40 CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. that vapour for nearly ninety-three millions of miles would be so intercepted that none of the effect of the sun's heat which we now enjoy could be felt upon the surface of the earth. On the whole, then, we find it more easy to accept the doctrine of the gradual dissipation of the solar heat through the immensity of space, as and the progressive exhaustion of the sun a central power of light and heat, than to adopt this new theory, even though promulgated by so eminent a scientist as Dr Siemens. FOR HIMSELF ALONE. A TALE OF REVERSED IDENTITIES. EIGHT weeks had come and gone since Frank Shepherdess of the Plain. In any case, even on Mr Pebworth, when at home, lived in the pleasant suburb of Bayswater. His house was a highly-rented one in a semi-fashionable square; but it was essential to Mr Pebworth's schemes that he should make a good appearance before the world; while it was not needful to tell every one that a rich old general and his unmarried sister occupied the best rooms in the house, and thereby helped materially to lessen the expenses of the establishment. Mr Pebworth's offices were up an old-fashioned court in one of the busiest parts of the City, the said offices consisting of one large room divided by a glass-and-mahogany partition into two small ones. There were several other offices in the same building, a massive edifice which dated back to the period of William and Mary, and had Among other legends evidently at one time been the home of some notable City magnate. inscribed on the broad oaken door-jambs might be read this one: 'MR ALGERNON PEBWORTH, General Agent, &c.' Now, the phrase 'General Agent, &c.,' is one capable of a somewhat wide application, as Mr Pebworth when he adopted it was probably quite What Mr Pebworth's particular line of aware. business might be, and from what sources the bulk of his income was derived, were things probably known to himself alone. It is quite certain that neither his wife nor daughter had any fixed ideas on the subject. It was generally understood that he was more or less mixed up with the promotion and launching of sundry joint-stock companies and speculative associations of greater or lesser repute-not unfrequently the latter; while those who were supposed to be best informed in such matters averred that he was merely a catspaw The lady in question was that gentleman's only and go-between for certain big financiers, who daughter, Miss Clunie Pebworth. She was a tall, did not always care to let their names go forth thin young woman, the angularities of whose to the world until the golden eggs with which figure not all the art of her dressmaker could they strove to tempt the public should be successeffectually conceal. She had fluffy light flaxen fully hatched, there being sometimes a risk that hair, large prominent blue eyes, a well-shaped the eggs in question might turn out to be addled. nose, and an excellent set of teeth, which she Be this as it may, Mr Pebworth had hitherto The contrived, by hook or by crook, to keep his head took every opportunity of displaying. normal expression of her features when she was above water, and the Bayswater establishment alone, or in the company of no one for whose showed as good a face to the world as most of its opinion she cared, was one of querulous discontent neighbours. and incipient ill-temper. You see, she was fiveand-twenty, and had not yet found a suitable partner for life. Some one had once told her that she looked arch' when she smiled; the consequence was that she smiled a great deal, but her smiles rarely extended as far as her cold blue eyes. Miss Pebworth was not one of those foolish virgins who believe in simplicity of attire. It may be that she knew her own deficiencies, and was aware that it would not suit her to play the part of the Elma Deene had been an inmate of her uncle's house about six months when we first made her acquaintance. Previously to that time, she had been living with some of her father's relatives in Devonshire. It was essential to the due carrying out of Frank Frobisher's scheme that he and his newfound relatives should be brought into frequent, There was only one mode if not daily contact. by which this could be effected, and that was by Journal having them as guests at Waylands. Fortunately, the rich old general and his sister were away in Scotland at this time, so that the pressing invitation, of which Drummond in his assumed character was the mouthpiece, had met with a ready response. Mr Pebworth found a convenient service of trains for running backwards and forwards between Waylands and the City as often as he might feel so inclined; Miss Pebworth cherished certain matrimonial designs against her rich cousin; while Mrs Pebworth, though often troubled inwardly when she called to mind that her own house was left in sole charge of a cook and parlour-maid, both of whom doubtless had followers however strenuously they might deny the soft impeachment-did not fail to derive a genuine housewifely pleasure in arranging and putting in order her bachelor nephew's new establishment. Mr Dempsey and Captain Downes Dyson, whose acquaintance we shall make later on, were business friends of Mr Pebworth; and after a dinner at Simpson's, at which Dick had been present one day when in town, had been invited down to Waylands, on a hint thrown out by that astute individual. Having stated these necessary preliminaries, we will return to Miss Pebworth, who by this time had seated herself on a rustic chair opposite her father. 'Do you want to speak to me, papa?' she asked. 'I do want to speak to you,' answered Mr Pebworth, as he laid down his paper and removed his eyeglasses. 'I want to know what progress you are making with your cousin.' 'I am making no progress at all. I never shall make any progress with him. I told you so a fortnight ago.' "Then all your attractions are thrown away upon him—all your pretty coaxing ways are of no avail ?' 'Of no avail whatever. Mr Frank Frobisher might be made of mahogany, for any impression I can make on him. I've tried him with halfa-dozen things-with painting first of all. I got Vasari's Lives and a volume of Ruskin, and was for ever talking to him about chiaro-oscuro, backgrounds, foregrounds, middle distances, and mellow tones. At last Frank burst out laughing in my face, called me a little goose, and said I didn't know a bit what I was talking about.' 'Very rude of him, to say the least.' 'I've tried him with other things-racing, hunting, shooting, poetry, landscape-gardening; but all to no purpose. He listens to all I say, agrees with me in everything; but all the time I feel that he is laughing at me in his sleeve.' 'Any signs of a prior attachment?' asked Mr Pebworth after a pause. 'Not that I have been able to discover. He seems utterly indifferent to female society, and to have no enthusiasm about anything.' 'Has probably been jilted, and still feels the smart.' 'I have given up the case as hopeless.' 'Why not make one more effort?' 'It would be quite useless, papa.' 'One more effort, Clunie. Think how magnificent will be the prize if you succeed! Eight thousand a year!' Then laying one hand earnestly on her arm, he added: "It would be my salvation, girl, as well as yours.' For a few moments they gazed into each other's eyes. 'To please you, papa, I will try once more,' said Clunie at last; but I feel how useless it will be.' 'It is a forlorn-hope, I grant; but a forlorn-hope sometimes succeeds through sheer audacity.' 'You have told me nothing yet about the fresh arrivals, Mr Dempsey and Captain Dyson.' 'I can catalogue them for you in very few words. They are both rich, both unmarried; consequently, both eligible. Dempsey is bordering on sixty years of age; Dyson is about thirty. If Dempsey were not a rich man, he would be a travelling showman. His house in Essex is quite a menagerie. Talk natural history to him. Tell him that whenever you go to town, you never fail to spend a long day in the Zoo, and that to you even the hippopotamus is a thing of beauty and a joy for ever.' 'I won't forget.' 'Dyson's mania is for telling long-winded stories about his adventures as a traveller. You must profess to be deeply interested in his narratives, and accept them all as simple statements of fact. Do this, and you can hardly fail to win the heart of Captain Downes Dyson.' 'I understand, papa.' 'Make one more effort with your cousin. If it fail, give him up for a time, and try your hand on Dyson. He is younger, simpler, and will be more easily manipulated than Dempsey. It will be time enough to try the latter when you fail with Dyson. My blessing will accompany your efforts.-Hem! We are no longer alone.' Mr Pebworth was right. Quite a little group of people, after standing for a few moments in the cool shade of the veranda, were now adventuring across the sunlit lawn. First of all came our long-legged friend Dick Drummond, who was believed by all there to be their host Mr Frank Frobisher. Next to him came Mr Dempsey and Captain Dyson, deep in conversation. Last of all came Elma Deene with her sunny face and lithe graceful figure. Our friend Richard no longer looked like the same man whose acquaintance we made in Soho. His leonine locks had been shorn away till no more was left of them than would have commanded the critical approval of any military barber. For several days after the operation, Dick averred that he felt quite light-headed. The mathematically straight line down the middle was a source of much trouble to him every morning. His once ragged sandy moustache had not been neglected, but had been trimmed and waxed and coaxed till it would not have done discredit to a captain of dragoons. His threadbare velveteen jacket, his baggy trousers, and his down-at-heel boots were as things that had never been. The dark tweed suit which he now wore had been constructed by a West End artist; while his patent shoes and snowy gaiters instinctively carried the mind back to the pavements of Piccadilly and Bond Street. In the matter of collars, cuffs, and scarfs, Dick was elaborately got up, while it was a strange experience to him to know that there was no laundress's account in arrear, and that he might indulge in clean linen every day, were he so minded. If he took out of his pocket once a day the gold chronometer which Frank had made him a present of, he took it out forty times. Only two months ago he had rather despised a man who carried a watch. As for the splendid brilliant which he wore on the third finger of his left hand, all that can be said is, that when one has a moustache, one generally twists it, or tugs at it, or strokes it, as the case may be, with the left hand. Mr Dempsey, who had been a great dandy once on a time, would fain have persuaded the world that he had not yet forfeited all claim to the appellation. He was thin and tall, and remarkably upright for his years. It was whispered that he wore stays, but that was probably a calumny. His complexion was of that tint which is usually associated with too free an indulgence in old port. He wore a brown curly wig, and his moustache and imperial were dyed to match. He wore his hat jauntily on one side, after the fashion of days gone by. This June morning he had on a long blue frock-coat, a white vest, fancy trousers, and patent boots with straps, not forgetting a moss rosebud and a sprig of maidenhair fern in his button-hole. When he sat down, he sat down with deliberation; and when he got up, he got up with deliberation. Either his clothes fitted him too well, or he was slightly stiff in the joints. Captain Downes Dyson was a little innocentlooking, fair-complexioned man, with a small fluffy moustache, weak eyes, a thin piping voice, and an eyeglass which was a perpetual source of trouble to him. He was dressed quietly and like a gentleman. 6 Dick came to a stand in the middle of the lawn and drew forth his chronometer. Remember, ladies and gentlemen,' he called out with an air of authority, 'that the drag will be round in two hours from now. Vivat Regina !' 'What place are we going to visit to-day?' asked Dyson. The ruins of Belfont Abbey,' answered Dick. 'Ruins again-always ruins,' muttered Mr Dempsey discontentedly. I can't see what there is to interest anybody in a heap of old stones.' Miss Deene overheard the remark. 'A sad state of things when one ruin has no respect for another,' she whispered mischievously to Dick. Dempsey and Dyson had brought their newspapers and letters with them, and they now sat down at the same table with Pebworth, who was deep again in the Times. Clunie had moved away to a seat on the opposite side of the lawn, and there Elma joined her. Dick had found a gardenchair for himself somewhat in the background. Here he sat down, and leaning back, tilted his hat over his eyes, stuck his thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat, and-cigar in mouth-went off into a brown-study. 'Time seems of no value in the country,' remarked Mr Pebworth in a casual sort of way. 'Past ten o'clock, and breakfast only just over. A clear loss of two hours per diem.' 'You can easily make up for it by sitting up two hours later at night,' responded the little Captain, who was addicted to post-prandial billiards. 'For my part, I think breakfast a mistake altogether, said Dempsey. 'Why not follow the example of the great carnivora, and feed once in twenty-four hours?' 'First catching your food, and then killing it,' interpolated Pebworth. 'And afterwards eating it uncooked,' piped Dyson. 'It would save something in coals and servants.' 'Another mining catastrophe-another hundred or so of widows and orphans thrown on the world,' remarked Pebworth a minute later. Dempsey was waiting with ill-concealed impatience till he should have done with the Times. Certainly Pebworth was keeping it an unconscionable time. 'Why don't those mining fellows insure their lives?' asked Dyson. 'As a director of one of the largest insurance companies, I echo the question: Why don't they insure their lives?' This from Dempsey. 'To subscribe to any fund for the benefit of their widows and orphans is an encouragement of wilful improvidence,' resumed Pebworth. "They won't get a penny of my money.' 'Nor of mine,' asseverated Dempsey. 'Nor of mine,' echoed the Captain. GUARDING THE QUEEN. THE many political assassinations that have taken place of late years have thrown upon the police of all countries an immense amount of difficult and delicate work in guarding monarchs, princes, familiarised with the idea that our leading statesand ministers. In England we have become men must be escorted by detectives wherever they go; and popular as the Queen is, we know that elaborate precautions are taken to protect her every time she appears in public. Few, however, can be aware of how much anxiety, activity, trouble, and consequent expense, are involved in that word 'protecting.' Looking only at the pecuniary side of the question, the fine which a madman or fanatic inflicts upon a country when he attempts, even without success, to take the life of a ruler, is considerable. The services of detectives have to be paid for; and to do their work properly, these officials must not be stinted of money for telegrams, railway and cab fares, and casual expenses. Sometimes they have to assume disguises, and to pay heavily for secret information as to alleged criminal designs; and though this information is often worthless, the police cannot afford to disregard any item of intelligence bearing upon the safety of the great personages whom they have to guard. Thus, the contents of every letter sent, whether anonymously or not, to Scotland Yard are carefully considered. The mischievous simpletons who concoct untruthful letters for fun, and the foolish busybodies who write to disclose 'suspicious circumstances' that have come under their notice, may all rest satisfied that they cause worry and waste of valuable time, if nothing worse. As the police have sometimes received warnings of great importance through unsigned missives bearing no guarantee of good faith, they make it a rule to investigate all facts not palpably absurd which are revealed to them; and doubtless by so doing they have often been enabled to prevent crimes. Journal Many an intending criminal must have been balked in his schemes by the timely discovery that his movements were being watched. To guard a royal residence—that is, to keep an eye on suspicious characters who may prowl about it, or seek admittance-requires vigilance, but is easy work compared with the task of protecting the sovereign when she appears in public. Every time the Queen leaves one of her residences, even for an afternoon drive, the event is notified some hours beforehand to the police by the equerry on duty, who announces what itinerary Her Majesty will probably follow. At certain points all along the route, policemen have to be stationed, and detectives are placed at all the spots where the royal carriages are likely to stop. Round Balmoral and Osborne, the roads can be watched without difficulty; but not so round Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace. Wherever crowds can congregate, the difficulties of the police are multiplied. A special superintendent is deputed on ordinary occasions to patrol the line of the royal progress; but when there is a state pageant, this duty is performed by the Chief Commissioner in person. He has to see that not only the policemen in uniform, but the detectives-unsuspected by the crowds among whom they stand are all at their posts. A regular code of private signals exists by which a detective can make his presence known to his chiefs, and receive short instructions from them, without exciting the attention of bystanders. The whole detective force of Scotland Yard, however, would be insufficient to keep proper surveillance over miles of streets, as, for instance, when the Queen went to open Epping Forest; so, on such occasions as these, hundreds of policemen 'off duty' are pressed into special service, and turn out in plain clothes. Then, again, there are men who, in consideration of having good places from which to view the procession, act as amateur detectives. Every detective and policeman has a few personal friends who will gladly undertake a duty of this kind, and very often women are among the number. Their instructions are invariably to keep their eyes and ears open; and not to cheer when the procession passes. In this, English detectives differ from those of foreign countries, who are frequently enjoined to start the cheering among the crowds; but the authorities of Scotland Yard have discovered that a detective who is bawling with all his might becomes useless for purposes of espionage. It is precisely when the cheering is loudest that danger is most to be apprehended, for the noise and the swaying of a multitude excite the nerves of the lunatic or criminal who is bent on mischief; therefore the police who are watching the crowd in its moment of greatest enthusiasm should remain perfectly cool. They have also to protect the sovereign against others besides the evilly disposed, for there are always people who want to thrust petitions or bouquets into the Queen's carriage, or else to shake hands with Her Majesty. Happily, these eccentric individuals generally betray their purpose by their restlessness. The man with a petition keeps feeling his pocket, to assure himself that the precious thing is safe; and as the royal carriages approach, he half draws out the paper; but by this time a detective has observed Осса It is often lucky for would-be petitioners that they should be pulled back before they can accomplish their purpose; for if that purpose were misunderstood by a loyal mob, they might expose themselves to some very rough handling. The Queen is indeed very well guarded by the affection of her subjects, and, generally speaking, she has rather to fear annoyances from silly people than criminal attempts from vicious ones. This shows what terribly difficult work the police of some foreign countries must have to perform in guarding sovereigns who are unpopular. sionally, the English police have a taste of this work, when some of these unpopular potentates visit this country and have to be guarded against subjects of their own living here in exile. When Napoleon III. visited England in 1855, the government of the day suffered agonies of anxiety lest harm should befall him; and these alarms were renewed in 1874, when the late Czar Alexander II. came to London. On both of these occasions, money was poured out like water to insure a proper protection of the illustrious guests; and the police did their work so well, that although there were serious reasons for believing that malevolent refugees were brewing mischief, both Emperors left the country without having heard so much as a rude word. The police, however, may be pardoned for having felt the most pleasurable relief when the visits of these much threatened monarchs came to an end. When the Chief Commissioner, Sir Richard Mayne, received the telegram announcing that Napoleon III. had safely landed in France, he remarked with quiet satisfaction: 'Now I shall be able to get a good night's rest.' Many of the difficulties of the police in guarding royal personages come from these illustrious persons themselves. Princes who are brave do not like to have their footsteps dogged in private life; and will sometimes grow impatient and angry when they find out that they have been watched for their own good. They have to be watched, nevertheless, whether they like it or not. It would never do for a royal Prince to be kidnapped and detained as a hostage by political or other desperadoes; and so care is taken that wherever a royal Prince may go, he shall always have his invisible escort of police. The Prince of Wales is guarded nearly as vigilantly as the Queen. If he travels by rail, surveillance is kept by the police all down the line; if his Royal Highness hunts, rides, drives, or takes a stroll on foot through any part of the West End, a detective is sure to be close at hand. So it is with other members of the royal family in these agitated times; and irksome as the supervision must be, it has to be submitted to with good grace because of its absolute necessity. police, however, are sadly worried at times by those foreign Princes who come to visit our own royal family, and who delight in slipping out of palaces for rambles through the streets without giving any notice of their intentions. Some detective or other is always held responsible by his chiefs, and severely reprimanded when such a thing happens; for the police force on guard at the palaces is supposed to be The in a condition to provide for all contingencies a stormy one, and the net gain amounted to only of the sort. two pounds. It will be seen from all this that the office of court detective is by no means a sinecure; and one may add that it is of all posts that in which faithful, zealous, efficient service obtains the least honour and reward. Not that royal persons are ungrateful to those who guard them properly; but because the men who guard best are naturally those who make the least fuss. It is the duty of a court detective not only to shield Princes from danger, but to conceal from them, so far as possible, that they have been in danger. Thus a man whose sagacity and diligence may over and over again have saved Princes from annoyance or hurt, will often be less appreciated than the more demonstrative servant who, perhaps once in his life, has had the good luck to arrest the arm of an assassin after-not before-the pistol was fired. The treasurer had now in his hands a little over sixteen pounds-a small sum to begin a public library with; but it was resolved to make the trial. And here a new and unexpected difficulty arose. It was all along thought that as there were two small unused classrooms in connection with the Dalbin Public School, there would be no difficulty in obtaining the use of one of these for a library. But when this was asked for, the School-board said that they had no power to grant any of the schoolrooms for such a purpose; and as no other conveniently situated room could be found in Dalbin, the Committee were for a time in a fix. In order to get out of the difficulty, it was resolved that the members of the Library Committee should call on the Schoolboard members as well as on the more influential ratepayers, and explain that the library would not intrude on school work or space. The consequence was that the former resolution of the HOW WE FORMED OUR VILLAGE School-board was rescinded, and the school offered LIBRARY. THE small Scottish fishing-village which we shall meanwhile call Dalbin, is fourteen miles from the nearest railway station. The population within a radius of two miles from the village is only seven hundred souls. To try to establish a public circulating library in such a place might seem Quixotic; but a library has been established, and more than that, is successful. For the benefit of those situated in country districts, and too far from any public library to benefit by it, we propose to tell how the Dalbin public library was established and is conducted. to the Committee on the following conditions: (1) That the teacher had no objections, and would take charge of the library; (2) that the library trustees should be responsible for any damage done to the school buildings; and (3) that the library trustees should insure the building against fire. The teacher having no objections, not only acquiesced in what the Board had done, but also willingly took charge of the library, and has since continued to be librarian and treasurer. other conditions were also complied with by the Committee. The Such were the delays arising from these and other causes, that it was nearly midsummer before all the conditions were ratified. the money invested, that for fourteen pounds they received a parcel containing no fewer than one hundred and seven well-bound standard volumes, which were duly stamped and numbered. In the autumn of 1878, a few young men of the place met and talked of what they were to do The next step was to buy books. Each of the during the coming winter. Both the Temperance members suggested such books as he thought Society and the Debating Club had become defunct, would be popular; and the list was then sent to and there was no hope of reviving them. Even Edinburgh, a friend there being asked to try and if they were revived, they would form an attrac-purchase them second-hand; and so well was tion for but a few people, and for only one night in the week. These young men had heard much of the good derived from libraries in other places, and they accordingly agreed that the best thing they could do was to establish one in Dalbin. But where were the necessary funds to come from? It was hopeless to think that the Free Libraries' Act would be adopted in the parish. In the first place, therefore, they posted bills, intimating that a public meeting of all interested would be held in the schoolroom, to consider how a public library could best be established. On the night appointed, twelve young men met, agreed that a library was necessary, appointed a Library Committee and Secretary, and gave their own subscriptions, amounting to three pounds. Four of the Committee were appointed to collect subscriptions from the inhabitants of the district; and in a month they returned with eight pounds as the result of their efforts. The Secretary wrote to several Dalbin young men who were prospering in larger towns elsewhere, and by return of post received three pounds. It was now the beginning of December; and in order to raise an additional sum of money, they resolved to hold a concert on New-year's Eve. The night of the concert, however, chanced to be At the beginning of the winter of 1879-80, it was resolved that the library should be opened to the public forthwith. The regulations were few and simple, and copies of them, with a list of the subscribers, were ordered to be hung on the wall. These rules are (1) The library is open on Tuesday evenings from eight to nine o'clock; (2) the subscription fee is sixpence per quarter, payable in advance; (3) no book can be kept more than a month by any one reader; and (4) any one damaging or failing to return a book is responsible for the same. It was expected that about ten volumes would be taken out nightly; but all were pleasantly surprised to find that on the first night no fewer than twenty-six came for books; and on the following Tuesday no fewer than thirty-four came. It was evident that if such a drain continued, there would soon be few books, if any, for the subscribers to choose from. The Committee therefore set themselves again to work to supply the demand thus unexpectedly made on them. To begin with, they redoubled their own subscriptions, and |