The Volume Of The Sacred Law.

never builds them . He loves art and the ancient Romans , but as the general public knows nothing of art and detests the ancient Romans , he is content to write ticket labels for drapers' windows to provide himself with the necessities of life . But he is plodding along with his cathedrals and Elizabethan palaces , and some day his efforts

may be rewarded by a commission to alter the coal-cellar of Lord Tomnoddy ' s house at Balham , in which event the residence will be duly sketched and forwarded to the Plumber . But Mr . Miller interests us now . He is a fine man of five-and-thirty , has a beautiful moustache , of

which he takes much care , a well-formed mouth , very hard about the lips and very stern , well-shaped ears , and a pair of piercing eyes as black as sloes , lie is seated at a magnificent bureau covered with little bundles of papers neatly tied , each one with red tape . At a desk in the corner sits a young lad of twenty years of age , very clean

and very smart-looking . A rich and valuable carpet covers the whole of the floor , and the furniture of the room is arranged in perfect taste . Mr . Miller is Mr . Miller , and nothing else . The same morning as that on which Mr . Ford conies down to

the house in Cavendish-square , two gentlemen ascend to the firstlloor of this bouse in Wellington-street , and inquire if Mr . Miller is at home .

Yes , Mr . Miller is at home ; but have the gentlemen an appointment with him ? No . There is no appointment , but if the lad will take

the card that is givtn him to Mr . Miller , no doubt he will see the visitors . They are ushered into

the inner room , and the smart young man offers the two men chairs , and fades away , closing the door after him .

" Mr . Miller ? " " Yes , sir ! I am he . " " We have a case of a somewhat delicate nature

to place in your hands , and we come to you by the recommendation of Lord Gascoigne , a client of mine in the North . " " Lord Gascoigne of Thurloe Hall ? " " The same . Are you prepared lo give the case your undivided personal attention , Mr . Miller , if we place it with you ? "

" If my client is to be the Earl of Culverhouse , most certainly ! " The two men looked at each other without saying a word . " You know this gentleman , then ? " " I have the honor to know him by repute , that is all ! " " By what repute , Mr . Miller , do you know me ? "

" By good repute , my lord . " " Well , then , " goes on Mr . Ford , " the case is one of flight . Two ladies have secretly left England , and we want you to find them . That , perhaps , is not difficult ; in fact , we could accomplish it ourselves , but I—mind you , I say / , because I have stoutly refuseel to

convey my views to his lordship—have reason to think their flight or their capture will lead to certain disclosures of a nature of great interest to us ; but the Earl will confide in you the entire facts of the case unreservedly and confidentially , and will in all things be guided by you . I have proposed to his lordship that you should

visit him this evening at his house in town . Shall it be so ?" "As you wish ; but I should prefer you to give me outlines that I may know upon what grounds I am to work . " "They are simple , Mr . Miller . Perhaps I may give them myself . The late Lord Culverhouse received a lady visitor on Christmas Eve . She was presumed to leave the house—Culverhouse

"AT THE HEAD OE THE WEIK WAS A hUXKEN llARtH-:. "

Court—sonic time after the entire household had retired for the night—it was really the early hours of the morning . At ten o ' clock that morning , when a servant entered the library his lordship was found upon the floor dead . " " I remember ; heart disease ? "

" No , sir—suicide !" Not one muscle of the detective ' s face moved ; he merely repeated , apologetically , the word " suicide ! " " We know nothing of the woman or lady , " continued the lawyer , " beyond the very imperfect description given by the butler , a very

old person , and the only one , it appears , who saw her . We have neither any trace of her . The poor Earl is buried , Mr . Miller and the present one , " the detective bowed slightly , " is married to a lady who lived with her mother at a residence of her husband , at Chertsey . Yesterday , by my advice , his lordship travelled to

Chertsey to acquaint his wife with the true facts , and instal her into her proper position , but when he reached the house he found both mother and daughter had left it four days previously , and this letter left for his lordship . There is the letter , Mr . Miller , and 1 have told you the facts . We want you to find Mrs .

Oakhurst and her daughter . " The detective—unlike his fellow men—had some presumptions to gentility . He glanced at the letter and returned it to Mr . Ford , ami

requesteil the piomiscel interview with both gentlemen in the evening at Cavendish - square . The interview arranged ,

Lord Culverhouse and Mr . Ford departed , Mr . Miller himself bowing them from the room . " Suicide , " whispered

Mr . Miller to himself ; as he put on his spotless silk hat . "James !" " Yes , sir ! "

" I am going to lunch . " " Very good , sir . "

CHAPTER V . How hkc a widow and her weeds , the niyht ; Aiuid tier ^ linuuering tapers silent . sils . THE seagulls dipped their wings in the waters of the Atlantic , and the s . s . City of London ploughed through its waves on its

headlong career to the harbor of New York . The decks had been dry since Queenstown was lost sight of , for the easterly winds blew stiff and sharp , driving the passengers into the saloons and cabins to seek shelter from it . The last rubber of whist had been played , and the " something

hot , " which kind-hearted stewards know best how to make , had been partaken of previous to turning in , and yet a couple of passengers stood leaning over the ship ' s rails on the hurricane deck , watching tlie silvery rays of a full moon dancing their midnight hornpipe on the wavelets of the ocean . What anxiety and remorse ,

love and hate , pleasure and sorrow are contained between the ironplated walls of an American liner ! Mother and children seek the fortunes of the New World , where only misfortune awaits them . The scapegrace son flees to the western hemisphere to bury his past , and cultivate a future full of promise and good deeds . The poor

lover , loverless and friendless , leaves all that was his little world buried there under the green grass of his native village , and seeks fresh fields wherein to bury his own griefs ! Onward flies the mighty monster with its living cargo of hopes and ambitions . Better sometimes if the angel of death had come to them in the midst of their watery world and led them through it to