case over with Dr. Herron he asked to see the two men, and came on board our ship for that purpose. We had told him of the peculiar features of the case and of the rivalry existing between the men, without really attributing the cause of Harold's attacks to Blakeley. Dr. Herron's theory was that Harold had been hypnotized by Blakeley, and he proposed that he, Herron, should attend this trial as Harold's counsel in order that he might try an experiment of his own. His theory was that Blakeley had influenced Harold while he was asleep, and had directed him what to do, and that the subject was unable to resist the influence and had followed the directions almost implicitly. Dr. Herron believed that he could turn the tables if he had the opportunity, when the mind of Blakeley was deeply engrossed in his testimony before this court, and when he would not be on his guard against any outside influence being brought to bear on him.

"The experiment has been tried and you know the result to this point. The strain on Dr. Herron has been terrible, as you all know, but he is fully recovered now and ready to continue the experiment to the end, if you are willing. Mr. Blakeley lies here entirely under the influence. He cannot tell anything but the truth while he is in this condition. Now, shall we go on and get to the bottom of this affair?" The members of the court looked at each other in wonder. "Can you bring him to at any time, doctor?" said the president to Dr. Herron.

"Yes, sir, at any time. If I am wrong in my suspicions, he will clear himself on his examination. If I am right, the truth should be known. I will abide by the answers he makes," said Dr. Herron.

"Gentlemen, this is the most extraordinary thing I have ever witnessed," said the president, "and I am somewhat at a loss to know what to do under the circumstances. Of course, we cannot examine Mr. Blakeley as a witness before a court, but as we are taking a recess, we might see this thing out as individuals. What do you say?"

The members all acquiesced and told Dr. Herron to continue. The doctor took a seat alongside of Blakeley, and, taking one of Blakeley's hands in his own, said, "Blakeley." Blakeley's eyelids unclosed slowly until his eyes were seen staring up at the ceiling, with, however, no expression whatever in them. The by-standers involuntarily shrank back. "Blakeley," again said the doctor. "Well," came the answer from Blakeley, though it was not in his voice, but in a strange tone which seemed to come from a long distance.

Blakeley, will you answer truly what I ask of you?"

"I must. You are my master."

"Blakeley, do you know the secret of Harold's illness?" "I do."

"What was the cause of it?"

"I."

"In what way?"

"I hypnotized him and told him he was drunk and would be drunk for four hours."

"Why did you do this?" "Because I hate him."

"Why did you hate him?"

"Because he was first in the heart of the woman I love. If I could have him disgraced she would never look at him again, and I might be to her as I once was, before I lost her through him."

"Is your action known to any one but yourself?"

"To no one."

"Does Harold know of it?"

"I have no reason to think that he does."

"Have you told me the truth absolutely?"

"I cannot do otherwise. You are my master."

The officers standing round the couch gasped at the revelation, but no one spoke until Dr. Herron said, "Gentlemen, is there anything more?"

"Nothing more," said the president, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "This is more than enough. Bring him to, doctor, and I will see the admiral at once."

Herron took both Blakeley's hands and chafed them, and smoothed his forehead and eyes for a few moments until Blakeley gave a yawn, stretched himself, and then sat up and rubbed his head in a dazed sort of way, and said, "What's the matter?"

"You had a fainting spell in the court-room," said the doctor, "and we laid you on this lounge to recover."

"Mr. Blakeley," said the president, "the court has adjourned for the day. You had better go on board ship, and if we want you in the morning we will send for you."

The manner of the president seemed to strike Blakeley as a little peculiar, but he simply bowed and started for the door. His step at first was a little unsteady, but he soon regained his nerve and walked

out.

"Gentlemen," said the president, "the court is adjourned until tomorrow at ten o'clock."

That court never proceeded with that case. The admiral dissolved the court the next day, and a lengthy report went to the department giving the reasons for the action, together with some recommendations which he hoped the department would favorably receive.

In due course of time came the approval from the Navy Department, with an official communication for Lieutenant Blakeley, stating that his resignation would be accepted, should he desire to present it ; and in case he did not see fit to resign, the admiral was directed to convene a court for his trial on charges which would be formulated later. The

letter was handed to Blakeley by the admiral himself, in his cabin, with the remark, "Mr. Blakeley, in order that you may fully understand the action of the Department in this matter, you are informed that there are other hypnotists in this squadron besides yourself, and to one of them you have confided your secret in regard to Mr. Harold. I am authorized to accept your resignation at once. Which shall it be, resignation or court-martial?"

"I will hand you my resignation in an hour," said Blakeley; and he did. On the next steamer from Key West went Mr. Blakeley, no longer an officer of the United States navy.

The admiral issued a general order to the effect that the courtmartial proceedings in the case of Lieutenant J. P. Harold were entirely abrogated, as the Department was in possession of facts showing that the charges were made under an entire misapprehension and were entirely without foundation, and that Lieutenant Harold was restored to duty without a blemish on his character as an officer and a gentleman.

The mess celebrated the event by a dinner, honored by the company of Dr. Herron, Captain Barry, Admiral Hadley, and last, but by no means least, Miss Maggie herself.

There was a hush at the table when Mr. Telver rose, with his glass in his hand, and said, "To Jimmy Harold, the best-loved man in the mess. May he and his convoy meet with nothing but fair weather during the whole cruise of life."

"Let me add one word to that," said the old admiral, in all innocence: "Here's to the convoy, whoever she may be, lucky to have such a man-of-war to take care of her. God bless her!"

Why, father," shouted Dick Hadley, nearly splitting with laughter, "you are bestowing the paternal blessing."

The old gentleman looked around at Miss Maggie, who was hiding her blushes behind his broad back, and the light suddenly broke in on him. He stood for an instant without speaking, and then placing his arm round his daughter's waist, he said, "Well, Dick, I see no reason to change my mind about either of them,-God bless them both."

THE YACHT "GNOME"

(Continued from page 198.)

V.

A STRANGE HALLUCINATION.

"Pluck out the heart of my mystery."-Hamlet.

WHILE seated in the room up-stairs I had heard an occasional deepmouthed baying just under the windows on the street, and when I opened the front door a great, tawny, black-jowled mastiff, with ugly eyes and wearing a heavy chain-collar, stalked past me and sprang up to the second story.

As I went out I heard Mr. Hungerford say, "In, Raoul! Hallo, old fellow! Down, sir, down!" Therefore I knew that the dog was Hungerford's, and that the mammoth brute had been in the habit of running up to Mrs. Corestone's chamber oft before.

"A frequent visitor with his master," reasoned I, "and doubtless welcome. I don't know which beast I dislike the most. Hate him, hate his dog, I do," and I trotted briskly towards home.

The weather was doing its worst. The wind had increased to a tempest. Sidewalks were covered with snow, sheets of drift were accumulating by stoops and curb-stones, door-ways were banking up, the frost was biting cold, an ice blockade was likely to set in. March was coming in like a lion, truly.

We had had a severe winter, nor was its climax over yet. I was glad to reach St. Mark's Place in order to gain shelter.

Mrs. Lamb and Miss Scrub, familiar friends and neighbors stanch and true, were sitting cozily together over a cup of fragrant tea in the front parlor when I entered, and a plate of buttered toast and another of hot muffins stood before them on the table, which had been drawn up before the fire for the better enjoyment of the warmth and blaze. Complete comfort, social converse, and mutual confidences exchanged were stamped on every feature of the twain in colors not to be mistaken for an instant by the least observing and most superficial and indifferent spectator of the scene. Gossips! What a picture true to life! The engrossing subject of womanly discussion was, of course, Mr. Gold

chopper, the mysterious lodger of the third-floor front. I joined the whispering couple cheerfully.

"He came again," pursued my landlady, in alarmed perplexity, "this very day before my eyes, dressed in a smock-frock and woolen stockings, with a drover's whip in his hand and a shock-wig on his head, and sang ribald ballads to a mob of drunken coal-heavers and snow-shovelers, who went and brought him beer in a pewter pot, which the wretch drank standing. What respectable woman, I want to know, and the widow of a public gorger in the custom-house, could be reasonably expected to bear it longer? That man will drive me mad. My lands alive!"

"Love," said Miss Scrub, with the utmost sympathy and consolation," love, my dear Lamb, takes on many contrairy forms and aspecks. I myself, in earlier years, have seen my myriad lovers in the cinders and at another tender moment in the cistern. It's our nerves, ma'am. We are wires" (which was strictly true of Miss Scrub). "One of 'em said that he often saw me in his shaving-cup, though I thought myself it was oftenest in a mug of beer, for he was face to face with that about every two hours in the twenty-four, his habit to the last. You may depend upon it, my poor Lamb, that a soft and soothing sentiment pervades both hearts, and takes on these beautiful and changing hues in consequence. Let me persuade you not to struggle against it."

"The idea of that man's image," retorted Mrs. Lamb, with vigor, "is loathsome and repugnant to my feminine feelings. Drat him! A bald-headed old sinner of sixty imposing himself on the good nature of a decent woman, who has seen better days, as a respectable gent, when he passes twelve hours in every twenty-four on the cobble-stones of the public streets posing and posturing and making a vulgar, ridiculous spectacle of himself in the presence of porters, and vagrants, and loafers, and drunkards for beggarly coppers, is simply disgraceful and disgusting. Keeping it up, too, for months, week in and week out, as if he were a force-pump or a patent churn. He ought to be brought before the public courts, he ought, for common imposturing. It's lamentable. He ought to be sent up and fined."

"It's not him you see, ma'am," argued Miss Scrub, with energy; "it's his shadder in your buzzum that prints itself on the pavements at your feet, and makes every street-show wear his liniments. It is the holy impulse of love, ma'am, all-pervading love, urging you on to a second marriage, Mrs. Lamb, and in the hardness and stiff-neckedness of your heart, ma'am, you don't recognize the symptoms. They are heaven-inspired."

"Never!" cried the worthy landlady, with intense emotion; "never, Sally Scrub, never, never, never, shall the widow of a public gorger wed that wicked man. A wolf in sheep's clothing,-a snake in the grass-an ojus ogre a monster of iniquity,-perhaps a Bluebeard!