Chapter XXIV: The Mystery of the Sun Island

Of so great importance was the learning in the books that Regan and Rondah decided to explore the Sun Island and try to regain them.

Father Renaudin ventured to accompany them, although until he had entirely crossed the lava bridge he was not certain that the prohibition concerning his return had been removed. True, he had once stepped upon that sacred soil, but that was in what always seemed to him like a flash of lightning-like desperation and most dangerous presumption. He found no voice nor influence commanding him to retrace his steps, and the three proceeded to make a thorough exploration.

The beautiful isle lay before them, glowing like a gem, as much their own, it seemed, as any patch of earthly stubble. They had not seen it for several busy years. It was more enchanting than of yore. It even appeared larger. The rainbow cloud still hung above it, but the radiance of white, veiling light had gone with the wall. The heights of amber and garnet were clearly defined against the purplish sky of Jupiter. The amber palace stood, but no books were there.

For some days they had climbed the cliffs and penetrated to the ravines, when they were astonished to find near the sea a huge garnet gate. That it had been cut by men’s handicraft from a cliff near by they could see. It was hinged and bolted with silver.

It was open.

“We have found the secret of the isle!” exclaimed Father Renaudin.

“I doubt not we have found one of the secrets of the universe!” answered Regan.

“But,” slowly said Rondah, “shall we go in?”

“Why not? No death in the star!”

“I may not see my little children for many years!”

“They are safe where there is no danger. Come!”

The two, Father Renaudin and Rondah, stood hesitating, looking at the strength of the gate.

“Of what are you two afraid?” asked Regan.

“That the gate will shut!” answered both together.

“Destiny is! Come!” said Regan.

They descended the hewn stairs; as they went into the depths of the star they heard the gate shut with a clang.

“What fate may unbar it?” said Rondah.

“Be sure something will unlock it for us,” said Father Renaudin.

“It has been built by humanity,” said Regan.

The ever-surging sea was silent. The roar of the many volcanoes was not heard.

They soon found that the air and lights in the underground realm existed independently of any outside atmosphere or illumination. At intervals hung above them meteors of large size, which whitely blazed.

For a long distance their uninterrupted progress was through great garnet halls. Then they came into a vast cavern of silver. Silver was everywhere, either frosted or shining. Among supporting columns and through branching tunnels they searched, until they came to a small, round door.

“The gate to Heaven!” whispered Regan, and now he paused and dared not enter upon the field before him.

Here Father Renaudin was brave. Notwithstanding his revelations, the sudden sight of these things made him believe that Gregg Dempster had prepared for them this miracle of brilliance and left it for their delight.

They crept through the door and stood gazing in bewilderment, unable, among the reflections of light, to see where to go. For far before them swept into distance a moving, whispering sea, which was of no water ever known before. It was a tossing sheet of emerald and fire; glittering gems sweeping in liquid flames rolled in long smooth swells to fall in music at their feet.

The shore around was like frost of winter. Many blazing meteors whitened all with brilliance. A palace built by hands stood beside the waters. It had doors made of the silver trees which grew outside on the island. When Regan saw this he began to recover his presence of mind, for never before on the star had he been so utterly confounded.

Then came toward them a giant man. His robes were of jewel-covered fabric. He was most noble, and looked at them with gentlest eyes from a strong, calm face. He held out his hand. As they approached, he said:

“For this hour the star has whirled. This is the measure of a cycle. Fear no further!”

Then he called, and from the palace came hundreds of people, yes, very people of Earth. They were strangely glorified, but men and women, who cried out, in glad acclaim, “The time is here at last!” and who looked with delighted countenances upon these three.

“The long years have passed,” said one.

“They speak as men,” said Rondah.

“Yes,” said the man who towered in majesty so superior to any that he could not be supposed to belong to the same race. “Listen while I tell you the secret of the Sun Island and how it came to be here.”

He moved his hand and a number of boys came forward and scattered upon the white rocks baskets of blossoms, making banks of flowers on which the three seated themselves while the man told them as follows:

“In time primeval, before the sun with its attendant worlds was spoken into being, where now we whirl, on this tiny orb, there rolled two stupendous, peopled worlds more vast than Jupiter. On these dwelt such as I, men whose lives were prolonged for ages. We reasoned for cycles. We built for great periods. We had years granted until we learned too much and grew weary of our knowledge.

“But woe and sin and hate, intensified in evil according to the size of the field and the capacity of the race, existed with us. For centuries my life was only part of a splendid pageant. Then I became troubled at the misery around me. I devoted my time to the unfortunate. Oh, there were so many! Their relief became the only pleasure of my life. I heard the prophecies about me. I noted the signs of impending disaster. I even heard the creaking of the sinews of our old world, and saw the continents being deserted for life beyond; but I was so busy. I hastened to get to a few more nations, and before I was there, while I was saying, ‘Some other time I will lay down my life,’ the globes, like two bubbles in air, burst into millions of fragments and my existence was indefinitely prolonged.

“Previously we had been instructed by agencies of a supernatural character, but I was vouchsafed no explanation, neither granted any instruction. On this fragment—a patch of my world—I floated for some chaotic cycles—somewhere! anywhere!

“Then I saw your sun, with worlds, called into that place where before all had been dark. Ages, oh, ages ago, my island dashed into the mass of hot vapor wherein were floating in steam Earth’s oceans, for then the gaseous ball was very large. Later, I saw the oceans fall upon lava, to be sent off in clouds. I saw continents form, like black ice in scarlet seas, and saw them dashed into pieces to leave no record.

“I saw such forests as these on the star, and saw them with their hot marshes sunken under temporary seas. I began to wonder why was all this. Time became a long sorrow to me. The Earth was a break in its monotony, and when it became the abode of man I could scarce endure my long exile. For each short visit I must away to Saturn’s kingdom out in distance. With farseeing eyes, such as we have, I could look through some years, and see the deeds and also read the hearts of men.

“The souls on earth were as a page to me. All schemes in lives or mysteries of nature I could understand. I could recite to you long histories of the pre-Adamites. I saw the glory of Atlantis before the oceans submerged it. Its wisdom was superior to that of the race now on Earth, its achievement beyond all later achievement. So like gods grew those men that the Earth trembled at their power, and the mandate went forth to destroy their wicked brilliance and unpeople almost all the Earth.

“As I looked at the burnish of its wealth and saw its miraculous prosperity, I bethought me to fly down and save a few souls from the doomed land. With a great air-ship, such as we used in my world, I gathered from the Earth a few, and these are their descendants. Then there was a removal of oceans, an uplifting of other areas. The learning of ages, the temples of nations slept under the sun as I neared the Earth, and slept under the water as I left.

“Then the fragment was too small for us and I bethought me to capture a half-cooled ball of lava not far away. By means of heavy chains and air-ships I hitched my island to this star, and later grafted its roots into the soil. According to the law of my great sphere, the lesser plant began at once to absorb the greater, and then it was revealed to me that when the Sun Island had extended over the entire star, absorbing all the lava substance, transforming all the seas to emerald and flame, I might proceed to realms more fair.

“I still watched Earth, through the glory into which the history of Egypt dies, into the progress of moderns where hope of history lives.

“More than a thousand souls I influenced from time to time. At last, there was born in an English hamlet a boy, Gregg Dempster. His mother died with a mad prayer on her lips: ‘Let him not worship gold! Oh, take him to another, easier world than this!’ In all the years I had not heard so simple a prayer uttered with so awful power of death. From his cradle I watched the child through friendless youth, loveless manhood, monomaniac age, and saw him in abject poverty, yet ever shielded from the greatest grief of men. Often I urged him on, often I taught him secrets, often I gave him courage. I spoke when he lay upon his bier. It was not he. I stood here to meet him when he came first upon the star. I walled for him the Sun Island.

“Then, Regan, my eyes saw you forsaken in the forest, with your little sister in a wilderness. Your mother prayed not but cast herself to death. I thought, ‘Where is some man to save these souls?’ Father Renaudin had had no visions then. While you and Isabella sobbed in the forest, she freezing and you despairing, I lighted for Father Renaudin that vision of his duty which flashed into his eyes and burned into his soul. It made him shake off his habit of slothful luxury, and sent him to where you stood. That very night he found good homes for both of you. Do you remember that, Regan?”

“I shall remember that when the suns have grown cold!” answered Regan.

“I noted that, with all your heavy curse, the curse of the father and the curse of the mother also, you were yet strangely noble. You chose for yourself the humble home of poverty, and gave all the brightness of life to your sister. I wondered would you too forget. Through the imposed silence concerning the relationship I saw you always faithful, always in human love bound beyond power of separation to sever. I was near you when you fought your path through disgrace and poverty in life. In your deepest troubles, in your darkest disgrace, I was there, but I could not excuse your course. I could only pity your weakness and remember the curse of the father, the curse of the father!

“I did not note Rondah until she came, like a ministering spirit, to care for Gregg Dempster when he was near death. The prayer of Gregg Dempster’s mother was answered from Heaven. Father Renaudin and yourself I watched and aided. Rondah was blessed by the kindness of the angel-man!”

“You came to me,” said Father Renaudin, “when I stood on the cliff and with despairing misery looked over the star. You whispered in the air: ‘Man, you have dreamed a god’s dream with human strength! You have been given a field where humanity can accomplish the godlike dream!’ It was time for you to come. My soul fainted, my faith faltered!”

“Yes, it was time. Humanity has so little faith. It has so little revelation. But from this time on I may reveal much. Come!”

They walked along the shore of the emerald sea, the people of Earth about them, but like an angelhood. Wisdom of deathless years was in their eyes.

“From what a race are we degenerate!” said Father Renaudin.

“To what a height may we not rise!” answered Regan.

Rondah had not been so long from Earth as to feel so keenly the wonder as she mingled with a crowd of mankind.

Before them rose a white-walled city; into its streets they walked. The old song was in the air, the song of the Sun Island.

Beyond were fields of sapphire blue, each leaf with the slightest touch of gold upon it.

“These are our fields; these are our seas; here is our city; humanity is our people,” said their guide. “See here!”

They looked to see where the roots of silver had crowded the lava above the branching stems. Seeing them entirely bewildered at the ideas so swiftly presented to them, the man of the old world said:

“Can you not understand? Do you know how a coral builds an island? Can you not believe that a world may be a plant, and a plant may have animal life? They almost, if not quite, approach to it even in your Earth. The star belongs to your sun, but our world was the property of another sun and had a different order to follow. The great ball could think and move, and when we too deeply wrought its brilliant breast, it groaned with an awful voice. We were not astonished at that, as were you, in horror, when the island cried aloud. Look here!”

They saw the ocean, drop by drop, falling through the silver rocks into the emerald sea.

“How long shall I be here?” mused the guide. “Until, drop by drop, the sea of the Sun Island has swallowed the seas of the star! How many drops are there in your seas, Regan? When they are all gone you will be sole monarch of the most lovely star whirling in this portion of the heavenly constellations!

“Let me tell you what you are destined to do here. Not to dwell with bird people nor to wait for the development of elf men. Here is your own race. You have now to select for your outside world twelve such as you choose, and of these will be the kingdoms of the future. Look never for a human soul to evolve from a vegetable nor to rise into the body of a goblin elf man.

“As the star floats you shall teach it all things; make better laws than ever Earth dreamed of; create a paradise! Man should learn to lay each stone to stand for a thousand years. Your records should be on walls of amber, not in books of silver.

“Among the bird people there is no sin, but the human race is still burdened with its taint. When the star is builded with colossal cities, the sea spanned with silver bridges, the hills scintillating with diamond forests, whether or not sin be eradicated remains with you, Regan. Rondah has saved all the bird people; to save humanity is for the king of the star! Come yet further!”

Like a giant marble statue given a life he seemed as he moved in grandeur, the radiance of his robes blinding them. The crowd about were wrapped in cloud-mist of pink, and folds of rainbow were their draperies. The music of the many footfalls was like the tinkling of numberless silver bells.

“Would you see a remembrance of the pre-Adamites?”

There rose before them a vision of altars, robed priests and cloudy incense, flowers, gold, mystery of musical incantation.

“That is one of the old fair scenes of worship. So did primeval man worship a mystery above him.”

Then the vision fled. Another rose.

“That is my world! Oh, blessed home!” said the man of might.

They looked on works of such magnitude that the surface of the star had not been able to uphold them—steeds of immense strength and majestic in motion, vehicles moving a thousand men at once. As this vision also vanished, Regan asked:

“Is then our Earth so inferior?”

“In size and in beauty, yes; in revelation from God blessed above many others.”

Then rose their star as it was to look in the future.

“The dearest land of all!” exclaimed Rondah. “Parzelia!”

“What moving thing is that? What crosses in those swallowing waters?” cried Regan. “Is it a ship for my seas at last?”

“Why need a ship where silver bridges span all channels?” and the man laughed, which strangely shocked them all till they remembered he was not a god. He was even no angel. The island grew as a plant; the visions might be the product of any mind which had had so long to invent. A holier man of greater length of life. This only.

And still in the picture moved the immense vehicle safely through the sea. The sides were veiled in silver and diamond foliage. Sometimes the water surged on its sides, sometimes it was hidden behind smoke of volcano. It moved on. Then Regan saw stone paws stamping in the water heavily.

“It is the island—the island, which lives!” cried he, in triumph.

“Man of Earth, that is the last of this kind of revelation,” said the man of might. “Remember well all I shall show you, for after the gate closes when you return to the outer star it will never be again unbarred! It will be a barrier as impassable as the gulf which separates the lost from happiness! I, under the star, you, upon it, will have our separate existences from now forever! When I depart, you will not know, you will never hear a whisper of our life again! Therefore learn now. The island shall take you to volcanic south or to north no longer arctic. It shall carry your colonists to every land where Jupiter shines.

“See the faint remembrances of my former life! I have made all the models very much smaller than they were of old!”

Then they entered a great building and looked on mysteries innumerable, and on devices for purposes unknown, superseding all earthly art. Machines were there which walked through mountains to tunnel them, others for lifting a continent, if the feat were necessary; machines for flying, contrivances for communicating with other spheres. These were a few among the many of which they could comprehend the use, but not the principle. There were walls of lace-work in gold, temples of lace-work in amber, masses of gem-sheened fabrics, piles of jewels, long lines of golden statuary, and marvels of wind harps with pipes to make mystic music without hands.

When they were weary the man said: “Come float on the sea!”

A circular boat of silver and sailed with pink clouds came to meet them. Around the circular edge sat fifty red-robed oarsmen, wearing high white caps all glinting with gems; they moved the boat across the sea by means of paddles of circular sheets of hammered silver, fastened upon the ends of long staves of blue pearl. The craft was in two sections. The central part was a half-sphere of amber separate from the rest and merely floated by its encircling. On this was a silver canopy where they reposed to watch the scene.

They paused before a length of smooth rising shore, and there were assembled the shimmering multitudes, hailing in earthly voices the advent of the earth-king, Regan. Each one was in robes of jeweled cloth, for it was a gala day. Twelve were to be chosen to go outside the gates, and each one desired to be one of the twelve. They had been happy there for ages, in their constantly expanding kingdom, but they were human and they wanted change. And another thing, they wanted the glory of building a world, for they were of the Atlantean race. They moved like flashes of light.

A group of seers was admitted upon the craft to bring to Father Renaudin books of great importance, sealed bottles of amber, curious flasks of medicines and boxes of precious perfumes. These were laid most reverently at his feet, and, amid his thanks, the seers, with obeisance, moved away.

“I would there were more of these compounds and mixtures,” said the man of the old world. “They are powerful and most necessary. I have not been able to remember a millionth part of the alchemy of old, there were so many things to do, there was so much which I did not prepare. If I had only had more time, it would have been better!”

“And were you,” asked Rondah, “you, who lived for cycles, hurried in your lifetime?”

“Oh, yes! I could not do half. I left all my noblest dreams unrealized; my highest hopes proved fruitless!”

“Impossible!” sighed Father Renaudin.

“Shall we accomplish our mission? Shall we bring a finished life’s work to a world’s end?” asked Rondah.

“Never! never! Eternity is too short to finish the endless labor of a universe! I doubt if God Himself has ever ended his work! From time beginningless to time eternal the march of labor goes on, from little sphere to larger, from lesser soul to greater, from duller intellect to one more brilliant! It is the changeless law for men and for angels alike! Onward, ceaselessly move onward, is the united aim of all dissevered instruments!

“There can come no pause. No man has ever moved an iota back since chaotic universes were spoken into moveless black of horrified space. Nor demon, nor angel, nor God on high has stopped the course, from its accomplished lower task on the path to do its unfinished higher task, of atom or of sun since first the blistering balls of howling, hissing fire were whirled away upon their non-clashing cycles. There is no end to labor! Labor is the duty of suns! Labor is the delight of Heaven!”

“When shall I chain my star? When may I drive it like the isle? When may I say to adverse fate, ‘Stand still?’” asked Regan.

“When you have eradicated sin from the hearts of all this humanity, now removed from the curse of Earth, when you shall have grown more aged and more wise than am I, for I cannot do that,” answered their guide; “no, I cannot do that!”

“What is the limit of our power?” asked Father Renaudin.

“There is no bound to what knowledge humanity may attain, save the clog of sin! Time, strength and study will overcome all other barriers!”

“Monarch of Fate is man! Man yet shall chain the stars; shall drive the harnessed worlds!” said Regan Farmington.

THE END.

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The Mysteries of the Court of Louis Napoleon. _By Emile Zola._ Price
75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold.

The Girl in Scarlet; or, the Loves of Silvère and Miette. _By Emile
Zola._ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth.

Albino; or, The Abbé’s Temptation. A Charming and Pathetic Love Story.
_By Emile Zola._ Paper, 75 cents; cloth, $1.25.

La Belle Lisa; or, The Paris Market Girls. _By Emile Zola._ Price 75
cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in morocco cloth, black and gold.

Hélène, a Love Episode. A Tale of Love and Passion. _By Emile Zola._
Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold.

A Mad Love; or The Abbé and His Court. _By Emile Zola._ Price 75 cents
in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold.

Her Two Husbands. _By Emile Zola._ Paper, 75 cents; cloth, $1.25.

Claude’s Confession. _By Emile Zola._ Paper, 75 cents; cloth, $1.25.

Mysteries of Marseilles. _By Emile Zola._ Paper, 75 cents; cloth,
$1.25.

Magdalen Ferat. _By Emile Zola._ Paper, 75 cents; cloth, $1.25.

Thérèse Raquin. _By Emile Zola._ Paper, 75 cents; cloth, $1.00.

MRS. SOUTHWORTH’S WORKS IN CHEAP FORM.

Ishmael; or, in the Depths—being “Self-Made; or, Out of the Depths.”
Self-Raised; or, From the Depths. Sequel to “Ishmael.”
The Bride of an Evening; or, The Gipsy’s Prophecy.
The Missing Bride; or, Miriam, the Avenger.
The Curse of Clifton; or, The Widowed Bride.
The Changed Brides; or, Winning Her Way.
The Bridal Eve.
The Bride’s Fate.
The Fatal Marriage.

_Above are cheap editions, in paper cover, price 75 cents each._

The Red Hill Tragedy.
Sybil Brotherton.

_Above are cheap editions, in paper cover, price 50 cents each._

Fashion and Famine. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. Cheap edition. 75 cts.

All Books published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa.,
will be sent to any one, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price.

PETERSONS’ SQUARE 12mo. SERIES.

_The following books are printed on tinted paper, and are issued in uniform style, in square 12mo. form. Price 50 cents in Paper, or $1.00 in Cloth._

Rondah; or, Thirty-three Years in a Star. By Florence C. Dieudonné. Helen’s Babies. By John Habberton. With an Illustrated Cover. Mrs. Mayburn’s Twins. By John Habberton, author of Helen’s Babies. Bertha’s Baby. Equal to “Helen’s Babies.” With Illustrated Cover. The Annals of a Baby. Baby’s First Gifts, etc. By Mrs. Stebbins. Bessie’s Six Lovers. A Charming Love Story. By Henry Peterson. Father Tom and the Pope; or, A Night at the Vatican. Illustrated. Not His Daughter. A Society Novel. By Will Herbert. A Bohemian Tragedy. A Novel of New York Life. By Lily Curry. Little Heartsease. Equal to Rhoda Broughton’s. By Annie L. Wright. Two Kisses. A Bright and Snappy Love Story. By Hawley Smart. Her Second Love. A Thrilling, Life-like and Captivating Love Story. A Parisian Romance. _Octave Feuillet’s New Book, just dramatized._ Fanchon, the Cricket; or, La Petite Fadette. By George Sand. Two Ways to Matrimony; or, Is it Love? or, False-Pride. The Matchmaker. By Beatrice Reynolds. A Charming Love Story. The Story of Elizabeth. By Miss Thackeray, daughter of W. M. Thackeray. The Amours of Philippe; or, Philippe’s Love Affairs, by Octave Feuillet. Rancy Cottem’s Courtship. By author of “Major Jones’s Courtship.” A Woman’s Mistake; or, Jacques de Trévannes. A Perfect Love Story. The Days of Madame Pompadour. A Romance of the Reign of Louis XV. The Little Countess. By Octave Feuillet, author of “Count De Camors.” The American L’Assommoir. A parody on Zola’s “L’Assommoir.” Hyde Park Sketches. A very humorous and entertaining work. Miss Margery’s Roses. A Charming Love Story. By Robert C. Meyers. Madeleine. A Charming Love Story. Jules Sandeau’s Prize Novel. Carmen. By Prosper Merimee. _Book the Opera was dramatized from._ That Girl of Mine. By the author of “That Lover of Mine.” That Lover of Mine. By the author of “That Girl of Mine.”

PETERSONS’ SQUARE 12mo. SERIES.

Edmond Dantes. Sequel to Alexander Dumas’ “Count of Monte-Cristo.”
Monte-Cristo’s Daughter. Sequel to and end of “Edmond Dantes.”
The Wife of Monte-Cristo. Continuation of “Count of Monte-Cristo.”
The Son of Monte-Cristo. The Sequel to “The Wife of Monte-Cristo.”
Camille; or, The Fate of a Coquette. (La Dame Aux Camelias.)
Married Above Her. A Society Romance. By a Lady of New York.
The Man from Texas. A Powerful Western Romance, full of adventure.
Erring, Yet Noble. A Book of Women and for Women. By I. G. Reed.
The Fair Enchantress; or, How She Won Men’s Hearts. By Miss Keller.

_Above are in paper cover, price 75 cents each, or $1.25 each in cloth._

Harry Coverdale’s Courtship and
Marriage. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.50.

Those Pretty St. George Girls. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth, gilt,
$1.00.

Vidocq! The French Detective.
Illustrated. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

The Black Venus. _By Adolphe Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth,
Belot._ $1.00.

La Grande Florine. _By Adolphe
Belot._ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

The Stranglers of Paris. _By
Adolphe Belot._ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

All Books published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa.,
will be sent to any one, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price.

PETERSONS’ SQUARE 12mo. SERIES.

Major Jones’s Courtship. 21
Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Major Jones’s Georgia Scenes. 12
Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Major Jones’s Travels. 8
Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Simon Suggs’ Adventures. 10
Illustrations. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.00.

Louisiana Swamp Doctor. 6
Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

The Initials. ‘A. Z.’ By Baroness
Tautphœus. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.25.

Indiana! A Love Story. By George
Sand. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Consuelo. By George Sand. Paper cover, Price 75 cents; cloth,
$1.00.

Countess of Rudolstadt. _Sequel to
Consuelo._ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Mark Maynard’s Wife. By Frankie F.
King. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

The Master of L’Etrange. By Eugene
Hall. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

Dora’s Device. By George R. Cather. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

Snob Papers. A Book Full of Roaring
Fun. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

Karan Kringle’s Courtship and Journal. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50.
The Prairie Flower, and Leni-Leoti. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth,
$1.00.

Monsieur, Madame, and the Baby. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth,
$1.00.

L’Evangéliste. By Alphonse Daudet. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

The Duchesse Undine. By H. Penn
Diltz. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

The Hidden Record. By E. W.
Blaisdell. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

A Russian Princess. By Emmanuel
Gonzales. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

A Woman’s Perils; or, Driven from
Home. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

A Fascinating Woman. By Edmond
Adam. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

La Faustin. By Edmond de Goncourt. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

Monsieur Le Ministre. By Jules
Claretie. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

Winning the Battle; or, One Girl in
10,000. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

A Child of Israel. By Edouard
Cadol. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

The Exiles. The Russian ‘Robinson
Crusoe.’ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

My Hero. A Love Story. By Mrs.
Forrester. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.00.

Paul Hart; or, The Love of His Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth,
Life. $1.25.

Mildred’s Cadet; or, Hearts and
Bell-Buttons. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Bellah. A Love Story. By Octave
Feuillet. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Sabine’s Falsehood. A Love story. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth,
$1.00.

Linda; or, The Young Pilot of the
Belle Creole. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.25.

The Woman in Black. Illustrated
Cover. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

Madame Bovary. By Gustave Flaubert. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

The Count de Camors. _By Octave
Feuillet._ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25.

How She Won Him! A Love Story. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth,
$1.25.

Angèle’s Fortune. By André Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth,
Theuriet. $1.25.

St. Maur; or, An Earl’s Wooing. Paper cover, price 75 cents, cloth,
$1.25.

The Prince of Breffny. _By Thomas
P. May._ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.50.

The Earl of Mayfield. _By Thomas P.
May._ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00.

MRS. F. H. BURNETT’S NOVELLETTES.

Kathleen. A Love Story. By author of “That Lass o’ Lowries.”
Theo. A Love Story. By author of “Kathleen,” “Miss Crespigny,” etc.
Lindsay’s Luck. A Love Story. By Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett.
Pretty Polly Pemberton. By author of “Kathleen,” “Theo,” etc.
A Quiet Life. By Mrs. Burnett, author of “That Lass o’ Lowries.”
Miss Crespigny, _also_ Jarl’s Daughter. By Mrs. Burnett.

_Above are in paper cover, price 50 cents each, or in cloth, at $1.00 each._

All Books published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa.,
will be sent to any one, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price.

HENRY GRÉVILLE’S CHARMING NOVELS.

The Princess Roubine. _A Russian Love Story. By Henry Gréville._
Dosia. _A Russian Story. By Henry Gréville_, author of “Markof.”
Savéli’s Expiation. A Powerful Russian Story. By Henry Gréville.
Tania’s Peril. A Russian Love Story. By Henry Gréville.
Sonia. A Love Story. By Henry Gréville, author of “Dosia.”
Lucie Rodey. A Charming Society Novel. By Henry Gréville.
Bonne-Marie. A Tale of Normandy and Paris. By Henry Gréville.
Xenie’s Inheritance. A Tale of Russian Life. By Henry Gréville.
Dournof. A Russian Story. By Henry Gréville, author of “Dosia.”
Mam’zelle Eugenie. A Russian Love Story. _By Henry Gréville._
Gabrielle; or, The House of Maurèze. By Henry Gréville.
A Friend; or, “L’Ami.” By Henry Gréville, author of “Dosia.”

_Above are in paper cover, price 50 cents each, or in cloth, at $1.00 each._

Zitka; or, The Trials of Raïssa. A Russian Love Story, from which the Popular Play of “Zitka” was dramatized. _By Henry Gréville._ The Princess Oghérof. _A Love Story. By Henry Gréville._

_Above are in paper cover, price 75 cents each, or in cloth, at $1.00 each._

Marrying Off a Daughter. _A Love Story. By Henry Gréville._ Sylvie’s Betrothed. _A Charming Novel. By Henry Gréville._ Philomène’s Marriages. A Love Story. _By Henry Gréville._ Guy’s Marriage; _also_ Pretty Little Countess Zina. _By Henry Gréville._

_Above are in paper cover, price 75 cents each, or in cloth, at $1.25 each._

Markof, the Russian Violinist. Paper cover, 75 cents; cloth, $1.50.

THE “COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO SERIES.”

The Count of Monte-Cristo.
Illustrated. Paper cover, $1.00, cloth, $1.50.

Edmond Dantes. Sequel to
“Monte-Cristo.” Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.25.

Monte-Cristo’s Daughter. Paper cover, 75 cents; cloth,
$1.25.

The Countess of Monte-Cristo. Paper cover, $1.00, morocco cloth,
$1.50.

The Wife of Monte-Cristo. Paper cover, 75 cents, morocco
cloth, $1.25.

The Son of Monte-Cristo. Paper cover, 75 cents, morocco
cloth, $1.25.

BOOKS BY AUTHOR OF “A HEART TWICE WON.”

A Heart Twice Won; or, Second Love. _A Love Story. By Mrs. Elizabeth
Van Loon._ Morocco cloth, black and gold. Price $1.50.

Under the Willows; or, The Three Countesses. _By Mrs. Elizabeth Van
Loon_, author of “A Heart Twice Won.” Cloth, and gold. Price $1.50.

The Shadow of Hampton Mead. _A Charming Story. By Mrs. Elizabeth Van
Loon_, author of “A Heart Twice Won.” Cloth. Price $1.50.

The Mystery of Allanwold. _A Thrilling Novel. By Mrs. Elizabeth Van
Loon_, author of “A Heart Twice Won.” Cloth, and gold. Price $1.50.

The Last Athenian. _By Victor Rydberg._ Translated from the Swedish.
Large 12mo. volume, near 600 pages, cloth, black and gold, price
$1.75.

The Roman Traitor; or, The Days of Cicero, Cato, and Cataline. _A Tale
of the Republic. By Henry William Herbert._ Morocco cloth, price
$1.75.

Francatelli’s Modern Cook Book for 1888. _Enlarged Edition._ With the
most approved methods of French, English, German, and Italian
Cookery. With 62 Illustrations. 600 pages, morocco cloth, price
$5.00.

All Books published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa.,
will be sent to any one, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price.

Emile Zola’s Greatest Works.

NANA AND L’ASSOMMOIR.

“_Nana_” and “_L’Assommoir_” are the greatest as well as the most powerful and wonderful novels ever written. They have created a great sensation everywhere, as the literary event of the century, over five hundred thousand copies of “_Nana_” and “_L’Assommoir_” having been sold in Paris alone. Zola is literally true to life in his powerful delineations. His books are immortal because they are true.

LIST OF ÉMILE ZOLA’S GREAT WORKS.

Petersons’ Translations in English for American Readers.

=Nana!= The Sequel to “L’Assommoir.” =Nana!= _By Emile Zola. With a Picture of “Nana” on the cover._ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or One Dollar in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=L’Assommoir; or, Nana’s Mother.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_.” _With a Picture of “Gervaise,” Nana’s mother, on the cover._ Price 75 cents in paper, or One Dollar in Cloth.

=Christine, the Model; or Studies of Love.= _By Emile Zola_, author of _“Nana” and “L’Assommoir.”_ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=Renée.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_,” etc. _With a Portrait of Renée on the cover._ Zola’s New Play of “Renée” was dramatized from this book. Paper, 75 cents; Cloth, $1.25.

=The Shop Girls of Paris=, with their Life and Experiences in a Large Dry Goods Store. _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_.” Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth.

=The Mysteries of the Court of Louis Napoleon.= _By Emile Zola_, author of _“Nana” and “L’Assommoir.”_ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=Nana’s Brother.= The Son of “Gervaise” and “Lantier” of “L’Assommoir.” _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_.” Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=The Girl in Scarlet: or, The Loves of Silvère and Miette.= _By Emile Zola_, author of _“Nana” and “L’Assommoir.”_ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth.

=The Paris Market Girls; or, La Belle Lisa.= _By Emile Zola_, author of _“Nana” and “L’Assommoir.”_ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=A Mad Love; or, The Abbé and His Court.= _By Emile Zola_, author of _“Nana” and “L’Assommoir.”_ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=The Joys of Life.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_,” “_L’Assommoir_,” etc. With an Illustration on cover. Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth.

=Claude’s Confession.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_,” “_L’Assommoir_,” “_Pot-Bouille_,” “_The Girl in Scarlet_,” etc. Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=Pot-Bouille.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_,” “_L’Assommoir_,” etc. With an Illustrated Cover. Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=Her Two Husbands.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_,” “_L’Assommoir_,” “_Pot-Bouille_,” “_The Girl in Scarlet_,” etc. Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth.

=Hélène.= A Tale of Love and Passion. _By Emile Zola_, author of _“Nana” and “L’Assommoir.” With a Picture of “Hélène” on the cover._ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth.

=The Mysteries of Marseilles.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_,” “_L’Assommoir_,” “_The Girl in Scarlet_,” etc. Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=Albine; or, The Abbé’s Temptation.= _By Emile Zola_, author of _“Nana” and “L’Assommoir.” With a Picture of “Albine” on the cover._ Price 75 cents in paper, or $1.25 in Cloth.

=Magdalen Ferat.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_.” _With a Picture of “Magdalen Ferat” on the cover._ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=Thérèse Raquin.= _By Emile Zola_, author of “_Nana_.” _With a Portrait of “Emile Zola” on the cover._ Price 75 cents in paper cover, or One Dollar in Cloth, Black and Gold.

=Nana’s Daughter.= A Continuation of and Sequel to Emile Zola’s Great Realistic Novel of “_Nana_.” Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.00 in Cloth, Black and Gold.

☞ _Petersons’ American Translations of Emile Zola’s works are for sale
by all Booksellers and at all News Stands everywhere, or copies of any
one book, or more of them, will be sent to any one, to any place, at
once, post-paid, on remitting the price of the ones wanted in a letter
to the Publishers._

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, Philadelphia, Pa.

A BOOK TO DAZZLE, FASCINATE AND DELIGHT ALL READERS.

RONDAH

OR,

Thirty-three Years in a Star.

BY FLORENCE CARPENTER DIEUDONNÉ.

_“Rondah; or, Thirty-three Years in a Star,” a peculiarly fascinating and absorbing novel by Florence Carpenter Dieudonné, is written in the fruitful vein of fancy and mystery opened by H. Rider Haggard in “She” and “King Solomon’s Mines,” but in many points surpasses those weird and popular romances. It is exceedingly clever and brilliant. The plot is ingenuity itself, and the incidents are strange and inexplicable enough to satisfy the strongest craving for the marvellous. In fact, the entire book is but a progression from one marvel to another, each succeeding episode distancing its predecessors in the element of wonder until the climax is reached in the disclosure of the mysteries and dazzling magnificence of that truly astounding spot, the Sun Island. Gregg Dempster, a visionary hermit, has discovered a little star, an uncooled planet yet in process of formation, and a mysterious method of reaching it. His friend Regan gains possession of his secret and the hermit dies. Regan, Roy Lee, Isabella, Rondah and Father Renaudin, a venerable priest, are in Dempster’s hut during a storm while the hermit’s corpse is yet lying there. Regan watches for the critical moment. It comes. He puts Rondah out of doors and the four remaining personages are whirled away to the star, where they meet with numerous wonderful adventures and experiences. Rondah is subsequently conveyed to the star and participates in many intensely weird and dramatic scenes. To the supernatural phases of the novel the author has added mortal love, hate, jealousy and enthusiasm, employing them with rare art and effect. The star’s luxuriant summer with its wealth of vegetation and its icy winter of twenty years are graphically pictured. The natives are mostly bird people, winged and of vegetable growth, and over them Regan reigns as king. “Rondah” is crisply and vigorously written, and its special charm is the realistic way in which its wonders are depicted, an air of probability being maintained throughout all its marvellous incidents. That everybody will read and vastly relish it goes without saying._

One Volume, Duodecimo. Paper Cover. Price Fifty Cents.

☞ _“Rondah; or, Thirty-three Years in a Star,” will be found for sale by all Booksellers and at all News Stands everywhere, or copies of it will be sent to any one, to any place, at once, post-paid, on remitting the price to the publishers_,

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, Philadelphia, Pa.

A WOMAN’S STORY—FERVID, GLOWING, PASSIONATE AND REPENTANT.

WHO CARES?

EPISODES IN THE LIFE OF MARY CAMPBELL.

FACTS, NOT FANCIES.

BY MRS. HARRIET N. K. GOFF.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY REV. DR. THEODORE L. CUYLER.

_“Who Cares?” is a book which every one should read, especially every one who desires to promote social purity. It is the autobiography of a Magdalen, the casting out of whose devils was clearly followed by the inbreathing of the Divine Spirit which gives the healed the power to become the healer. Mary Campbell, like the Mary Magdalen of Scripture, became possessed of seven times the blessed spirit of ministration which most people have after the seven devils were cast out of her. She was a child of inharmonious parentage—of a cultured though vicious and cruel father, and an ignorant and passionate mother. No love in her home, but gross cruelty and hardship abounded, rendered yet more unendurable by outcroppings of refinement inherited from remote ancestry. Begotten, as she and her brother and sisters were, of depraved desires only, and thus tainted in the substratum of their natures, reared without love, though hungering for it, and in poverty that was utter destitution of all that either soul, body, or heart could crave, the sound sense and strength of mind and native ability evinced in Mary’s narrative prove clearly that to her fell a large portion of the heritage of her paternal grandmother, and that her reformation was deep and real. The story was written while Death glared into the very face of the poor girl whose secret wore her life out; indeed, it was finished almost with her expiring breath. Hers was a soul at one with its Maker, and terribly alive to the miseries of those in the horrible pit whence she was rescued. The “great cry of her soul” commends the book to every lover of humanity, every father, mother, mistress, young man and young woman, the influential and the friendless, the Christian and the Christless, the law-maker and the law-breaker, and each will find a lesson there, which will “make for good.” The reader is held spellbound from the first page to the last, and cannot close the volume without knowing himself possessed of new thoughts, clearer views, higher aims, better understanding and broader charity to aid in answering the question: “Who Cares?” Poor Mary, of blessed memory now! “Poor Kate” and “Poor little Maggie!” What else could have been expected? The Woman’s Christian Temperance Unions should have the book, the White Cross army and the Black Cross army, male and female._

One Volume, Duodecimo. Paper Cover. Price Fifty Cents.

_“Who Cares?” will be found for sale by all Booksellers and at all News Stands everywhere, or copies of it will be sent to any one, to any place, at once, post-paid, on remitting Fifty Cents in a letter to the publishers_,

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, Philadelphia, Pa.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.