E 0 Sir Dace put his coffee-cup on the | you think it may be as well to question mantelpiece, and took the note from the household? Your daughter may have Coralie. I never saw any expression like left some indication of her movements." that of his face as he read. I never saw Jack's thought was not a bad one. any face go so darkly white. Evidently Coralie rang the bell for their own maid, he did not take the news in the same light Esther, a dull, silent kind of young womway that Coralie did. an. But Esther knew nothing. She had not helped Miss Verena to dress that evening, only Miss Coralie. Miss Verena said she did not want her. She believed Maria saw her go out. A cry broke from him. Staggering back against the shelf, he upset a vase that stood at the corner. A beautiful vase of Worcester china, with a ground of delicate gilt tracery, and a deliciouslypainted landscape standing out from it. It was not at the vase, lying in pieces on the fender, we looked, but at Sir Dace. His face was contorted; his eyes were rolling. Tanerton, ever ready, caught his arm. "Help me to find her, my friends!" he gasped, when the threatened fit had passed. "Help me this night to find my daughter! As sure as we are living, that base man will marry her to-morrow, if we do not, and then it will be too late." "Goodness bless me, yes!" cried the squire, brushing his hair the wrong way, his good old red face all excitement. "Let us start at once! Johnny, you come with me. Where can we go first?" That was the question for them allwhere to go? London was a large place; and to set out to look for a young lady in it, not knowing where to look, was as bad as looking for the needle in the bottle of hay. Maria, the housemaid, was called: a smart young woman, with curled hair and a pink bow in her cap. Her tale was this. While the young ladies were dressing for dinner, she entered the drawing-room to attend to the fire, and found it very low. She went on her knees to coax it up, when Miss Verena came in in her white petticoat, a little shawl on her neck. She walked straight up to Miss Fontaine's work-box, opened it and shut it, and then went out of the room again.' "Did she speak to you?" asked John Tanerton. "Yes, sir. Leastways she made just a remark 'What, that fire out again?' she said. That was all, sir." "Go on," sharply cried Sir Dace. "About ten minutes later, I was at the front door, letting out the water-rate who is sure to call, as my missis told him, at the most ill-convenient time - when Miss Verena came softly down the stairs Iwith her bonnet and mantle on. I felt surprised. 'Don't shut me in, Maria, when I want to go out,' she said to me in a laughing sort of way, and I pulled the door back and begged her pardon. That was all, sir.' "She may be at that villain's place," panted Sir Dace, whose breath seemed to be all wrong. "Where does he live? You know, I suppose," appealing to Jack. "No, I don't," said Jack. "But I can I dare say it is in Ship Street. lie. find out. Most of Ship Street, Tower Hill," explained Jack; and I dare say the squire was as wise as before. "Quite à colony of officers live there, while their vessels are lying in St. Katherine's Docks. Ship Street lies handy, you see; they have to be on board by six in the morning." "I knew a young fellow who lodged all the way down at Poplar, because it was near to his ship," contended the squire. "No doubt. His ship must have been berthed in the East India Docks; they are much further off. I will go away at once, then. But," added Jack, arresting his steps, and turning to Sir Dace, " don't "How was she dressed?" asked Cora "I couldn't say," answered the girl; "except that her clothes were dark. Her black veil was down over her face; I noticed that; and she had a little carpet, bag in her hand." So there we were, no wiser than before. Verena had taken flight, and it was im possible to say whither. "They were for running all over the world. The squire would have started forthwith, and taken the top of the Monu, ment to begin with. John Tanerton, departing on his search to find Pym's lodg ings, found we all meant to attend him, including Ozias. "Better let me go alone," said Jack. "I am Pym's master at sea, and can perhaps exercise some little authority on shore. Johnny Ludlow can go with me.", "And you, papa, and Mr. Todhetley No. 23. Jack got out, and knocked at might pay a visit to Madame Tussaud's," the door. A young boy opened it, saying put in Coralie, who had not lost her he believed Mr. Ferrar was in his parlor. equanimity the least in the world, seem- You had to dive down a step to get ing to look upon the escapade as more of into the passage. I followed Jack in. a joke than otherwise. They will very The parlor door was on the right, and probably be found at Madame Tussaud's: the boy pushed it open. A smart, wellit is a safe place of resort when people dressed sailor sat at the table, his head want to talk secrets and be under shelter." bent over books and papers, apparently There might be reason in what Coralie doing exercises by candle-light. said. Certainly there was no need for a procession of five people and two cabs to invade the regions of Tower Hill. So Jack, buttoning his light overcoat over his dinner toggery, got into a hansom with me, and the two old gentlemen went off to see the kings and queens. It was Mark Ferrar. His honest, homely face, with the wide mouth and plain features looked much the same; but the face was softened into - I had almost said that of a gentleman. Mark finished the sentence he was writing, looked up, and saw his captain. "Drive like the wind," said Jack to the cabman. "No. 23, Ship Street, Tower" Hill." "I thought you did not know his number," I said, as we went skimming over the stones. "I do not know Pym's: am not sure that he puts up in Ship Street. My second mate, Mark Ferrar, lives at No. 23, and I dare say he can direct me to Pym's." Mark Ferrar! The name struck on my memory. "Does Ferrar come from Worcester, do you know, Jack? Is he related to the Battleys of Crabb?" "It is the same," said Jack. "I have heard his history. One of his especial favorites is Mr. Johnny Ludlow." "How strange! strange that he should be in your ship! Does he do well? Is he a good sailor?" "First-rate. Ferrar is really a superior young man, steady and painstaking, and has got on wonderfully. As soon as he qualifies for master, which will be in another year or two, he will be placed in command, unless I am mistaken. Our owners see what he is, and push him forward. They drafted him into my ship two years ago." How curious it was! Mark Ferrar, the humble charity-boy, the frog, who had won the heart of poor King Sanker, rising thus quickly towards the top of the tree! I had always liked Mark: had seen how trustworthy he was. Our cab might fly like the wind; but Tower Hill seemed a long way off in spite of it. Dashing into Ship Street at last, I looked about me, and saw a narrow street with narrow houses on either side, narrow doors that somehow did not look upright, and shutters closed before the down-stairs windows. "Oh, sir, is it you?" he said, rising. I beg your pardon." "Busy at your books, I see, Mr. Ferrar?" Mark smiled-the great, broad, genuine smile I so well remembered. "I had to put them by for other books, while I was studying to pass for chief, sir. That done, I can get to them again with an easy conscience." "To be sure. Can you tell me where Mr. Pym lodges?" "Close by: a few doors lower down. But I can show you the house, sir." "Have you forgotten me, Mark?" I asked, as he took up his cap to come with us. An instant's uncertain gaze; the candle was behind him, and my face in the shade. His own face lighted up with a glad light. I "No, sir, that indeed I have not. can never forget Mr. Johnny Ludlow. But you are about the last person, sir, I should have expected to see here." In the moment's impulse, he had put out his hand to me; then, remembering, I suppose, what his position was in the old days, drew it back quickly. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said, with the same honest flush that used to be forever making a scarlet poppy of his face. But I was glad to shake hands with Mark Ferrar. "How are all your people at Worcester, Mark?" I asked, as we went down the street. 'Quite well, thank you, sir. My old father is hearty yet, and my brother and sister are both married. I went down to see them last week, and stayed a day or two." The greatest change in Ferrar lay in his diction. He spoke as we spoke. As sociating now with men of education, he had taken care to catch up their tone and accent; and he was ever, afloat or ashore, striving to improve himself. Ferrar opened Pym's door without knocking, dived down the step, for the houses were precisely similar, and entered the parlor. He and Pym occupied the same apartments in each house: the parlor and the little bedroom behind it. The parlor was in darkness, save for what light came into it from the street gas-lamp, for these shutters were not closed. Ferrar went into the passage and shouted out for the landlady, Mrs. Richenough. I thought it an odd name. She came in from the kitchen at the end of the passage, carrying a candle. A neat little woman with grey hair and a puckered face; the sleeves of her brown gown were rolled up to the elbows, and she wore a check apron. "Mr. Pym, sir?" she sail, in answer to Ferrar. "He dressed hisself and went out when he'd swallowed down his tea. He always do go out, sir, the minute he's swallowed it." "Do you expect him back to-night?" questioned Jack. "Why yes, sir, I suppose so," she answered. 66 He mostly comes in about eleven." "Has any young lady been here this evening, ma'am?" blandly continued Jack. "With Mr. Pym?- -or to enquire for him?" Mrs. Richenough resented the question. "A young lady!" she repeated, raising her voice. "Well, I'm sure! what next?" "Take care: it is our captain who speaks to you," whispered Ferrar in her ear; and the old woman dropped a curtsy to Jack. Captains are captains with the old landladies in Ship Street. "Mr. Pym's sister amended Jack. or cousin," "And it's humbly asking pardon of you, sir. I'm sure I took it to mean one of them flyaway girls that would like to be running after our young officers continual. No, sir; no young lady has been here for Mr. Pym, or with him." "We can wait a little while to see whether he comes in, I presume, ma'am," said Jack. Intimating that Mr. Pym's captain was welcome to wait the whole night if he pleased, Mrs. Richenough lighted the lamp that stood on the table, shut the shutters, and made Jack another curtsy as she withdrew. "Do you wish me to remain, sir?" asked Mark. "Not at all," was the captain's answer. "There will be a good deal to do to-morrow, Mr. Ferrar: mind you are not late in getting on board." "No fear, sir," replied Ferrar. From Fraser's Magazine. AMONG FRENCH FRIENDS IN BURGUNDY. DIJON. NOTHING is more astonishing to those who know France well than the hasty scamper of English tourists through the heart of regions so highly interesting from all points of view-social, pieturesque, artistic. Out of the thousands of thousands of travellers, for instance, who pass through Dijon from the beginning of June till the close of October, how infinitesimal is the proportion of those who diverge from the Swiss line, or even make a pause on the way! Alike, savant and simple, learned and uninstructed, are without eyes to see and ears to hear, as long as they remain on French soil. They eat their dinner at the deservedly favorite Hôtel du Jura, sleep the sleep of the self-satisfied, pay their bill, and depart! 66 France, indeed, to the great travelling population of England and America is regarded as merely a district to be passed through, the quicker the better, in fact, in the words of an American table d'hôte neighbor of mine, "a flat, uninteresting country," leading to Switzerland. These table d'hôte dinners are very instructive to those who study human nature as embodied in the great travelling population people like the Wandering Jew, perpetually on the move, heaven only knows why. Why should I visit the cathedral here?" said another transatlantic fellow.diner at the ordinary of the aforesaid hotel. have seen dozens of cathedrals in my life, and one is exactly like another. And museums, too! I have seen almost every one in Europe. I hate them all!" And then she added, alluding to the exquisite tombs of the Dukes of Burgundy in the Dijon museum, "People want me to visit this museum; there are the tombs of some celebrities or other in it. But I have said I won't, and I won't. Nothing shall induce me to set foot in another as long as I live!" "I Such happy immunity from travelling or philanthropy, but we may fairly take folks of this type constitutes one of the it for granted that none are quite indiffer. chief charms of France for those who ent on the subject of wine. It may not really know what travel means, and who be generally known that the restaurant of like to study the inside as well as the the Dijon railway station is supplied with outside of things. Arrived at the ancient wine by one of the largest and best-known capital of the kingdom of Burgundy, they wine-merchants in Burgundy, M. Paul will be perplexed as to which to choose of Guillemot, whose wine-cellars are well the novel and fascinating regions lying worth a visit. Burgundy is, as we all within reach. The wild little district of know, the land par excellence of good cel Morvan, the banks of the Saône, the lars, the smallest vigneron, as well as the wondrous Auvergne, with its lines of ex-largest, having a first-rate storage placé tinct volcanoes, the glorious Jura, the for his wine. When we consider that age Cévennes, and many others. Dijon, in- is the pre-eminent recommendation of deed, instead of being regarded as a halt wines of choicest crû, we shall see the on the Swiss line, should rather figure in importance of the cellar. The wine-mertravellers' minds as a centre from which chant, who purchases only the worldinnumerable French tours may be made; renowned vintages, pays the wine-growers and Dijon itself, which another table a high price to begin with, and has to lay d'hôte neighbor described "as a comforta- by his wines, in other words to sink his ble little place to sleep in," is one of the capital, for five, ten, fifteen, or more years. most interesting cities, artistically speak- Thus, if wine is purchased by the mering, in France, whilst its general claims chant from the grower at five francs a upon the intelligent traveller are too nu- bottle, and sold after some years' time at merous to mention. My object in this fifteen, we at once understand that the paper will naturally be to speak of matters profits are by no means extravagant. which do not usually come under the Whilst the wine is ripening in the cellar, observation of travellers, and before indeed, the merchant gets no interest on speaking of country life and the people his money, besides which he is losing his and their ways, to give a few details con- actual capital, since the wine, so long as cerning the town, to which we should it remains in casks, wastes, every month dedicate a few days. Its archæological having to be replenished. The meritoand historic monuments and treasures riousness of wine, roughly speaking, conare fully described in the English and sists in its age, and wine-growers in these French guide-books, so I pass them by, parts never drink new wine. The wine of bidding the tourist, as he strolls through poor vintages is sold straight away for these handsome and picturesque streets, foreign markets, only the good being to note a few features-the admirable stored in the cellar, whether for sale or arrangements for water-supply in the private use. town, for instance; at intervals of a few hundred yards we find taps of delicious fresh, ice-cold, spring water, of which to taste is enough to make one renounce wine even in this renowned wine country. The Dijon water-works cost the town £44,000 in 1840, since which time abundance of good water is the happy possession of every soul in the place. By the way, might not our railway companies follow French example, and erect a drinking fountain at every station? We can get water certainly at our refreshment stalls, but not, I believe, without paying for it, whilst the needy traveller in France has only to carry his bottle with him, the greatest possible comfort in hot weather. Continuing our stroll, we now pause to visit one of the "sights," properly speaking, of Dijon, though not named in the guide-books, and only seen by means of special introduction. Now, not all trav ellers abroad are interested in art, science, No wine-grower of my acquaintance here would think of drinking wine less than ten or fifteen years old, and I have tasted choice wine of Beaune that has been mellowing much longer still in these private cellars, and of most exquisite bouquet. In fact, I may say, that I never knew what Burgundy wine was like till tasted it among my wine-growing Burgun dian friends. The sour stuff drunk ir England - also in many parts of France under the name of claret, is no more like the real thing than cream cheese is like the moon. Until my Burgundian ex perience, indeed, I never could in the least understand English enthusiasm or the subject of French wines, seeing how unpalatable is the usual potion poured ou of the claret-jug, cold, sour, vinegar-lik anything but calculated to cheer the min and warm the body. These famous cellars I speak of ar really wonderful, forming in themselves e er la his er at he ar OL his 25 th to OD little subterranean village or town, where Be this as it may, there is the hand. you might as easily lose yourself as in some, brand-new building, capable of the Catacombs. There seems no end to accommodating nine hundred students, the long, arched chambers, some having on each side huge casks of wine holding fourteen tuns, others having neat shelves where the bottles are placed with as much order as books in a library. The temperature of the cellars varies slightly, the mean being 15° Centigrade, or about 55° Fahrenheit. The greatest curiosity of its contents is some wine of the 1819 vintage. Three thousand and odd tuns of wine are contained in these cellars, which are as interesting to a wine-lover as some famous library to a bibliophile. and built on the very best sanitary principles, a splendid garden being part of its attractiveness. The college was opened on the 15th October, after the long vacation. It is the impression of the present writer that the expulsion of the Jesuits will not take place, at least for a long time to come. Conservative France is too vastly in the majority for any violent measures, however apparently justifiable in the eye of the law. It Dijon is celebrated for three manufactures: its pills, its mustard, and its gin-lo We next pass on to two brand-new gerbread and the history of each is buildings on a handsome scale at Dijon, curious in the extreme. We will take the worth noticing from different points of pills first. Without doubt the people who view, the first, the Jews' synagogue, in- take most pills will be the first to make augurated during my visit. There are them wholesale, and the consumption of not more than five hundred members of machine-made pills throughout the length the Jewish community here, and this im- and breadth of France is enormous. posing place of worship, erected at a cost was a happy thought of a successful of three hundred thousand francs, must French pill-maker who, with the best inrepresent large sacrifices on the part of tentions in the world, could hardly satisfy all. As we well know, the Jews in France his customers, to have recourse to maare less favorably regarded by their Cath- chinery. It must have flashed upon him olic neighbors than Protestants, but this like lightning that the clumsiest machine feeling is fortunately on the decline. The might turn off three times as many pills French government contributed twenty- in a day as the most dexterous fingers, five thousand francs towards this syna- and now the process is so exact that some gogue, whilst the town, with equal liber- hundreds of thousands of pills are fabriseality, granted the building-site. At the cated daily on the premises of the origiopening ceremony, in which Protestant nal inventor. This gentleman, Thévenot for pastors took part, a prayer for the French by name, a chemist of Dijon, gained a republic was offered up by the officiating large fortune by his manufactory, and it rabbi, and the inauguration speeches were is satisfactory to learn that his descendall marked by sentiments of patriotism ants are doing as prosperous a trade as and attachment to republican institu- himself. The hardness of the times in tions. Catholics, it is almost needless to no degree affects the sale of pills. Peosay, are in enormous majority here, as in ple will have their pet luxury at any cost, Auvergne; and not far from this hand- and so while they are ready to give up some place of Jewish worship is the their horses and carriages and toilettes, enormous Jesuits' college, equally new they retain their pill. I had the opportuand equally imposing, the sight of which nity of conversing with several manufacopens up a wholly new line of thought. turers in different branches of trade whilst Will the Jesuits be expelled from France at Dijon, and all complained of the or will they not? This is the burning slackness in trade. Only the fortunate question in France at the present moment fabricator of pills showed a cheerful couna question it is much better not to tenance. Tar, chloroform, camphor, casraise in general company, so sore are tor-oil, oil of eucalyptus, are amongst the feelings of all concerned. On the the favorite ingredients. The process of one hand is sentiment, on the other law. pill-making by machinery is extremely Catholic parents urge that in a government rapid and neat. Thin layers, composed based on liberty they should be permit- of gum, sugar, and gelatine, are spread ted to choose the teachers of their sons; out in small pieces, the desired oil is then Whilst the large political party opposed to spread on the under layer, just as we put the Jesuits bring forward the strongest jam in a layer of paste; a second put on, possible argument, namely, the various the whole adhering like thin covered passtatutes, according to which the Jesuits try. This is now placed between two iron have no raison d'etre on French soil. plates indented with little holes the size |