It has frequently been pointed out that our coal-fields are not inexhaustible; but they doubtless contain a sufficient supply for hundreds of years to come. Long before the supply is likely to run short, other sources of nature will be largely drawn upon. These are the winds, waterfalls, tides, and the motion of the waves. The two former have to some extent been utilised; but little or nothing has been done or attempted with the latter. Before these can be to any extent made use of, means must be devised for storing energy in the form of electricity, a problem which is now being vigorously attacked, but as yet without much practical success. That electricity has a great future before it cannot for a moment be doubted. BY MEAD AND STREAM. BY CHARLES GIBBON. CHAPTER L.—A CROW TO PLUCK. The two men stared at each other—Mr Hadleigh with an expression of stern inquiry; Caleb with a sullen audacity which failed to conceal the confusion and disappointment he felt. But he made no attempt to apologise, to explain, or to retreat. After a brief inspection of the man, Mr Hadleigh was reassured: this was no common burglar he had to deal with, and no immediate violence was to be feared. ‘My good man,’ he said calmly, ‘you have wasted your time and labour if you expected to find money or plate here. That safe, which you see is open, contains my cheque-books; but they are worthless to you without my signature. As for what plate and jewels there may be to reward your adventure, they are in different parts of the house, and before you can leave this room to seek them you must murder me. And before you do that, I shall sound this alarm.’ As he spoke he took up a green cord which lay beside his desk. The cord communicated with a bell in the butler’s room, which if rung at that time of night would certainly have aroused the household. ‘I didn’t come here to rob; I didn’t expect to find _you_ in this room, and I don’t mean to hurt you.’ Gruff and surly as Caleb’s manner was, Hadleigh, even in that moment of peril, did him justice. ‘I believe you, Kersey,’ he said quietly; ‘and to prove it, I shall sit down and listen to what explanation you have to give. Something very unusual there must be to have caused you to act as you have done. I told you at the end of the harvest that if I could serve you at any time, I should be pleased to do so. Is that why you have come?’ ‘No,’ was the sulky answer. Although tortured by passion, Caleb was not only sensible of the confidence which Mr Hadleigh showed him under such peculiar circumstances, but felt his self-respect raised by it, and was wishful to make matters clear. The thing somehow stuck in his throat, for he who had broken into the house at midnight had to tell this man of his son’s guilt—as he believed—and of Pansy’s shame. ‘Then what did bring you here and in such an outrageous fashion?’