[SPAM] N the Fleet arrived, a _French_ Officer coming on

Tter the Forts abovementioned; the _Princess Amelia_, Captain
_Hemmington_, to fire against the Fascine Battery, and the _Litchfield_,
Captain _Cleveland_, agains

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has been cut down and the earthwork surrounded by masonry, unceme

 Bromo is the only one of the three now active. As we gaze down, we are
startled by a deep groaning noise, and out of the wide crater mouth
there issues a mass of grey smoke and ashes laden and streaked with
fire. Simultaneously, a huge mass of cloud, cruciform in shape, is shot
up hundreds of feet into the air from the Semeroe. It rests a few
seconds above the bare, ash-strewn cone, and then drifts heavily to
westward, to make way for the next eruption. [Illustration: SAND SEA,
WITH BROMO AND SEMEROE.] These indications of Nature's activity in the
crucible at the earth's centre make one reflect on the possible
consequences of the next great convulsion, and the fate that is in store
for those intrepid villagers who have perched their primitive huts on
the very edge of the Teng'ger crater. With these reflections, we turn
away from one of the most solemn and impressive sights it has been our
privilege to witness, silently mount our pony and retrace our steps for
the snugly-situated Hotel at Tosari, no longer regretting, nay, rather
thankful, that we had resolved and achieved our resolution to climb the
Penandjaan Pass to see the sun rise. [Illustration: SMOKE PLUME--THE
SMEROE.] Hotels and Travelling Facilities Before going to Java, the
tourist ought to make himself acquainted with the outlines of the
history of the island since it came under European domination. Half the
charm of European travel, if one is something more than a mer

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ng their own ornamentations as gor

Words were addressed entirely to the children. He told them in simple
language, which Mark found himself admiring, the meaning and importance
of the ceremony, sketching the apostolic origin of Confirmation, and
dwelling upon its strengthening spiritual effects. The Bishop was young,
too young, Mark thought, since he was not yet forty. His hair was still
black, and his cheeks ruddy. He was quite a contrast to Father Murray
who sat near by. Mark noticed that the pastor did not wear the
manteletta of a prelate, but only the surplice of a simple priest. There
were two other priests in the sanctuary, both young, one probably the
Bishop's secretary. The Bishop allowed his gaze to wander over the
congregation as he spoke with a rich, clear voice, and with growing
eloquence. The children had fixed their wondering eyes on his impressive
figure, as he stood before them, crozier in hand and mitre on head. Mark
found that he was growing more attentive, and liking the Bishop even
better as the sermon went on. More than that, he found himself
interested in the doctrine of Confirmation, a ceremony which but a few
months before he would have thought quite meaningless. He watched the
Bishop and listened as closely as did the children. In the very midst of
a sentence Mark saw a startled look on the face of the preacher, a
quickly suppressed look that told of great surprise. The Bishop saved
himself from breaking the current of his speech, but so plainly did Mark
notice the instance that his mind jumped at once to the conclusion that
the Bishop had seen in the congregation somebody he had not expected in
that place and at that time. Instinctively Mark's gaze followed the
Bishop's. Across the aisle, and in a direct line with himself, sat Ruth,
veiled as usual, and Madame Neuville. For an instant only the Bishop's
glan

Squeezed it. The light was too dim for the others to see the flus

--a prayer-book. It was on her dressing-table just as she left it. The
inspector hadn't touched it." "What about it?" said Guerchard, taking
the prayer-book. "There's a photograph in it," said Bonavent. "It may
come in useful when we circulate her description; for I suppose we shall
try to get hold of Victoire." Guerchard took the photograph from the
prayer-book and looked at it: "It looks about ten years old," he said.
"It's a good deal faded for reproduction. Hullo! What have we here?" The
photograph showed Victoire in her Sunday best, and with her a boy of
seventeen or eighteen. Guerchard's eyes glued themselves to the face of
the boy. He stared at it, holding the portrait now nearer, now further
off. His eyes kept stealing covertly fro

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D. I have but now Dismounted; and, from yon sequeste

Ter ANDRE in his uniform, and dress'd._ ANDRE. Is there that state on
earth which friendship cannot cheer? BLAND. Little _I_ bring to cheer
thee, Andre. ANDRE. I understand. 'T is well. 'T will soon be past. Yet,
't was not much I ask'd. A soldier's death. A trifling change of form.
BLAND. Of that I spoke not. By vehemence of passion hurried on, I
pleaded for thy precious life alone; The which denied, my indignation
barr'd All further parley. But strong solicitation Now is urg'd to gain
the wish'd-for favour. ANDRE. What is 't o'clock? BLAND. 'T is past the
stroke of nine. ANDRE. Why, then, 't is almost o'er. But to be hung-- Is
there no way to escape that infamy? What then _is_ infamy?--no
matter--no matter. BLAND. Our General hath received another flag. ANDRE.
Soliciting for me? BLAND. On thy behalf. ANDRE. I have been ever
favour'd. BLAND. Threat'nings, now; No more solicitations. Harsh,
indeed, The import of the message: harsh, indeed. ANDRE. I am sorry for
it. Would that I were dead, And all was well with those I leave behind.
BLAND. Such a threat! Is it not enough, just heaven, That I must lose
this man? Yet there was left One for my soul to rest on. But, to know
That the same blow deprives them both of life-- ANDRE. What mean'st
thou, Bland? Surely my General Threats not retaliation. In vengeance

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