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THE DafLY EXAMINER, CHARLOTTETOWN, NOVEWBEx 15, 1899

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1 THE ‘AYSTERY, ¢ OF COUNT .,

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(Contir ted)

SYNOPSIS,

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The hero of this story, Boris Lan@rinof, is ayoung Russian, who was sent to Eng

| land to be educate- He is hastily sum

|} moned home by bis mother owing to the

sudden disappearance ot his father, Count

| Landrinof. Shortly after, in London, he

is astonished when a friend tells him be

bare just seen his father. Accompanied by

is Dodd'e Kidcev Bix this friend he returns to Rossia. Boris

Dodd's Kidney Pilla ane | disccvers a clue, and sets out in search of Gifts sid twomen whohave as he supjoses ab- drug

a box at ¢ ull ' ducted bis father.

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This was the happiest afternoon and evening we had spent for two months. True, tomorrow’s meeting wonld be painfal no doubt; but, oh, the differ- ence to have father with us, ill though he might be, rather than to think of him as a poor lost soul alone in London,

4 helpless and friendless and demented!

eee eee I thonght the evening of that

SOAP Wednesday would never come How MAK ERS slowly the wingless moments crawled!

a We prepared everything for father’s se =. 22 A oe ef 22

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viting as loving hands conld render them; we adorned them with flowers and pretty hangings and photographs; we spent hours in doing all this, and yet the time would not move on quick- ly enough for us.

The train was due at or about the dinner hour, and Percy and I were at the station half an hour before time.

Now that the supreme moment had arrived I felt unaccountably nervous | and somewhat depressed. Percy rallied me upon my foolishness.

“Why, hang it, old man,”’ he said, “this ought to be one of the happiest moments of your life!’’

**‘So it is,’’ I murmured. ‘I am aw- fully happy. But I don’t know what it is—I feel as though even now father will disappoint us somehow, as though all this were not a reality. What if

THE QUESTION 15 OPTEN ASKED,

HOW IS THE ASCENDENCY OF ROYAL

ther, after all, but’’—

“Oh, rot!’’ said Percy rudely. ‘‘Let’s talk of something else. If you get think- ing that kind of thing, you'll force yourself to believe that he isn’t he, even

when you see him with your own eyes.”’ “Ob, no! I shall know father,’ I OAK murmured, ‘tif he really comes.’”’

, Percy. ‘*Whom do you expect? Come SOAP now, don’t be an old ass, Boris. Your | merves are playing old Harry with you.” Then, almost as we spoke, the train came groaning and creaking in. It pulled up, and the passengers began to get out and walk on the platform. and the usual crowd formed.

accounted for? The answer ‘3 simple enough, viz:—Be- sause there is none equal to it ‘or intrinsic merits, firm ness, purity, combiaed with great iasting and cleansing pro-

perties Send for premium list. —— for joy. Then I looked closer.

LDL 0.0 —

denly Borofsky and another. At the first glance I thought it was my father, and my heart gave a great

Charlottetown Soap Works ? MGR Kn, When Lady iat, , mae a’ Marie ae < a Montague visite WY sem the household of

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The > scag@the Sultan, she e - -& wrote home to _ England that the : ee.

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ladies of the BR." “ \ harem were KO smothered with laughter to dis- / cover that her ladyship wore ; an inner vest of steel and whalebone, “tight, impene- i.able and sti- fling, in other words, a corset, The ladies of the harem

\ Haring secured the agency of the fam - | ons “Silver Spriog Brewing Sherbrooke” Nh ; P. Q.,I am prepared to supply ale and ' porter of unsurpassed quality at prices a that cannot fail to piease. Write for = ed rices and be prepared for s genuine sur-| “ae7z¥ | would no doubt ; ee . 6 Se have been

prise. ¥ equally astonished, though perhaps not

disposed to laughter, had they known that A. MACDONALD

eS

the women of western nations, through false ideas of delicacy, suffer in silence untold

lect of their health in a womanly way. Women,who suffer in this way shrink from the embarrassing examiuations and local treatment insisted upon by the majority of physicians. If they oniy knew it, there is no necessity for these ordeals. An emi- nent and skillful physician long since dis. covered a remedy that women may use ir the privacy of their own homes. Itis Dr Pierce’s Favorite Prescription. It acts di. rectly on the feminine organism, giving it strength, vigor and elasticity. It stops all ; ; debilitating drains. It is the greatest of all 8 to renund the public that the} nerve tonics and savigseaars for women,

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| don’t see us—tell him it isn’t father,

this man should turn ont to be not fa- ! | Who was this, this scoundrel who had

' meditated the personation of father in | his own house? Could it be my precious

©f course he’ll really come,” said |

. this news to my poor mother, waiting ; at this moment in joyful expectation

' t the shock did not kill her! . In the crowd, as we went to and fro ee ae ee no

looking for our travelers, I saw sud- ;

agony, and sometimes death, through neg- ©

Antonich’’ (my father’s patronymic).

’ Gregory’s greeting, which seemed to surprise the porter, who looked pained.

the love of heaven, tell Borofsky’'—

‘*Well, tell him what? Where is he? Do you see them? What's up, old man ?’’ said Percy.

‘**Tell Borofsky to wait. I must get home and prepare my mother Tell him —come behind these boxes so that they

Percy. I'd swear with my last breath it isn’t.”’ *‘“Good heavens, man!’’ began Percy. ‘See if you can avoid bringing him home at all,’’ I continued. ‘‘But inany

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“Tell him it isn’t father, Percy.” case give me time to get back and warn mother or the shock will kill her. No, don’t speak. I tell you, man, it is not father. Do you think I don’t know?”’

I left Percy on the platform and rushed away. My heart felt like lead. God help us, I thought! What will happen now?

CHAPTER XIV. MISTAKEN IDENTITY.

Each attempt to unravel the mystery which lay like a bluck cloud over our lives had only served to deepen the gloom. Here was darkness indeed.

Destiny was treating us too cruelly.

hoodwinked our detective and actually

uncle, escaped somehow from Siberia? Where was father? Did this man kncw? Was he concerned in father’s disappear- ance?

My brain ached with the hopeless weight of these questions as I drove rapidly homeward. And as I neared the house another came crushing down upon my heart. How should I break

to clasp her beloved husband? God

I had no time to think or invent or to arrange my scattered thoughts. I rushed up to mother’s room.

‘“‘Has he come?’ she cried, meeting me. ‘‘Is he well? Oh, Boris, what is it?’’

‘‘Be brave, mother, darling, and brace yourself for a cruel blow,’’ I began, speaking so huskily that I wonder she understood me.

‘“‘Tell me at once!’’ she muttered, suddenly seating herself on the nearest chair. ‘‘He is dead—is thatit? He was mad and’’—

‘“‘No, no, dearest, not that, thank God!’’ I faltered. ‘‘This man is not fa- ther. I have seen him, and it is not fa- ther!’’

‘“‘Ah, I can bear that, if that is it,” she said. ‘‘But perhaps you are mis- taken, Boris! Stop—I could not bear to greet and speak to him if he were not my Vladimir. What shall I do, Boris? Can I see him and remain unseen? Where could we go, you and I? We will make sure, quite sure, that we must be disappointed before we will al- low our hearts to break over it.”’

‘Dear mother, you are brave,” I said, kissing her. ‘‘Let us sit in the porter’s little room in the great hall. We can peep through the window and watch them arrive.’”’

‘“‘Come!"’ said mother, and together we made for the wide staircase that led down into the huge entrance hall. But before we had reached the hall the car- riage drove up. Mother heard and grasped my hand.

‘‘We are too late,” she whispered. “But now we are here, we will stand our ground together.”

The hall porter, an old servant, ran to the big doors and flung them open, bowing low and greeting ‘‘Viadimir

A tall man entered with Percy and Borofsky. He took no notice of old

Conversing with Borofsky, while Percy followed, silent and depressed, the new arrival came toward us. Moth- er’s hand tightened over mine. She gave me a convulsive grip and then loosed me again. I saw her eyes bright-

qui¢kly ero ; enough to father to iintter her bopes for but one second then she saw, as sh: must inevitably see, how unlike was the likeness. The little group reacned

us and paused a moment. Borofsky was about to speak, but he suddenly realized bow matters stood and_ refrained Mother bowed and passed down stairs with me. Percy turned and came wit! es Borofsky and the other continued their journey up etairs. I distinctly heard the fellow ask Borofsky who the lady was This man that was her husband, forsooth, and my father! Poor mother sank upon a couch in the hall and cried quietly. Thank God that she did that! I could eay nothing to comfort her, excepting to blurt out that we should yet find father and re- store him to her one day.

“At all events, he is not mad, as we feared, mother,” I added. ‘Almost anything is better than that. Have you the heart to go on hoping, in the face of this blow?”

Mother played the heroine that nigh* Not only did she assure me that she was still full of hope and confidence. but she comforted poor old Percy, who wae disconsolate, declaring that this

of it was entirely his fanlt (which it certainly was in a way), by telling him that if she and I conld be taken in by the portrait it was surely no wonder that he was taken in by the original.

‘“‘They are marvelously alike,’’ said mother, ‘‘and yet, ob, how unlike! This is his brother, of course!’’

‘Mother, do you really think so?’’ I exclaimed. ‘‘How can he have escaped from Siberia ?”’

‘‘That is another mystery,’’ she said. ‘‘Perhaps the mystery of dear father’s disappearance is connected with this one, and that with this wretched Andre delivered thus, as it were, into our hands we may learn something from him.”

“Bah! I shall kick him out of the house in ten minutes if I have to geta couple of policemen to help me!’’ I raved.

‘“‘No, my son, we will allow him to remain. We will give him shelter and show him kindness. Then perhaps if he knows anything and if there is any particle of good in him he may help us in some way to unravel our mystery.”

‘‘Mother, it’s impossible!’’ I said. ‘“We can’t have a brute of a fellow like this murdering, nihilistical rascal sleep- ing in the house. I shouldn't feel that you were safe. He would murder the whole lot of us for the price of a din- ner.”’

‘‘We will take precautions, of course. Let him remain, Boris—tonight at least."

‘It would be wiser to give him money and turn him out of the house. Offer him more on condition he keeps away and still more for any news he can give us of father.’’

‘*‘Do nothing ina hurry,’ said moth- er. ‘‘He shall stay tonight at least. Tomorrow we shall see how the land iies. What do you think, Percy ?’’

‘To be Continued.)

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