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He grew flushed in the face, and his words got tangled with each other, and he assumed an air of " injured innocence."

When an opportunity occurred, Belle remarked, "That man must have lost his hand, and-"

"Again I ask, what has this to do with my question?" angrily demanded the Professor. "And strange coincidences startle me tonight," she continued, heedless of his interruption. "I was the little girl who saw that hand and heard that cry of anguish, and those strange words, Perish the hand.' To-night I hear the same words, and in almost the same voice." "What else?" cried the Professor, with a defiant air. “What else? Your facetiousness is inimitable; but I am stupid, I suppose, for I cannot understand you. What have I to do with this story?"

"This much you wear a false hand.. I am not afraid to tell you that I think you were the man who tried to enter that window that summer night, and that then and there you lost your hand."

For a moment Belle thought the man would strike her. He came so close to her that she could feel his breath upon her face; his arm was upraised and his eyes half-hidden by a hideous scowl; but she confronted him as calmly as ever. There was no cowardice in her nature, and now, that she had boldly declared her belief about him, she was not affrighted by look, or gesture, or word of his. He did not strike her; but, with a startling and incomprehensible phase of character, his arm fell by his side, a look of uneasiness took the place of the scowl upon his face, and he said, in a voice very low but very distinct:

"Still I love you, Miss Tesson."

Was it a redeeming feature of his nature that his love for the girl should subtly pacify and conquer his fierce anger? Or was it but a temporary lulling of the storm, to be more dangerous, when released from control by the utterance of other words of anger, scorn, or contempt? Was he sincere in this quietness of form and voice? Belle asked herself this last question, and was ready to pity the man, so suddenly humble.

"That night was the beginning and ending of my crime," he said, at last, with downcast eyes. "I will not deny that guilt of which you accuse me. Until to-night, the secret has been my own-now you share it with me. Every man is a criminal some time in his life. For my crime, I have made bitter atonement.

Will

you believe me?" and he glanced up into her face with such a pleading look, that her heart began to relent, when she felt a touch upon her arm, and, turning, saw the Little Teacher. Belle was not startled by the apparition, for with it she instantly connected the shadow she had seen falling across the path, and the form that had stealthily passed hither and thither among the trees, and into and out of the moonlight. She had watched it all the time when it

was visible, because she was fearful that some one was playing the part of eaves-dropper in order to do her harm. Now that the identity was revealed and her best friend came to her assistance at a time of bitter trial, she was, for a second, overpowered by feelings of unutterable thankfulness. She put her arm around Mrs. Baller's neck, and their lips met.

"Lovers!" ejaculated the Professor, resuming the character which he had, for a little time, put completely aside, yet somewhat disconcerted by this sudden, and, by him, undesired addition to his party of two.

"Better than that, sir; we are friends," said Belle, haughtily, and emphasizing the last word. "And my enemies, then," he added, angrily.

"Yes," said the Little Teacher; "we are your enemies because of your crimes-crimes confessed and unconfessed, and wrongs done and wrongs unsuccessfully attempted, as was this of to-night. We are enemies of evil, and your enemies."

"You are fools, that is what you are. I only wish that you were men. I could half-kill you-you hissing, viperish creatures. You, Mrs. Baller, what business have you here? Who asked to hear your voice or see your face?"

"I came here to help my friend; to help her against you-you, Henry Waldron," answered the Little Teacher defiantly, leaving Miss Tesson and going toward him.

The speaking of his name seemed to frighten the Professor. His face grew very white, and, in a lifeless way, he sank back into the seat, and closed his eyes.

"Let us go now," whispered Belle, pulling at the arm of her companion.

The Professor heard the words and sprang to his feet. He came up to Mrs. Baller, and pushed back her bonnet and her hair, that he might have a better look at her white face and its scarlet mark. She made no resistance to his touch, and was as passive as a statue for the moment.

"Are you a fiend, that you come to torment me with the past?" he cried.

"Don't you know me?" was the answer. "I have known you as Mrs. Baller," he said, regarding her very attentively. Quickly there came over his face a wicked look of hate, and he spoke to himself, but aloud: "If it were not for this scar she would be very like—”

"Your wife," said the Little Teacher. "Yes, very much like her," putting his hand over the scar.

"Do you know me?" she demanded.

"I think you are my wife-my 'long lost' wife," and he laughed one of his low, brief laughs, as if in derision of the woman and her claim upon him.

"Think!" she cried, pushing him away from her with a gesture of contempt. "Think! You know that I am your wife."

"I wouldn't swear to it; but, to save you the trouble of talking, I'll admit that such is the case. If it hadn't been for the scar, which

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"Thought so, because you were so still." "In the darkness you fled from me, and you have been fleeing ever since, Henry Waldronfleeing from your conscience. I never wanted to see you again. I had had many years of peace, when you came here to destroy my happiness. You make love to this girl, and she tells you that you are a midnight robber. She is saved, and your plans are come to naught." He laughed.

"What are you going to do with me, now that you have caught me. I am a worthless fish, and you had better throw me back into the water. I do love the girl; but I find I have a mill-stone around my neck in the shape of yourself. Excuse me if I have interrupted you! I like to hear you talk. I haven't forgotten ten years ago, Kate."

"Nor I. I loved you then: I hate you now. Your heart is as false as your hand. You are a villain and-"

"Your husband."

This triumph of words pleased him. He laughed long and loudly, and uttered something that sounded like an oath. His good character was breaking up very fast. The veneering was coming off, and the gaunt and pompous Professor, with his elegant diction and imperturbable face, was very rapidly demonstrating that he was only a half-refined ruffian. For the first time, Belle was alarmed by the deportment of the man.

"Let us go away from him," she begged, holding the Little Teacher tightly by the arm. "There is no harm done to us yet. We have learned unpleasant truths. I shall love you more than ever. Come!" drawing Mrs. B.

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"You're right there, Belle, my love. Wife, won't you give me a kiss before you go? No? Well! it can't be helped."

The women were hurrying away from him, and Belle had her hands over her ears. When he found they gave no heed to him, he scooped up a handful of gravel from the walk and threw it after them; and, as it hurtled through the leaves, he laughed to see them run-the more frightened, seemingly, the farther they were away from him. He looked at his watch.

"Just time enough," he said to himself, as he put it back into his pocket. Then he kicked his heel into the turf for two or three minutes, in a fit of abstraction. Finally, with an oath, he growled to himself as follows:

"Well! there's an end to that little episode, that is like a worm-eaten rosebud. I played the game very, very badly. But it's my cursed luck. I never succeed. These two women, though, held better hands. Hands!" and he viewed the gloved one with a look of bitterness. "Hands! Well! it can't be helped. better than none at all, and shall yet do me good service as a recompence for this night's failure." With these words he walked rapidly toward the building.

It's

Next morning, Professor Stephen Morgan was missing from the College. He had gone away in the night-train, leaving for the trustees a note tendering his resignation; and only two people knew the cause of his sudden and inexplicable departure, which made them very happy. The Little Teacher-may Heaven bless her!-is still alive, and contented with her position in life among the girls, whom she loves with comprehensive affection, at Oakwood College. From that day to this, Mrs. Baller has never heard from or of Professor Morgan, her unworthy husband.

AUCTIONS: MY EXPERIENCE OF THEM.

I am no great lover of sales by auction; indeed, I confess that, to me, their leading associations are decidedly unpleasant; so that my experience has, perhaps, been too limited to qualify me for speaking of them. The number of times I have been present at such assemblages could easily be counted; still it strikes me that the few I have seen were so distinct from each other, as to be essentially characteristic, and worth a brief description.

Though I have said that sales are unpleasant, I must confess that the Cheap-John auctions of

hardware we see at the country-fairs are peculiarly humorous, and afford displays of admirable rhetoric; and again, in market-towns, where men may occasionally be seen holding forth from a cart, vending, in true auctioneer phraseology, their "ripe and ruddy apples" or plums. In the city, too, impromptu auctioneers, as they may be called, who ply their trade with the help of but humble paraphernalia, or in the evening with flaring torches, that cast curious lights and shadows on the audience they collect, are often very amusing.

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Well," I said to my friend, "had an oldclotheswoman not as much right there as any. one else?"

Our earliest associations with sales of tility. My friend informed me that they made this kind point back to the quaint origin it their business to attend regularly to pick up of the art, as practised by the travelling al- bargains-principally old china or drapery chemist and his famulus, who went round dis- goods, which they resold to their friends at a few pensing their mystic drugs and simples in this pence more than they paid themselves. It was style. Their latest representatives, in fact, are impossible to look at them without a feeling of the uncouth vendors of pure "Turkey rhu- respect. How patient and self-denying they barb," quantities of which used to be bought up must be, to sit there, day after day, in that close, at street-corners by the good inhabitants of our stifling atmosphere, surrounded by those rough, fine old city of A, who appeared unable to uncouth, brokers, who chewed tobacco at their withstand the amazing flow of eloquence that very backs, or dropped revolting particles of proceeded from the mouths of those bearded snuff on their carefully-kept shawls and cloaks! hawkers. Varieties of nondescript goods used I did not require to be told that the old woman to be sold in this way, such as "magic paste with a decidedly aquiline profile, who sat in for razor-strops," infallible cement for mending a capacious chair at the foot of the table, was a earthenware, liquid for the immediate cure of character; but I was surprised at my friend's toothache, and for the instant removal of corns, vehemence in denouncing her as an old-clothesbunions, and warts, and if any gentleman pre-woman-by name, forsooth, Madam de Gamie. sent was troubled with such, the salesman would remove them upon the spot free of charge, to the absolute satisfaction of the company generally honour then requiring that purchases on an extensive scale should be made. But it is with the higher walks of the profession that I have to do at present. Furniture will not last forever; curtains will fade, and chairs in course of time become worn out; and so it happened that a number of these articles were required in our household at one time, and for the purpose of procuring them I made a hasty visit to the city some distance from our village. When there I was advised to attend some of the numerous sales by auction; for it was expected, being close upon the "term"-furniture would be selling "for a mere song." Accordingly-wishing, of course, to make my money go as far as possible-I agreed that the proposal was not a bad one, and a friend having volunteered her services as guide and chaperone, the next day she carried me off to what she called an "unreserved sale" -one, she said, where bargains could really be picked up. She further explained that no doubt there were sale-rooms of a better description in town; but then, people might attend the whole day and get nothing after all, as very often an upset price" was put upon the articles, which were in some cases as high, if not higher, than at the shops; so that, though I might expect to meet with some peculiar characters, still, if I wanted bargains, this was the place.

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We equipped ourselves in dresses fitted to stand the tear-and-wear of the occasion, which, my friend hinted, might be somewhat severe. This warning, I soon discovered,

was

no more than necessary. There were "brokers," both male and female, who pushed their way unceremoniously, examining the articles to be sold, with noisy remarks to each other, and who paid no attention to the usual civilities, at least to those not connected with their class. Clustered round the saleroom-table were a number of women, shabby-genteel females, or rather, to speak more correctly, broken-down gentlewomen, for some of those pale, pinched faces bore the traces of real gen

"No, she hasn't," replied my friend; "she's as rich as a Jew-no, doubt, in fact, a Jewess; and she picks up everything really worth the buying; so these poor things who make their livelihood by it have no chance with her. I've seen the tears standing in some of their eyes, when, perhaps, they fancied, if the article were knocked down to them, they might be able to make something extra by it. But what does that horrid creature care about their struggles? Madam, indeed! it is enough to put madam out of fashion altogether."

Of course I took a great interest in Madam de Gamie, whose very bonnet was in itself a study, being one of those large obsolete satinet bonnets which might have been in existence before the Flood. There happened to be a small stock of drapery goods to be disposed of before the furniture, and not long after our arrival the sale commenced. The auctioneer was a very young man, who spoke as if his breath were running away from him, like an express engine from its train. To this department the indigent gentlewomen gave their undivided attention, and we of course gave ours to them. It was amusing, but at the same time pathetic, to watch how eagerly they examined the small parcels of gloves, silk ribbons, or " remainders" of dresses. 'Show me, Peter-show me," was whispered first on one side and then on the other, to the man who walked in the space between the narrow tables displaying the articles to be sold; while the auctioneer took advantage of the occasion to pass a joke at Peter's expense: "See, Peter, what it is to be a ladies' man! Now do have a little compassion on Peter, ladies. It's natural he should like to show his sweetheart the ribbons first."

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They enjoyed these little jokes immensely, poor things. No doubt they had heard the same thing before; but an auctioneer's jokes are never stale. Besides, any little hit against that horrid Madam (who was the sweetheart in question!) was delightful, though Madam bore the flow of the auctioneer's wit with unabashed

countenance, as only a Madam de Gamie could
have borne it. After the drapery goods were
sold, my friend, having an appointment, left me
to make my purchases, and I soon found that,
like everything else, when once you get into the
spirit of the thing, bidding at a sale is not such
a dreadful affair after all: it only requires a
little practice. I must own, however, that I
was greatly indebted to an old man, who, I
discovered afterwards, was a Jew broker, and
was supposed to be worth an unknown amount
of money. His advice was not to bid at first,
but to watch my opportunity and pop in an
offer just before the final "going-gone."
After a little, I really became quite expert at it,
in spite of the auctioneer's quickness; and
though I did lose a few things, my Jewish
friend encouraged me to go on, his opinion
being "that, for a beginner, I did wonderfully."
But one thing connected with this style of sale
particularly jarred on my feelings: that was, in
case of eventual success, the having to call out
my name before that gazing multitude. My
name happens to be a very peculiar one, and I
was quite aware I should have to repeat it half-
a-dozen times: nay, even after that, I might be
politely requested to spell it, as I had invariably
to do in the case of shopkeepers, and was it
likely I should escape here? I therefore con-
ceived the bright idea of appearing under a fic-
titious one; and when the first article was
knocked down to me, I boldly gave my name as
Mrs. Miller. But alas! during the course of
the day, in the excitement and confusion, I
quite forgot I was incog.; and when a little table
I felt particularly anxious to have was knocked
down to me, as I had fancied, I became indig-
nant to hear the auctioneer telling the clerk to
book it to Mrs. Miller. I instantly "begged
bis pardon, but the table was not Mrs. Miller's
it was mine."

"Why, aren't you Mrs. Miller yourself?" said the auctioneer, staring at me in extreme astonishment.

My answer-"Dear me, true: how stupid I am!" did not improve matters, and I could not wonder at the man regarding me with suspicion afterwards. But the auctioneer's astonisliment was nothing compared with that of my friend when she returned for me, to find me sitting quite at my ease, and Peter familiarly addressing me as Mrs. Miller. When the true state of matters was explained to her, she turned so white that, for a moment, I thought she was going to faint.

"Oh, come away at once. You may be taken up as a swindler for giving a false name. You may be imprisoned for it-who knows? No: I insist upon your leaving at once, before the man finds it out. We can send one ofthe men to pay for the things," and remorselessly she hauled me out, though at the very moment an elegant set of chairs was about to be sold that I had set my heart upon having.

The next day, having seen another sale advertised in the newspaper, I made inquiries about it, and found that it was considered to be

one of the most fashionable in the whole town; that even ladies belonging to aristocratic circles were in the habit of frequenting it. It was not a place for bargains exactly, but then everything was of a superior class; and having been disappointed in getting the chairs by my friend's fright the day before, I made up my mind to attend this sale, rather glad to think it was so select, for another day beside those frightful brokers was not to be thought of. Certainly it was a very genteel assembly, and altogether different from the "unreserved sale." There were ladies there, who made it as much their business to be present as the indigent gentlewomen did; but how different were their circumstances! They came simply to see how things were selling; not as actual purchasers— simply to spend a few hours of their abundance of time; some had their work with them, and one old lady in a comfortable easy-chair sat complacently crocheting some little bright worsted mats all the time, the others having put their work in their bags when the auctioneer made his appearance. The sale the day before was all noise and bustle, but I do not exaggerate when I say that you might now have heard a pin drop, everything here was conducted so genteelly. It was a most bewildering time to me. The smaller articles were handed round by a man very like a waiter at a firstclass hotel, and apparently they were sold, but where were the bidders? At the unreserved sale everyone had called out most lustily, but here no one spoke, except the auctioneer; and but for the sound of his voice, the words flowing from his lips like a quick running stream, and his hammer clenching the last call in such a startling way, that it had the effect as if a pistol had been fired at your ear, you might have fancied yourself at a Quaker's meeting. Though there were many articles put up and sold that I really wanted, I was so stupified by the whole proceedings that it was ever so long before I knew they were being sold. What an excessively polite man that auctioneer appeared to be! he was constantly thanking somebody, now on this side, now on that, and again right over my head, and once he thanked me, and even addressed me specially, which of course no doubt I ought to have considered a high honour, notwithstanding his words seemed rather impertinent.

"Did you look at me, ma'am?"

I felt inclined to tell him that I supposed he was there to be looked at; but I am ashamed to say I only coloured and stammered while every eye (some with glasses screwed into them) stared coldly at me; but in a moment I was at my ease again, for the gentleman begged my pardon for making a mistake, and having thanked another lady in the same mysterious way he proceeded with the business of the day. But why did he thank the people? What had anyone done to make him so gracious? When an article was shown round he would ask the question:

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, please to name

Ten shillings do you say? Five shillings? Thank you, ma'am !”

your price, your pleasure for this elegant article. | of voice, "Step in, ladies and gentlemen! Sale going on!" Had he been the keeper of a managerie and had evinced signs of letting some of the animals loose upon us, my friend could not have looked in a sterner way at him. "My dear," she continued, looking down at me compassionately, be thankful you met me! Those people, I am told, are nothing but impostors. They sell all sorts of Sheffield ware, and indeed a mixture of everything under the sun I may say; but it is called a white sale by some-by others a dumb sale."

And off he went, the things wavering before my eyes with the excitement of merely listening to him, till I was brought to my senses again by the rap from his hammer. At last it began to dawn upon my mind that those ladies who were nodding so gracefully, and those gentlemen who were slightly jerking their heads, as if they were on springs, were the actual bidders. I was brought to this knowledge by a gentleman standing behind my back who suddenly called out Ten guineas, and by seeing an old lady energetically nod her head when the auctioneer turned to her with an inquiring look. The article being sold was a most beautiful carvedoak book-case, the sale-room being surrounded with a whole suit of furniture to match, including an exquisite antique mantel-piece. The gentleman who had broken the dead silence by his anxiety to become the purchaser was an actor: this much I discovered by overhearing the remark of a lady to her neighbour, and also her astonished exclamation when he also purchased the carved mantel-piece and an ormolu cabinet, which was knocked down to him for the smart sum of fifty and twenty guineas respectively, "Goodness me!" the lady had said, "that is Q-, the actor! Where on earth do these people get the money? It's quite surprising." About the same time I discovered what had puzzled me very much-that the purchasers, instead of paying for the articles when they were knocked down to them, handed up their cards. Unfortunately I had left my card-case at home, so what was the use of staying there any longer? Money, in such an aristocratic assembly, was no object. Without my card-case I was helpless. When you are at Rome you must do as the Romans do. I therefore was compelled to rise up and leave the place; at the same time I felt doubtful if my nervous system would have been able to stand another half-hour in the society of those aristocratic automatons. Positively, though it may appear like sour grapes, the brokers were not half so bewildering, with all their dreadful ways,

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After I had, figuratively speaking, shaken the dust off my feet at the door of the genteel saleroom, I went along a side-street, and turned into one of the principal thoroughfares, when my eye caught a glimpse of another red flag, hung out at a door to show that a sale was going on," as the man leaning against the door-post was informing the passers-by. I had almost had enough of sales, yet an insane feeling (I can call it nothing else) seized upon me that I should like to see what they were doing here. Before reaching the door, however, I met a friend, who, when I had explained my errand, held up her hands with astonishment, declaring I had made a lucky escape by meeting her. Why, my dear, is it possible that you don't know what sort of a place that is?" she said, levelling her finger at the shop and staring at the man who was calling out, in a whining sort

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This information, I am sorry to say, did not convey to my mind the degree of horror my friend had wished, and I saw her eyes beamed even more compassionately than ever when I asked, "Are all the sales in this part of the town conducted on the dumb principle? for I can assure you I have no wish to put my head into another: the one in G-street was quite enough for me."

She seemed more surprised than ever at the idea of classing this particular sale with the recherché auction I had just left, and goodnaturedly explained that the auctioneer at this "mock sale" paid a number of people to attend, and they were required to go about examining the goods, and then bidding for them as if they did not belong to the establishment at all. They were, in fact, decoy ducks, and were supposed to have a wonderful effect upon the actual bidders. Notwithstanding all my friend said about its being such a deception, "a particularly disgusting sham," no sooner had she disappeared round the corner, when I determined to see for myself what this sale was like. comical affair altogether, and if I did not buy anything, it would be something to tell to my friends when I returned home, for in a quiteout-of-the-way village every little incident connected with the city is amusing; besides, it would be as good as a play, even better, for I should be as it were one of the actors. I was beginning to find that even sales had their comical points of view as well as everything else, and were a sort of study in their way.

It was a

The decorations and general appearance of the "dumb" sale room were certainly far superior to those of the "aristocratic" one; indeed, it was quite a gorgeous affair altogether, and though the audience did not then exceed eight ladies and one gentleman, still dressed as they were in the most fashionable of attires, it was almost impossible to believe they were under the command of that peculiar Jewishlooking individual who was performing as auctioneer. No sooner had I made my appearance round the folding screen than there was a general flutter. Gowns had to be smoothed carefully, and bonnet strings scrupulously readjusted, which latter act proved to me, more than even the over abundance of jewellery which I now observed, that they were the decoy ducks after all. The sharp little boy arranged his dozen glasses once more upon the tray, conducting me to a seat, while the auctioneer took a rather long pull at the contents of a jug, as if the

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