. He would not let me die alone, I knew." Back to the couch the patient watcher passed, And said, "It was the wailing of the blast." She turned upon her couch, and seeming slept, The long dark lashes shadowing her cheek, And on and on the weary moments crept, When suddenly the weary watcher heard her speak: "I think I hear the sound of horses' hoofs," And answered, ""Tis the rain upon the roofs." Unbroken silence: quite deep, profound. The restless sleeper turns. "How dark, how late! What is it that I hear? that trampling sound! I think there is a horseman at the gate." The watcher turned away, her eyes tear-blind: "It is the shutter beating in the wind." The dread night passed. The patient clock ticked on. The weary watcher moved not from her place. The gray, dun shadows of the early dawn Caught sudden glory from the sleeper's face. "He comes! my love! I knew he would!" she cried, And, smiling sweetly in her slumbers, died. CHAPTER VIII.-(CONTINUED.) WANT some money, Mr. North." Mr. "I-I have none by me, madame." "Nor check either. I don't happen to have a signed check in the house, and Richard is gone for the day." "What have I repeatedly told youthat you must keep money by you, and checks, too," was the stern answer. "Why does Richard sign the checks always? Why can't you sign them?" She had asked the same thing fifty times, and he had never been goaded to give the true answer. "I have not signed a check since Thomas Gass died, except on my own private account, madame; no, nor for long before it. My account is over-drawn. I shan't have a stiver in the bank until next quarter-day." "The bank would not cash it." "Why!" "Because only Richard can sign. Oh, dear, this is going over and over the old ground again. You'll wear me out, madame. When Richard took first acting place at the works, it was judged advisable that he should alone sign the business checks, for convenience sake, madame-for convenience sake. Gass's hands were crippled with gout; I was here with my flowers." "I don't care who signs the checks so that I get the money," she retorted, in a rude, rough tone. "You must give me some to-day." "It is for Sidney-I know it is for Sidney," spoke Mr. North, tremulously. "Madame, you are ruining that lad. For his own sake, some check must be put upon him; and therefore I am thankful that to-day I have no money to give." He took some short, hurried steps over the corners of paths and flowerbeds with the last words, and got into his own room. Madame calmly followed. Very sure might he be that she would not allow him to escape her. Ellen Adair, waiting for Mrs. Cumberland, had not felt the time long. Very shortly after she was left alone, the carriage. came back from the station, bringing Arthur Bohun-Richard had been left at Whitborough. Captain Bohun got out at the gates, intending to walk up to the house. Ellen saw him come limping along-the halt in his gait was always more visible when he had been sitting for any length of time-and he at the same time caught sight of the bright hues of the lilac dress gleaming through the trees. Some years back, the detachment commanded by Arthur Bohun was stationed in Ireland. One ill-starred night it was called out to suppress some local disturbances, and he got desperately wounded-shot, as was supposed, unto death. That he would never be fit for service again; that his death, though it might be a lingering one, was inevitable, surgeons and friends alike thought. For nearly two years he was looked upon as a dying manthat is, as a man who could not possibly recover. But Time, the great healer, healed him, and he came out of his long sickness and danger with only a slight limp, more or less perceptible. When walking slowly, or when he took any one's arm, it was not seen at all. Mrs. North (who was proud of her handsome and distinguished son, although she had no love for him) was wont to tell friends confidentially that he had a bullet in his hip yet, at which Arthur laughed. The sight of the lilac dress caused him to turn aside. Ellen rose and stood waiting; her whole being was thrilling with the rapture the meeting brought. He took her hand in his, his face lighting. "Is it indeed you, Ellen? I should as soon have expected to see a fairy here." "Mrs. Cumberland has gone to call on Mr. North; she told me to wait for her." "I have been with Dick to take my uncle and James to the station," said Captain Bohun, pitching upon it as something to say, for his tongue was never too fluent when alone with her. "He has been asking me to go and stay with him." "Sir Nash has?" "Yes. Jimmy invites nobody; he is taken up with his missionaries, and that." "Shall you go?" Their eyes met as she put the question. Go! away from her! "I think not," he quietly answered; "not at present. Miss Bohun's turn must come first; she has been waiting for me this long while." "That's your aunt." "My aunt. And a good old soul she is. Won't you walk about a little, Ellen ?" She took the arm he held out, and they paced the covered walks, almost in silence. The May birds were singing, the budding leaves were dancing-eloquence enough for them, and each might have detected the beating of the other's heart. "You told me that last week," she said, contemptuously. Madame had her ear glued to that closet door, and so missed "Draw, then, upon the firm account." He shook his head. the sight. A sight that would have made her hair stand on end. Minutes, for lovers, fly on swift wings. When Mrs. Cumber- | her father's parlor. He had been standing with the door land appeared, it seemed that she had been away no time. ajar, shrinking almost as much as Bessy, and utterly powerless Ellen went forward to meet her, and Captain Bohun said he had to interfere. just come from the station. Mrs. Cumberland, absorbed in her own cares, complaining of fatigue, took little or no notice of him; he strolled by their side up the Ham. Standing at Mrs. Cumberland's gate for a moment in parting, Oliver Rane came so hastily out of his house that he ran against them. "Oh, child! if I could but save you from this!" he murmured, as they stood together before the window, and he fondly stroked the soft hair that lay on his breast. "It's one of the troubles that are wearing me out, Bessy-wearing me out before: my time." He burst into tears; perhaps her own sobs set him on, and' "Don't push me over, Rane," spoke Arthur Bohun, in his they cried in concert. Bessy North was patient, meek, endurlazy but very pleasing manner. ing; but meekness and patience can both be tried beyond their "I beg your pardon. When I am in a hurry I believe I am strength. apt to drive on in a blindfold fashion." "Is any one ill, Oliver?" questioned his mother. "Oliver Rane wants you; you know that, Bessy. If he could see his way clear to keep you, you should go to him to-mor-"Yes; at Mrs. Gass's. I fear it is herself. The man who row. Ay, though your poor brother has just been put into his brought the message did not know." 66 You ought to keep a horse," spoke Captain Bohun, as the doctor recommenced his course. "So much running about must wear out a man's legs." "Ought!-oughts go for a great deal, don't they?" replied the doctor, looking back. "I ought to be rich enough to keep one, but I'm not." Captain Bohun wished them good-day, and they went indoors. Ellen wondered to hear that Mrs. Cumberland was going out again. Feeling uneasy, as she said, on the score of the sudden illness, she took her way to the house of Mrs. Gass, in spite of the fatigue she had been complaining of a long walk for her at any time. Arrived there, she found that lady in perfect health; it was one of her servants to whom Oliver had been summoned. The young woman had scalded badly her hand and arm. "I was at the Hall this morning, and Mr. North showed me the anonymous letter," Mrs. Cumberland took occasion to say. "It evidently comes from a stranger-a stranger to us. The handwriting is entirely strange." "So much the better, ma'am," heartily spoke Mrs. Gass. ""Twould be too bad to think it was writ by a friend." "Oliver thinks it was madame," pursued Mrs. Cumberland, dropping her voice. "At least, he has not gone so far as to say he thinks it, but that Mr. Alexander does." "That's just the word he gave to me, ma'am. Alexander thought it, he said, but that he hisself didn't know what to think, one way or the other. As well, perhaps, for us not to talk of it; least said is soonest mended." "Of course; but I cannot help recalling a remark once innocently made by Arthur Bohun in my hearing: that he did not know anybody who could imitate different handwritings so well as his mother. Did you"-Mrs. Cumberland looked cautiously round-" observe the girl, Molly Green, take her handkerchief from her pocket while she stood here?" "I didn't see her with any handkerchief," was the answer, given after a pause of reflection. "Shouldn't think the girl's got one. She put her basket on the sideboard there, to come forward to my geraniums, and she stood stock still while she looked at 'em. I don't say she didn't touch her pocket; but I never saw her at it." "It might have been. These little actions often pass unnoticed; and it is so easy for any other article to slip up unseen when a handkerchief is drawn out of a pocket," concluded Mrs. Cumberland, in a suppressed tone of almost trembling eagerness, which Mrs. Gass noticed, and did not quite like. But there's a little something yet to tell of Dallory Hall. When madame followed her husband through the giass doors into his parlor, an unusually unpleasant scene ensued. For once Mr. North held out resolutely. He had no other resource, for he had not the money to give her, and did not know where to get it. That it was for Sidney he well believed, and for that reason only would have denied it to the utmost of his poor feeble strength. Madame flounced out in one of her worst moods. Mrs. Cumberland's visit and the startling sight of Ellen Adair, had brought to her unexampled annoyance. As ill-luck had it, she encountered Bessy in the hall, and upon her, vented her dreadful temper. The short scene was a violent one. When it was over, the poor girl went shivering and trembling into grave." Bessy lifted her head. In these moments of dire emotion, the heart speaks out without reticence. "He thought you would not consider it so. I should, papa. And I think those who bravely set out to struggle on together have as much happiness in their shifts and economy as others. who begin with a fortune.". "We'll see-we'll see, Bessy. I'd like you to try it, if you are not afraid. I'll talk to Dick. But mind! not a word here," he added, glancing round at the door to indicate the precincts of Mrs. North. "We shall have to keep it to ourselves if we'd not get it frustrated. I wondow how much Oliver makes. a year." 66 Not much but he is advancing slowly. He has talked to me about it. What keeps one will keep two, papa." "He'll come into about two hundred a year when his mother dies; and I fear she won't live long by what she tells me. Poor Fanny! Not that I'd counsel anybody to reckon on dead men's shoes, child. Life's uncertain; he might die before her." "He would not reckon on anything but his own exertions, papa. He told me a secret-that he is engaged on a medical work, writing it all his spare time. It is quite certain to take, he says; to be popular, and bring him good returns. Oh, papa, there will be no doubt of our getting on. Let us risk it!" What a bright, hopeful tone she spoke in-let us risk it!-her mild eyes shining, the tears dried on her cheeks. Mr. North caught the glad spirit, and resolved-Dick being willing; sensible Dick-that they should risk it. CHAPTER IX.-IN LAWYER DALE'S OFFICE. HITBOROUGH was a good-sized, bustling town, sending two members to parliament. In the heart of it lived Mr. Dale, the lawyer, who did a little in moneylending as well. He was a short stout man, with a red, pimply face, and no whiskers, nearly bald on the top of his round head; and usually attired himself in the attractive costume of a brown tail coat and white neckcloth. On this same morning, which had witnessed the departure of Sir Nash Bohum and his son from Dallory Hall, Mr. Daleknown commonly amid his townsfolks as Lawyer Dale-was seated in his office at Whitborough. It was a small room, containing a kind of double desk, at which two people might face each other. The lawyer's place at it was against the wall, his face to the room; a clerk sometimes sat, or stood, on the other side when business was pressing. Adjoining this office was one for the clerks, three of whom were kept; and his clients had to come through their room to reach the lawyer's. Mr. Dale was writing busily. The clock was on the stroke of twelve, and a great deal of the morning's work had to be done yet, when one of the clerks came in-a tall, thin, cadaverous youth with black hair, parted into a flat curl on his forehead. "Are you at home, sir?" "Who is it?" asked Mr. Dale, growling at the interruption. "Mr. Richard North ?" "Send him in." Richard came in-a fine looking man in his deep black clothes- the lawyer could not help thinking so. After shaking hands-a ceremony Mr. Dale liked to observe with all his clients, they being agreeable-he came from behind his desk to seat himself in his dwarf elbowchair of red patent leather, and gave Richard a seat opposite. The room was small, FASHIONABLE YOUNG LADY OF CUZCO.-PAGE 337. "Do you know for what purpose he wanted the money?" "For his young brother, Sidney North. A fast young man that, Mr. Richard," added the lawyer, in a signi ficant tone. "Yes, unfortunately." 64 Well, he had got into some secret trouble, and came praying to Mr. Edmund to get him out of it. Whatever foolish ways Edmund North had wasted money in, there's this consolation remaining to his friends-that the transaction which eventually sent him to his grave was one of pure kindness," added the lawyer, warmly. "My father has enough trouble, Dale,' he said to me; what with one thing and another, his life's about worried out of him; and I don't care that he should get to hear of what Master the desk and other furniture large, and they sat nearly nose to | Sidney's been doing, if it can be kept from him.' Yes, the Richard held his hat on his knee. motive was a good one." nose. 'How was it he did not apply to me?" asked Richard. "Well, had you not, just about that time, assisted your brother Edmund in some scrape of his own?" Richard North nodded. 66 'Just so. He said he had not the face to apply to you so soon again-should be ashamed of himself. Well, to go on, "Yes, and I have come here to ask you to give me all the in- Mr. Richard North. I gave him the money on the bill, and when formation you can about it." it became due neither he nor Alexander could meet it; so I "But, my good sir, I have no information to give. I don't agreed to renew. Only one day after that the anonymous letter possess any." "I ought to have said information of the attendant circumstances. Let me hear your history of the transaction from beginning to end; and if you can impart to me any hint of the possible writer-that is, if you have formed any private notion of him-I trust you will do so." Mr. Dale could be a little tricky on occasion; he was sometimes engaged in transactions that would not have borne the light, and that most certainly he would never have talked of. On the contrary, he could be honest and truthful where there existed no reason for being the con trary, and this anonymous letter business came under the latter category. "The transaction was as open and straightforward as could be," spoke the lawyer -and Richard, a judge of character and countenances, saw he was speaking the truth. "Mr. Edmund North came to me one day some short time ago, wanting me to let him have a hundred pounds on his own security. I didn't care to do that-I knew about his bill transactions, you see-and I proposed that somebody should join him. Eventually he came with Alexander, the surgeon, and the matter was arranged." found its way to Dallory Hall." "You are sure of that?''' WOMAN OF THE LOWER ORDER, CUZCO.-PAGE 337. "I never spoke of it to a single soul," impetuously cried the lawyer, giving his knee a thump with his closed hand. And Richard North felt sure that he had not. "The transaction from the beginning was known only to us three people - Edmund North, the surgeon, and myself. I don't believe either of them mentioned it at all. I know I did not. It's just possible Edmund, North might have told his stepbrother Sidney the way he got the money-the young scamp. I beg your pardon, Mr. Richard; I forgot he was your brother also." picked up, and I don't think they know-that the writer of the chief subject of their conversation. Had the traitor been letter was your clerk, Wilks." "Flam!" contemptuously rejoined the lawyer. "I've heard of that. Why should Wilks trouble his head to write about it? Don't you believe anything so foolish." "I don't believe it," returned Richard North. "The man could have no motive whatever for it, as far as I can see. But I think this-that he may have become cognizant of the affair, and talked of it abroad." "Not one of my clerks knew anything about it," protested Mr. Dale. "I've got three of 'em, Wilks and two others. You don't suppose, sir, I'd take them into my confidence in all things." "But, is it quite impossible that any one of them-say Wilks--could have got to know of it surreptitiously?" urged Richard. "Wilks has nothing surreptitious about him," said the law"He is too shallow-pated. A thoroughly useful clerk here, but a man without guile." yer. "I did not mean to apply the word surreptitious to him personally. I'll change it if you like. Could Wilks, or either of the other two, have accidentally learned this without your knowledge? Was there a possibility of it? Come, Mr. Dale, be open with me. Even if it were so, no blame attaches to you." "It is just this," answered Mr. Dale, accepting the solicitation to be open-" that I don't see how it was possible for any one of them to have learned it; while, at the same time, I see no other way in which it could have transpired. That's the candid truth." But, is it quite impossible they could have learned it?" urged Richard North, repeating his words. "It seems impossible to me; but it is just one of those things that one could not take a Bible oath to. I lay awake in the night for half an hour, turning the puzzle about in my mind. Alexander says he never opened his lips upon it. I know I did not; and poor Edmund North went into his fatal passion thinking Alexander wrote the letter, because he said Alexander alone knew of it, which is a pretty sure proof he had not talked himself." "Which brings us back again to your clerks," remarked Richard North. "They might have overheard a few chance words when the bill was renewed." "I'm sure the door was shut," debated Mr. Dale, in a tone as if he were not sure, but rather sought to tell himself he was sure. Only Wilks was in that morning; the other two had gone out." "Rely upon it, that's how it happened, then. The door could not have been quite closed." I "Well, I don't know. I generally shut it myself, with a bang, too, when important clients are in here. I confess," honestly added Mr. Dale, "that it's the only loophole I can see. If the door was unlatched, Wilks might have heard. had him in last night, and taxed him with it. He denies it out and out-says that, even if the affair had reached his knowledge, he knows his duty better than to have talked of it." "I don't doubt that he does, when in his sober senses; but he is not always in them." "Oh, come, Mr. Richard North, it is not so bad as that." Richard was silent. If Mr. Dale was satisfied with his clerk and his clerk's discretion, he had no wish to render him otherwise. "He takes too much now and then, you know, Mr. Dale; and he may have dropped a word in some enemy's hearing, who caught it up and then wrote the letter. Would you mind my questioning him?” "He is not here to be questioned, or you might do it and welcome," replied Mr. Dale. "Wilks is lying up to-day. He has not been well for more than a week past; could hardly do his work yesterday." "I'll take an opportunity of seeing him, then," said Richard. "My father won't rest until the writer of this letter shall be traced; neither, in truth, shall I." The lawyer said good-morning to his visitor, and returned to his desk; but, ere he recommenced work, he thought over the! Wilks, he asked himself? What Richard North had said was perfectly true-that the young man sometimes took too much after work was over. But Mr. Dale had hitherto found no cause to complain of his discretion; and, difficult as any other loophole of suspicion seemed, he finally concluded that he had no cause now. Meanwhile Richard North walked back to Dallory-it was nearly two miles from Whitborough. Passing his works, he continued his way a little further, to a turning called North Inlet, in which were some houses, large and small, tenanted chiefly by his work-people. In one of these, a pretty cottage standing back, lodged Timothy Wilks. The landlady was a relative of Wilks's, and as he got his two rooms cheap, he did not mind the walk twice a day to and from Whitborough. "Good-morning, Mrs. Green. Is Timothy Wilks in ?'' Mrs. Green, an ancient matron in a mob-cap, was on her hands and knees, whitening the doorstep. She got up at the salutation, saw it was Richard North, and courtesyed. "Tim have just crawled out to get a bite o' sunshine, sir. He's very bad to-day. Would you please walk inside, Mr. Richard?" Here, amidst this colony of his work-people, he was chiefly known as "Mr. Richard." Mrs. Green's husband was timekeeper at the North Works. "What's the matter with him?" asked Richard, as he stepped over the threshold and the bucket to the little parlor. "Well, sir, I only hope it's not the low-fever; but it looks to me uncommon like it." "Since when has he been ill?" "He have been ailing this fortnight past. The fact is, sir, he won't keep steady," she added, in a deploring tone. "Once a week he's safe to come home the worst for drink, and that's pay-night; and sometimes it's oftener than that. Then for two days afterward he can't eat; and so it goes on, and he gets as weak as a rat. It's not that he takes much drink; it is that a little upsets him. Some men could take half a dozen glasses a'most to his one." "What a pity it is!" exclaimed Richard. "He had a regular bout of it a week ago," resumed Mrs. Green, who, when she was set off on the score of Timothy's misdoings, never knew when to stop. It was so well known to North Inlet, this failing of the young man's, that she might have talked of it in the market-place and not betrayed confidence. "He had been ailing before, as I said, Mr. Richardoff his food, and that; but one night he caught it smartly, and he's been getting ill ever since." "Caught what smartly?" asked Richard, not understanding North Inlet idioms. 66 Why, the drink, sir. He came home reeling, and give his head such a bang again the door-post that it knocked him back'ards. I got him up, somehow-Green was out-and on to his bed, and there he went off in a dead faint I'd no vinegar in the house-if you want a thing in a hurry you're sure to be out of it-so I burned a feather up his nose, and that brought him to. He began to talk all sorts of nonsense then, about doing bills,' whatever that might mean, and old Dale's moneyboxes, running words into one another like mad, so that you couldn't make top nor tail o' the sense. I never seen him as bad as this, and got a'most frightened." She paused to take breath, always short with Mrs. Green. The words "doing bills" struck Richard North. He immediately perceived that hence might have arisen the report—for she had no doubt talked of this publicly--that Timothy Wilks was the traitor. Other listeners could put two and two together as well as he. "I thought I'd get in the vinegar, in case he went off again resumed Mrs. Green, having laid in a fresh stock of breath. "And when I was running round to the shop for it-leastways walking, for I can't run now-who should I meet, turning out of Ketler's, but Doctor Rane. I stopped to tell him, and he said he'd look in and see Tim. He's a kind man in sickness, Mr. Richard." "Did he come ?" asked Richard. |