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ICOPTRIOHT, 1890.) F CONTINUED. ] "Tbhi nfternoon I determinod on indulgir.g in a littlo rtcroation and attendcd tho Wild West Show. Just as I was coming away. the man whom we wcro oach looking for (though until recently I bad no positiva erounds for supposinjj that Julius Emerick and Loon Velasquez were identical) crossed my path, and, as I had proviously mado up ray mind that I would capturo him if ho ever carao within sight of me, I at onco grasped him . The rest you know. " Then they feil to tulkin? of the man? iseless efforts whioh they had made to oapture the villain. "Now," said Mrs. , Delaro, "that I know that ho is safo In the hands of the law, I feel that I can. ipend the closing days of my life in rest and peace. You, Percy," she said,! "hayo boon my true and dovotod friend; kil through and will not loavo me now. j To you we o we every thing, and you are the only friend upon whom we can rely In future." "But whero is our dearold friend, Mr. Wilcox?" asked l'ercy, who listened with lürprise to thoso words. "Do you not know?" said Mrs. Delaro, . openintr her os with astonishmont. "No," replied Percy. "I stayed only t, short timo in New York, and tho people at the house said he had accompaoied you." "Poor, dcar old man," said Mrs. Delaro, "ho h;:s been laid to rest in the quiet jrraveyard of his nativo town in New Enland." As sho spoke these words Porcy was silent, and it was many minutos tx'fore he csuld control his voice to gpeat When ho did his words came choked and husky - "Would to God that he had lived to soe this villain brought to justice! So my staunch old friond is gono from us!" Moro than an hour elapsed before Armida and Mr. Blodger returned. When they did return Armida was in sorrowful mood, and said that she had 3een Eugeno. He had admitted burstng open tho dosk, but insisted that he iid not want the money. What he did lesire he would not telL "What shall we do, mamma?" she sked. "Ho must not go to prison. Think of the disgrace." "We will consult a lawyer in the morning and seo what we can do about it," responded her mothcr. That nigh t was tho happiest Mr. Delaro had spent for many a yoar, and long and steadily did sho talk with Percy about all that hud transpirad during his long absence, whil Leon Velasquez and his dupo languiahed in prison. In due oourse the aocused man was brought up for an examination. Mrs. Delaro in a firm voico relatod the history of tho murder and swore to the identity of the prisoner. So positivo and straightforward did her evidence seem that it appeared hardly necessary to cali Porcy Lovel. Still ho was placed in the witnosa box ;mJ gnvo an account of hls advonture in $outh America. He also told about tho final clew of the silver-charm which had satisfled hitn as to the identity of the prisoner, and in a few moments the prosiding raagi3trate committed Velasquez to jail to await the arrival of his extradition papers. The same day Eugene Bregy was brought up at anothor London pólice oourt and, despite the eftorts of the lawyer employed to defend him, he was sent to jail for a short time. All this time hls anxious mothor was expecting news of him at Nico, where ■he at last grew tired of waiting and came to London. The flrst place she went to was the address which Armida had given her. While Armida gladly welcomod tho poor woman, it was with a sorrowful hoart that they told her the ■tory of the last few days. "But Mr. Emerick is in New York," she said. "He told me he was going there." "Then he did it to mislead you," said Armida, "for he is now in jail awaiting removal to America to bo tried on a ohargo of murder." "What! my husband a murderer?" cried the poor woman. "Why, you surely said he was noi your husband?" said Mrs. Delara "Butho is. He told me so, and he has got all my money," said the now distractod woman. Mrs. Delaro was iramediately struck with an idea. "Ah, he has deluded you into believing it in order to rob you of your fortune," she said. "No, no!" criod Mrs. Bregy. "He it my husband, my Alphonse, and I must go and see him." To pacify the woman a carriage was procurod and she was taken to the jail wbere Loon Velasquez was confinad. He was brought into the cage to see her and she at onoe approaohed him - "Alphonse, they gay you are not my husband. But it is not true, is it?" "I am not your husband, and never have been," he said, in almoft indlitlnot tonos. "Then why dkl von say yon were?" she said. "I wantod your money," w:is tho oool rejoindeí. lio knew his end was near and ho mercifully set tho poor woman's mind at rest. Hut she bad to bo carried out of tho room in a swoon. CHAPTER XXI. "'Tis not my will that evil be immortaL" It is wel] for vu that, whilo on thisearth every thinL good and boautiful is short-livod, passing spoedily away, evil and wrong are a!so but a question of time, and have their end. "All things come to hi'ir who will walt." Leon Volasquoz's power of ovil had spread itsclf over a long and busy lifetlme- had held full sway fpom tho day ho had nUM-ed bis teena until hls halr was trurninjr graj Wlth tho c-xception. of the few yoars when lm posod as an honest mcrchant, his activo mind had always beon bent on evil. Ho had caused thu innocent t;i suffer fov tho guilty; had robbod tnpn of tho hardearned accuraulatlond of years, and women of tbelr virtue; had stuini'd hts nands in blood until muraer carne as natural to him as the killing of a bullook to a butcher; he had drawn better natures down to evil and made crime the study of his life. But the day of retribution was fast closing in upon him. The murder of Mario Delaro was oon to bo avenged, and before long he would realize the awful justice of the old Mosaic law - "A Ufo for a life." And yet how poor a recompenso. Robbod of her Ufo ,happiness when it was just bezinning to assert itself, all that the victim's widow received in return was the knowledge that retribution had finally overtaken the one who had robbed her of her treasuro. And, comparod to Valasquez, what a fearful price had she paid to secure revengo. The best part of her life had been spent: wasted, in fact, in running to oarth a monstrosity who had at last fallen into her hands through sheer accident (as the greater part of tho world would say), though there are those who would see in sucb an accident tho wonderful raachination of an unrelenting Ruler, who bas said: "Vrna-oanco is mine." Never until now had Velasquez reflected on the po sible results of tho repulsivo acts of bis Ufe. His immunity froni dlscovory liad only tended to hardon his sou] and lic had evor boen prompted by one impulse only - greed for wealth - whicb when acquired had novor brouí!t him any genuino pleasure. Ho hal nevor onco stopped to think of the prloe his vietims pald to satisfy his own insatiato desires. He had been absorbed in self $nd had lived a life in whieh none others shared a part. But now that tho hellish conceits of his dobased mind could only spond themselve3 on four prison walla, ho was forced to think. Leon Velasquez, running riot as one of tho most activo of the devil's emmissarios, had never pau3od to think of the exactness wlth which God's milis grind all, had never thought it worth his whilo to consider that thoso who escape the mili:) tho longost aro in the end ground more quickly and relentlessly. He was in tho milis now and the groat stones wero beginning to revolve; so closoly, so surcly increasing the speed of their revolntions evory moment, never to ceaso grindinij until the grist should bo fino as the finest powdor. His nights grew restloss, sloep almost forsook him, and tho littlo snatches of napping which ho did somotimes secure wero only fitful slumbers disturbed by horrible dreams which brought to his mind in turn, like a moving panorama, tho scènes of his devilish acts. Hold as ho had boen through life, he now shuddored under tho shadow of tho gallows, and so foarful was tho mental torture that at times he wished that the end might bespeody. When tho liolts shot Into thoir sockets across his prison door all hope fled, and ho knew full woll that ho would, after all these yoars of liberty, moot tho penalty of his groatost crime. Frora the hour of his arrest he had been moody, and entirely ceased to speak to those wbo approachod him. He neither expressed a hope of escape nor murmured at his fats. Some lmagined that the terrible visions of a just punishmont were perhaps the cause of his silence, though others avowed that ho was only meditating a bold and final plunfje for liberty. Be that as it might, he persisted in a moróse reticonco. While he lingered in prison Mrs. Delaro and her friends were taking a rest from the intense exoi temen t at a pretty little English watering place, trying in vain to forget for a time the final tragedy in which they, must tako an important part. Mr. Blodger had been completely outdone by the scènes he had witnessed. He made a hurried determination to return to America and nover again assist at such exoiting performances. He received so severe a nervous shock that all the poetry of his soul was crushed out, and he was corapelled to postpone foran Indefinito period the writingof an ode to Father Thames, in which ho had avowod hls intention of putting a vast amount of research, labor and thought. The world was thns robbod of another llterary gem. He was truo to his word, and a week after Velasquoz's incarceration Mr. Blodger1 little party of friends aocompanied him to Euston station and bade him "God spoed" on his journey home. About fivo weeks later Mrs. Delaro, Armida and Percy returned to London to meet the American detectives, who had arrived wtth tbeextradition papers. It required but a short spaco of time to perfect the arrangements for Velasquez's rémoval to California soil, where the law required that he should take hls trial for the crime of murder. Everybody concerned was anxious to start as Boon as possible, and it was arranged that the prisoner should be taken by the same steamer as the others, and no one made any demur to this except Armida. When sbe heard the decisión she said: "We must not travel on the samo snip wtth that man. I am suxe 8omethinf dreadful will happen - he will be a veritable Jonah." "What nomense you talk, my ohlld. Such absurd f orebodlngs never enter my .i-j; ■ .-il v- ----- - ITO IS OONTINÜÏD. I