OCR Interpretation


The morning call. (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, December 07, 1890, Image 14

Image and text provided by University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn94052989/1890-12-07/ed-1/seq-14/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for 14

14
MADELEINE: A LOVE STORY.
WRITTEN FOR THE SUNDAY CULL BY GEORGES OHNET; THE ENGLISH ADAPTATION BY
PHILLIP E PREVOST.
CHAPTER L
L. JU. — JP CT-pBAT a beautiful girl!"
y \ \ \ //cried Lieutenant Ar
/ \ / \/S mand Guillot to his
\V A Vr * rieild ' ene Dumontier,
\ / \ / as the two young men
r_ _l halted mid gn/ed after
the fair creature who had tinted by thorn
almost like a vision in a dream. "I never
saw a sweeter face," continued Guillot,
"and no grnss shall grow under my feet un
til 1 hive made her acquaintance. You
surely must know her, Kenc?"
" Only by sight," replied Dum.ntier;
" but take rare, my boy, or we shall be
rivals, for it was love »t first sight with me,
too. Her name Is Madeleine aud she's the
daughter of Maitre Zepfeyre, the wealthy
farmer of Bosc-Heftail near this city. An
only i hid, she hits been Carefully educated,
and Is said to be as clever and lovable as
she Is beautiful; but a bit of a coquette
withal."
liene Dumontier was the son of one of
the leading notaries in the old city of Yve
'.. :, in the ninth of France, so famous in
-■rig ard history as constituting a little
kingdom all by itself. The story is a
strange one: It seeni that the French King,
Clotaire. slew one of the Lords of Yvetot
before the very altar of the cathedral of
Solwmis. and, to make amends for his ter
riiilo crime, decreed that the Lords of
Vvetnt should thereafter and until the end
of time be real Kings, Kings i>f Yvetot.
Ii is one of these p< od little Kings of
Yvetot nvlio has always been such a favorite
with French p< eti and been held up by
them In .-tri'iis contrast to the renl Kinns
who seemingly take such plensurein taxing
Mid oppressing their people Hhddriving them
(■lf to be slain in useless wars.
Lieutenant (ii'illot bad just graduated
from Ilia military scnool and was very
)ir"Ud of the gold Ince nf his handsome uni
form, which set off to line advantage Hit
erect and graceful carriage. Ilia apple-red
cheek- and warm era* eyes, bowevr, wre
in strong contra**, to the pale and scholarly
faic of nis friend Dumontirr, whom be was
now visiting, DuuKiiUier's father being his
guardian.
Gnillo'. liad passed very little of hi* life in
Yvetot and i euee It was quite nstural that
he should have turned tv his friend fir in
formation concerniug the beaulitul Made
leine. As th« farmer's daughter disap
peared in ibe distance, a strange silence fell
upc 11 the vi uiiji officer and he waited along
with lii» gaze fixed npoo the ground.
"Come, c. me, Armaml," said the notary's
son ; "don't tike thi.s thhigso much to heart.
You're a -oldier and, you'll win the love of
nmidens as easily as the bays of vict ry.
Soldii-rs ami sailor*, you know, are pro
verbially heartless. Lave-maklng is a mere
pastime with them."
" Tut, tut, lime," replied his friend.
"Don't speak so lightly of this matter. I
tell y»u 1 love that girl madly, and although
ii uibv be luve at fiir-t Mulit, yet that's the
most dangenma kind, so I'm told. It's like
a shot at close range; it tears its way
through with terrible effect."
Again a dead bileueo came upon the. two
friends as they crossed Him public square in
Hit- grand old town and directed their foot
steps toward thn clult-roonn. It was early
in tlio afternoon and very few member;, had
made t!i ir appearance. Tlie notary's soa
led the way into the reading-room, and,
strange to s,iy, the two young nieu instiaot
iyely drew apart and took seats on opposite
-i.les ol ihe room. Tiiey both unhooked a
file of patera from the rack and seemed to
be suddculy deeply engrossed in rending,
but a keen observer would not have failed
j<< notice that it wa» a mere semblance of at
tention, that in reality neither of them was
reading a word, it was a mere pretext on
the par; i f each to enable him to think
calmly ever thn adventure of the half-hour
lust pa-sed and the words which it had
prompted each to speak to the other.
Tlie notary's sou had been flippant, al
most jestfnL \\";is it not a mere siibter
luge? bid h* not mean t,i throw his frieud
off bis guard in older the better to outstrip
him In his r.ice for Mad-leine's heart? As a
rule, liciie was anything but flippant. To
him lije. was an earnest problem— so
earnest, in fact, that he hnd tbi s far
brought to naught all the efforts of hi-j
lather, t!.e < Id notary, to inveigle him into
marriage, liene would not be humeJ; he
wanted time to think the matter over. The
yo;ing officer knew all this, and hence had
lie been particularly struck by his friend's
banter and sc ftiug. It siartled him. lie
found himself gazing hlankly at the news
p.iper whi; h he was holding up before his
eyes, and with a sudden impulse tie tussed
tli» file of papers a«ide, sprang up and
walked to where the notary's eon was
s'.tti'i^.
"lline;" excltimed O-iillot solemnly, so
. solemnly that iiis frifeud was quite startled
by it
"F»r heaven's sake, Armand," answered
Dmnoßtler; "what's the matter? You
really frightened me. I didn't hear your
step. I was thinking about Madeleine."
The young officer fairlj staggered as this
name struck his ear. It (teemed to him that
the iidtaiy's son hail not prouounced it in a
sufficiently respectful tone of voice. Al
though ho hnd heard the name of Madeleine
Euoken a thousand times in his life, yet for
this on c, the souud of the word sent a
mysterious thrill through his frame. He
wa« uron the point of crying out: "Sir,
don't presume to mention that lady dy her
fir-t name in that way to me!" when he be
thought himself and forcing a smile to his
lip-, spoke a* follows:
"Kene, I believe it is an old German
proverb which says that in money matters
all sociability ceases. I think it should be
amend' d and the woris " love affairs" be
Vut in place of "money matters." If any
one had ever told me that anything in the
shape of a woman could ever come between
us so as to endangerour life-long friendship.
1 shoiil'i have been iutinitely amused, and
yet I tiud myself oppressed by a mysterious
something at thisei.rly stage in the proceed
ings. Dumontier," continued the young
officer, lowering his voice, "we must be
careful — "
"Why, what do you mean, Armand?" in
terrupted the notary's son. coloring np ns he
met the earnest look of Guillol's big round
eyes.
"I mean," replied his friend. " that in this
matter we must be more than honorable—
«c must be Donor Itself. Madeleine must
tx- the sole arbiter of our fates. We must
not -nor must any one for us— strive in any
w-iy to gain an undue advantage. I sueak
after tin- manner of my profession. It must
lie a fair liaht in an oiwn field. There must
be no ambushes, no masked batteries, no
strat-geins. We must have no allies, no
companions in arms. We must ride forth
with lances couchant, living the device,
'May tne best man win." Do you agree
with me. ReueV"
" I do, uiou assuredly!" exclaimed the
notary's son, in a very e.irne*t t"De of voi' c ;
" and speaking for n.ysuif. while I'm will
ing to r.dniit that I have, in a manner that ig
characteristic of me. Admired this fair mai
<len for more than a year, yet have I never
either to her father, whom I know, or to
any living being, breathed a confession of
my love. So, my deiir Armand. we stand
on equal footing."
"Not go, my friend," replied the yonng
j.meer; 'youarearicn man's son, while I
have nothing but my sword, and its blade
is, as you know, new and bright."
"Ah, true, mv boy," made answer Dn
innntier «itli a sigh ; " but you have wtiat I
Jac.k-a fine figure and a handsome face."
A faint blush ran up toward the young
onirer s hairas liecrle<! out:
"Good! th«n we are perfectly matched "
and reaching out his rinut liand he grasped
liis friend's rigltt, firmly and heartily, w hiie
uiiim.-t iustiuctively their left hands flew
iiiii< the air in token of a solemn compact.
Kaen looked the oilier full in the eyes,
ami each seemed satisfied tlmt there was no
guile or reservation of thnuuht in tlie
honest and manly gleam which he saw
there.
It so happened about tins time that
Notary Dumontier was summoned to attend
Maitre Zephyre at the latter's spacious resi
dence at Uosc-Mesnil, for the arrangement
ol some property transfer, aud as two wit
nesses would be necessary, the notary in-
viiod his son and bis word to accompany
liim. The two young men were presented
to the beautiful Madeleine, mid the friendly
but not Ibbb earnest contest lircim at once.
The farmer* daughter seemed rather
amused than seriously touched by the
marked attention of the two friends while
as fur ilaitre Zepbyre, in his homely but
forcible hiuguage he informed the old
notary that "the only dift'eteuce between a
ricii man's son and a young unity officer was
that one spent money which his own father
had i in :,r.i, while the oiher spent money
some one else's father had earned."
But there was a surprise iv store for the
farmer of Bosc-Mesuil, and it came to him a
few wirU later in the shape of a double
offer of marriage for the hand of hie daugh
ter, the notary actiug for his ward as well
as tot liis son.
'" You must make your selection, Maitre
Zephyr*," cried the old notary, laughingly.
"They are both good boys, but oue has a
pot of mo ey ana the other next to noth
ing."
" Hn, ha!" chuckled the peasant farmer;
"it seems, friend Duinoutier, that we com
mon pee pie are pood enough for you aristo
crats when our lands are t>r ad. Zounds!
all the spendthrifts in Yvetot want to marry
Madeleine and go to l'aris and live tn the
proceeds of my farms. Tliey'll not do it!
I'll have nouu of them, not even your pale
faced boy!"
Several days after this iutorviow Maitre
Zephyre carried his answer to Notary Du
uiniiii-r.
"I tvll you, friend Dumontier," said he,
"what I've told all the others who come to
me with iheir fine promises. I'll not give
my uirl away! I've spent twenty thousand
francs educating her. She has a mind of
her own. bin- knows what she wants better
than 1 do. Wlieu she gets ready, slie'll
make her own pick. Tell those youngsters
tliHi's what Maitre Zepiiyre says."
\\ hen !{• ua beard ihis decision ou the part
of the. old farui.r, his heart strings snapped,
for htt Mad hoped that his fa.hers money
would Influence the thr!f:y peasant to favor
his suit. No«r that the question of loitune
was eliminated fruin the contest, Bens
becam- suddenly conscious of his woe
ful lack of that ability to translate his feel
ings inti words. 1 Hat he loved Madeleine
a» deeply as Guillot, ha did not liouut, but
would he be able to tell her 80, and to tell
her so iv su. h a way as to persuade her that
he was speaking the truth.
That w :ts the question, aud a vory Import
ant question it eras.
Days and weeks went by, and with such
exquisite coquetry did the beautiful Made
leine repel tne earnest attentions of the two
(rieuds Chat they half began to persuade
themselves Unit she wuujd really cud in dis
missing tliein both as suitors.
'lhe time was now approaching when the
King of Yvet.it was ftecustomed to entertain
the nobles unit gentry of his tiuy kingdom
by a series of fetes. A thousand colored
lanterns shed a melo'.v nrtiaooa upon the
fouuttt.us and banks of Sowers, imparting v
fascinating air of unreality to Urn gardens
aud conservatories. At one of these fct-'s it
was th a I (iui Hot led the fair Madeienie at tn«
eiid nf a w l;z, out of the glare of the ball
room and into the. seeming world of fantasy
which lay around tlio cii.ileau.
Armaud could distinctly fiel against his
arm the ttirob ul her hear:, now that lU beat
was intensified by the intoxicating measure
ol the waltz.
"Mad-n.oi-elle," he uttered almost in a
whisper, "my leave of absence has almost
run iis length — "
InstiuetiTely Madeleine drew cl iser to
Arinand'a sme as toese words were spoken,
and lie could iaint:y feel her bold tighten
upon his arm.
"Nay, Madek-ine," continued Guillot,
scarcely above a whisper, '•thai is nut all.
After a few days ia Paris 1 must hurry on
to Marseilles and jnju my regiment, tor ii
h.s been ordered to Tnnquiu."
Madeleine shuddered aod her he rt seemed
to miss \i beat, foi she raised her band to
her throat and pressrd it there as if tv en
courage life to resume its healtiilul march.
"Miiiu'leitie," muriuun-d Annan), "the
time has conn-; you must speak nr— "
At 1 1 . i— moment a cluster of white rosis,
pmueil upon her corsage, was loosened by
her arm, which still lay across her bosom,
and tell to the ground. Guillot st oped and
picked them up. and as he did .-j the figure
of the n •tary'.s ton appeared on the grav
eled walk. If- was seeking Madeline.
wlk> was pledged t>. him fur tiie next daner.
As Arnian.l held the roses out, Madeleine
fixed her glorious eyes full upon his lace.
They were tilled with tears.
"Keen them. Oh. kapptbem!" she whis
pered as sue laid her ungloved hind tvlthla
Armaad's for a brief iustant; then turned
away and hastened toward Dumontier.
Guillot quickly thrust t be roses Into the
brea«i of his tight-fitting uniform coat and
stood there watching ihat. retreating figure,
so tall, so like a wood nymph's id its nntive
grace aiid beauty ; and as he sto'd thus
sti anting JiLs eyes to follow bar, thut wad of
crushed roses seomed to be Darning into his
very heart's fiber. But its Cr» was raeii a
bli-i-ftil pain that many tataiita pu«sed ere
he coulu biiue himself to move away, lest
by stirring he might >ta> the charm of' those
flowers which still glowed with tiie warmth
of the bosom beam which they had fallcu.
CHAPTER 11.
Andre Koulanger had graduated fr .iv the
Military Academy in the same class with
Guillot and bvcu assigned to the sa.ne regi
ment, au.i no hand grasped Armaad's With
BoFo cordiality than di-i his iiiwn the return
of nis classmate from the old town of
Yvetot.
Loulangir was a genuine Parisian, as
ready for a duel as fora drinking bout— a
h . i.'i-i.nie fellow, with lnri;e, dark eres,
curly biown I, air and small, regular te Hi,
as while as a dog's. It »a< not to bi- won
dered at tliat Wiin v turned solt glances
ujiori this hauils me face. But Buu auger's
admiration was for the sex iv general.
2i"Lif( bCtooaberttode*ob>oue*a - if to one
woman," was one of his fay rite nhibbii-
Ifths. As every fiber of his frame was at
tended t>y brnwry, thn news tln-.i His lesi
uieut nad been ordered to Tonquin was
extremely pleasing to him, and almost tne
lirst word he uttered after encircling Guillot
in a vigorous embrace was :
"Ah, but Annnnd. ray boy. isn't this
superb 1 To think that in less than sixty
days we are to smell gunpowder on a rea!
battle-field. Ha, ha, ha, it is nlniost too
good to be true. But hearken, comrade,
do you know what I'm going to do? Kvery
Celestial I kill I'm going to cut off his cue
and take home the collection fur braids for
my sweethearts in Paris. II», ha. ha!"
Guillot made a wry facp.
"Why, moo dieti, Guillot, what's the mat
ter?" inquired Andre. "You look no
changed; you're not the same jolly fellow
yon used to be. Look you, I'll WRger ten
francs to a wi*p of straw Unit you've fallen
in love with some country beauty."
" Thorp can be no wager on a certainty,"
replied Guillnt, quietly. "You've struck it,
Andre. 1 have fallen in love; nay, mnro.
I'm engaged to be married to one of the
sweetest women that ever drew breath — an
angel, a ]>erfeot angel."
" Oh, bah!" cried Lieutenant Boulaimer;
"that's pnough for me. When a man sinks
so lowas to call a woman an angel in solemn
.11 if l ~- h
earnest he has my sympathy. A woman
who h eofd n apt to be constant, aud a
woman who is constant is a l>»re."
-Arniiiiid l:iusli<:d heartily at his friend*
raillery.
"Ah, but wait till you seomy Madcleinel"
he cvcl iimcil.
"lint lias sli.' money?" asked Boulanger,
with an air of impatunei'.
"Yes, liit lather is said to be wealthy,''
replied Anuatid.
"Good, that reconciles me to your blunder,
for, my dear hoy," cried the other, "mar
riage is a blunder unless a woninn lias
money; and even Ihen it is only excusable
on the ground of dire necessity, but I trust
you cave her your photograph, for tun
chances to one she'll never see you again.
1 am told thesu Celestials are good marks
men even if their eyes are set crooked in
their heads."
Many were the long hours which Guillot
whiled away by tales of Madeleine's good
ness and lovelinn-s. Boulangor ended by
becoming so much interested in this Normau
maiden that be found liirn*elf encouraging
his comrade to discourse upon her many
vlriues.
Long before they had reached Tonnuin
Andre Boulanger came to know the road
from i vetot to Bosc-Mesnil almost as well
THE MORNING CALL. SAN FRANCISCO. SUNDAY. DECEMBER 7. 1890-SIXTEEN PAGES,
as if be had trodden it as oft en as Armand
had. The uncompromising Parisian was
quite persuaded at last that there might be
other parts of the world besides the French
capital to which one might, under certain
peculiar circumstances, become really at
tached ; and he secretly resolved that if the
Celestials failed to make a cold corpse of him
lie would, upon his return to France, try the
effect of those charms which Armand In
sisted were inherent in flowering hedges,
dark-green meadow land, fields of golden
grain and long stretches of pasturage with
groups of soft-eyed cattle browsing on the
tender herbage or ruminating under the
clumps of trees wliich dotted these fields, all
of which were so vividly described by Ar
niand as making up the delicious landscape
between Yvetot and Bosc-Mesnil.
Above all had the frivolous Parisian been
touched by his comrade's description of a
certain pond near tho spacious farm build
ings, which the ruoon silvered like a lingo
shield of Achilles the night he parted with
the fair maiden of Bosc-Mesnil, and how
beneath that glorious firmament the lovers
lmd stood, with wide borders of flowers
between them and the water, and ex
changed vows that onlydeath could possibly
release them from.
There was one thing wliich Guillot, un
like Boulanger, had liriuly resolved to do
upon reaching Tonquin, and that was to do
his duty and no more. No fighting for the
mem fun of it, no taking of risks, no rushing
upon the enemy with reckless impetuosity
with an idea of winning decoration or of
dying in the attempt
"My life belongs to my darling Madeleine,"
he would murmur to himself, "and 1 intend
to take good care of it for her."
Not to the hot-headed and reckless Bou
langer. Nothing seemed to give him more
pleasure than to be aroused at midnight to
take command of skirmishers or lead a de
tachment to repulse an attack on the out
i osts. No sooner had the dashing Parisian
come oft unhurt from one affair than he was
ready for another. Warnings, even repri
mands, had no effect upon him. In oue of
these engagements the cry went up that
Lieutenant Boulnneer had been captured.
This meant death by horrible torture. At
sight of his comrade in the hands of the.
enemy and dragged senseless and bleeding
over rocks and arroyos, even thoughts of
Madeleine were not powerful enough to re
strain Guillot from making a desperate at
tempt to save his friend.
Calling upon tiiosa of his mi>n who were
willing to make up a forlorn hope to follow
him, Guiilot dashed off in pursuit of the
band. His vehemence infected his mini
and they fell upon the Celestial! with a fury
that astounded them. After a hard light,
hut nut until Guillot had been .seven 1 !}
wounded, was the rescue accomplished.
When Boulnnger had regained conscious
ness be derated his friend soundly foi nii
periling his life in that way.
"The next time." added Boolanger, "re
member Boso-Mesnil and dou't tnko any
chances. There Is no our; waiting for me.
that's the advantage 1 liavo over you."
liut in spile of this frivolous speech,
Andre was oeeply touched by the devotion
of his friend, and he quietly resolved that
if it ever came to the test, ho would lay his
life duwn to keeD a shadow from resting
on tne fair held* of Uosc-Mesnil.
A whole year had now elapsed since
Guillot had suiff.d the fragrance of the
flowering shrnhsand blossoming fruit-trees
of Busc-Mesnil. Madeleine's letters had
reached him with pleasing regularity. But
now the intervals between them became
noticeably lengthened and the warmth of
their tone, too, was perceptibly lowered.
Guiilot was distressed, aud it required all of
iSuulang'T's hopefulness to kueu him front
bieakiug down completely.
One in. ruing the bugle-cali and long roll
of the drums aunouneed that the enemy
was about to attack. In deep attenee the
long lines of French troops took up their
position, while frum the. bills of Lan&Soßg
tiie hoarse-toueu trumpets of the Chinese
bellowed forth discordantly, and the pulfs
uf blue smoke ilo.iUd hazily away iv the
clear morning air. Now and then a hotter;
b»-lc';ed forth its shut and shell, and they
went w -hUtiiug over the heads of thu i'ieuch
with weird musical ring.
Suddenly a staff officer reined in bis horse
witun nearins; of Lieutenant Guillot, and
called "ut to the Colonel:
'•A courtier has arrived from Franco, Cid
ontil, and there's B letter fur Lieutenant
Guilot."
"A letter for me.';'" involuntary queried
the young otli'-"r ; " where is itV"
"in 'he minds in" the I Quartermaster," re
plied the officer.
Guiliot caland his eyes to his CokmeTs
fsce. Thai officer read the imploring look
mat lay in ih.-iu.
"Go and getit. Lieutenant," cri'd the Col
ni'i :n a cheery lone of voice, and as Guiilot
hurried away his commander added: " Poor
Ici.ow, if a Chinese oliarpniiooter should
singl'- him nut, he will lit lean have bad the
consolation el having heard from hume be
fore dying."
]■• ulauger had seen his comrade hurry
nnay to tin- rear, at;d immediately guessed
the object of hl< en and. The l'arisi.m
could feel the cold perspiration bending mi
iiU brow v lie waited lor Gußlot to return.
A! tpngUl the yoim<r officer camn in sight
and took ii|> his place with his compauy. A
strane" pitllur hud. overspread liis face.
Boulauzer made haste to accost him.
" Well, well, what news, my boy?"
"Yon mean the letter," answered Guillot
with ■ vacant' st.ire in his eyes; "Oh, I've
iii.t <■ mil it mi. X luive it here. It's not
fri. in Madeleine. 1 uon't know the hand
writing."
BotUaßgei'a heart rose into !iis throat, but
Ue managed to pull himself together.
"Come, come, Aiuiar.d," h» cried out, in
as chicly a tone as possible; "courage,
comrade: Why, it niuy bring you the very
best of news. Oji-n it and read it, for
things are nome to be pretty lively in a half
hour or so."
Guillot drew the letter lorth, and with
trembling Innds broke llm seal. A pitiful
expcmioß of suffering oaiun over his face
an he read the letter. Uis lips moved, but
the storm of battle had already burst upoa
t!ie French lint"*, and no ona l:earu what he
said. IJefore lioulanjpr could g<-t a word
from him the bugles sounded uu advance
and tiie cnnirades were senarHt*>d. As Buu
liintier took up Bis position lie caught one
wore glance of (iiiillot's lace. It htri
changed its expression completely. A de
moniac look was upouit. The lirs fjuivi'rcd
and 'he eyes were fixed ujon tlir tnemy's
advancinn lines. All the world seemed
dead lo the yoiuiK ellicer, and he fiiced th«
furi-us fire of the Celestials as if ii de
pended upon him alone .to stem that wild
on-et.
Then Hie smoke of the French batteries
wlhdi Don opened lire ■wirled u]i between
the two frien'ls and not uutil his Captain
had c i l!e.i out his name did linuhuiger laco
about sinri maiiifrst the old-time ca^e: ueib
to lead his meu iuto tho fray.
Althouch the Celestials w'thstood the
furiuus (iiisliiiight of tne French troops with
admirable steadiness, yet tliey were gradu
ally forced back witnin the lines ol iheir
fortiiic.itious. and it was not until late in
the afternoon that the reserves were or
derca up ami the command given to curry
the fort at the |o>nt of the Imyonet. Here
it was that Buulunger after a h ng seiirch
found his unfurtutiiite friend Guillot
Stretched unnu a bed of straw tenderly
w ate bed over by several of his men. It did
not cull for the trnined eye to see that he
was mortally wounded, but his mind was
perfectly clear and be welcomed his com
r.ide with A smile, savinc, as with a great
eiTort he held out hLs hand to him :
"Ah, Ainlre; I'm glad you have coinp. I
have miti > ■ : h 1 1 1 l; t'i say to you before it's all
over. Tlmse villainous celestihls, they
thought my heart wasn't heavy enough, so
they've laid an ouii'e or so of cold lead very
near it."
Boulanger, who had tlirown himself upon
his knees and ma holding his comrade's
chilly band clasped between both of his,
turned his face away to Hide the tears
which, in spite of his efforts to appear calm,
were tricklinj; down his cheeks.
"Never mind, Andre," whispered Guillut.
"It has happened just as 1 wanted it. It is
my own doings. 1 had nothing to live for."
" What, has Madeleine proved false to
you?" gasped iioulanger, "Oh, the vile
creature!"
" No, no, Andre," replied Guillot; "don't,
oh, don't say that; don't oreathe a word
auain.il Madeleine. I cannot believe that
she was lalse to me. They have deceived
her. Dumontier, Dumontier, has done it all.
Read, read, what they write to me." And
the young officer drew the fatal letter from
his breast and hnnded it to hisrninrnde. For
an instant, as his gaze fell upon the crimson
stains which in one place seemed to have
set a seal of blood at the end of the letter
and in another with merciful intent to have
blotted out the beloved name ol Madeleine
Boulanger could not read a word. His tears
blinded him and his hand trembled us if
smitten with palsy, lint gradually he got the
mastery of his feelings and read the mes
saue from 13osc-Mesnil which had wrought
such dire effect. The letter purported to
come from Maltre Zephyre and contained
these words:
To tlie Lieutenant Armani Galliot— How
snail I express to yon a latber's indignation at
the outrageous farce luto which your miserable
vanity moved you to drag my daughter's name.
To think Ibat so honest a face should ouly be a
mask to bide the nefarious workings of a de
praved beart 1 Your letter to Monsieur Luiineii
tler lias been read to me; wherein you congratu
late yourself upon bavlng proved yourself a
more accomplished deceiver of women than he
and wherein you inlomi him that you have uo
further use for the peasant's daughter. You
thought forsooth that the daughter of a humble
peasant deserved no better usage at your liandt.
Ah, could you but bave witne^cd me keenness
with which she felt my humiliation at thought
of my uanehtei's name bandied fromltpto Hd by
cossips aud scandal-mongers, mentioned only to
be sneered at, I believe that even your cru«!
heart would have been touched. Hut tlie uoble
sou of my devoted Irlend Dumonlier, who never
suspected that your attentions to my dauichier
wdo not pure and honorable, has taken good
care that my daughter's name shall be im
mediately rescued from suspicion. He will make
her his wife next wee!s. As for you, tlr, I re
joice that your parents are uot alive to be wit
nesses of your shainelul conduct. From an In
dignant father, Maitke Zephyrb.
"Oh, that wretch Dumontier," cried Bou
langer, beating his forehead with, his
clenched list, "that iufauious wretch has
done nil this."
"You are right, Andre," said Gulllot,
faintly, "and to think, too, that he should so
soon have forgotten his sacred compact with
me. Ah, why was Iso hasty, Andre? Why
have I thrown my life away like this? Why
did I not bide my time till the end of the
war, mid first slay this miserable wretch,
who has so infamously betrayed me? Oh,
what a madman 1 have been!"
"Listen, my dear Armancl," snid Bou
langer, tenderly, us he encircled the dying
man's neck with his arm and set his lips
close to Guillot's ear: "If you must die,
dear comrade, die in peace. Leave Dtimon
ticr to me. When I get back to lam I'll
take the first train up to I'vetot aud spit
hitn as I would a rat."
"Will you, dear Andre?" exclaimed Guil
lot, as a strange glare began to burn in his
eyes. "Will you slay the wretch?"
"1 swear it," replied Boulanger solemnly
as he raised his right hand over his head
"i>ut remeuibei, Andre," whispered Guil
int, "uot an unking word against Madeleine
.Not nveu a reproachful l"ok at Madeleine "
and the young officer lell back exhausted
his breath coming in quick ana ominous
buffs.
"Hark, Andre," he whispered hoarsely
"dou'tvou hear it I That's the chapel boll
at ISusr-Mesuil. Look, look, there she goes
all in white on the arm of Maitre Zephvre
Isn't she beautilul, Andre? Ah there
comes liumouticr, the wretch— the wretch
Give me uiy sword, Andre; he shall not
have her. I'll kill him. I'll kill him at tho
very chapel-door. Quick, Andre. Help,
help, bef ore it's tuo late! Madoleiue, Mad
eleine, wuit ior me— wait"— and with a
heart-rending sound of life ebbing away in
his throat, the young officer gasped and died.
SCHAPTBB IIL
At the end of one year'g service In the
lonquin War, Andre Uuuiauger, now Cap
tain Boulanger, uoplic.t for and was granted
six months' leave of absence, lie was
rn-hly entitled to it, uot only on acuouut of
the splendid recuid which lie had uiaae for
liini^eif, b;it for the reason that the sevprity
"f the climate had begun to tell upon him
anil the Colonel of his regiment recognized
the fact that the country could ill afford to
lose such a brave and capable officer. With
out doubt, Guillol's death l:ad produce-1 a
deep Impression ui>on Boulanger. This
was niore apparent at the mess table than it
«as in the field, lie fought as well hs ever,
but his flippancy and gayety had manifestly
suffered diuiiuutioii, and, abuve all, his
opinions of aud conduct toward women had
undergone revision aud suppression.
Urielly stated, he w«3 uot the same man,
and it was darkly hinted at among his
brother officers that Guillut, in tiie hour of
death, had unloaded some terrible grief
upon Boalanger^-a grief so intense and ab
>orbiiig that to it, lad uot to tlis effects of
the climate, was to be attributed the break
ing down of his health.
Captain Bu langer himself quietly but
firmly repelled all attempts of his Intimates
:u gat at liie true inwaidne-s of the matter.
** I^t'ave thut melancholy in i'aris!"
'" Ciiine back tn us with n new liver and a
new spleen, too!"
" Remeaibef that like cures like in love!"
Such were some of the good-humored bils
of advi'-c volunteered by liis brother officers
when Boolangei parted with them,
Once out of t!ie warm, moist atmosphere
of the East, Captain Boiil.mger's health
mended rapidly, aud by tlie time he found
Inn. sell once iihth in the whirl of Parisian
life iiKst of the o'.d-tiaie dash of manner aud
vigor of action had returned to him.
lie made but a short stay at the capital,
however, for he long: d to' be where his
thoughts were, and «it,:iiu a Week alter his
return to France set out for the old cily of
Vvetut. It wns the b.os-om time of jear
when Captaiu Boulanger reached his fiiend's
birtb-piace, and it seemed to him that he
liau never seen a more beautilul country
Hiaii tliat which lay around about the
lainous old Norman town. As the train ap
proached the city his g»z« suddenly fell
upon a group of spiv.it us and well-kept
[arm buildings. In an iu-taut he recog
nized it as Boss-ltanil, aud, as the fra
grance df the blossoming fruit-trees eutered
the car-window and the twittering of the
nesting birds reached his ear, the Parisian
found it very difficult to stem the rising tide
of Rrief.
"What a strange thing is fate?" he mur
mured to himself. "Why was it that poor
Armand could not have returned hither iu
-tead nf me?"
OuiUiu Bonlanger's first step was to
seek "lit Guillot's cousin, n well-known
Uiauiifuctuier at Yvetnt ai:d deliver to him
certain messages and keepsakes in Record
inioe with tiie dead (dicer's request, and
also to ciiinmunicate to tliis relative the full
particulars nf Guillnt's Ueath.
While scuipulmisly careful not to give
Guilloi's cousin th>- faintisi. intimation of
!»' awful nature of his errnnd to Yvetot
Boulnnger could with dHtenlly restrain his
••■■iZ' mess to get Rt the heart ol tiie mystery
winch ■■mvrnpped the betrayal of his un
fortunate friend and the mirriace of Made
leine to the notary's son.
"Although gieat effort has b<>en made,"
began the cousin, "tn lead us to bi-iieve that
Arwand never really loved Madeleine, but
tl.roujji motives of vanity mrrely wished to
show Hie good people of our city bow easily
ha could bear the farmer's daughter tri
umphantly away from all wcoers if he 80
desired, yet to uiy mind wns this only a part
of a wicked scheme of daeeptton, «hicn,
shoitly after Armand's departure, was en
leivd upon with a view to break off the en
g igetneat and secure Madeleine for youn*
Oum.iiitier."
"And now that MaitreZepl.yre has died "
continued Guillot's cousin, "1 greatly fear
me this mystery will never be cleared up,
for naturally the Dmnontiers, father and
son, tlie chief coiispiialors- in this wicked
business, will never sp^ak to confound them
selves. Their lips are sealed forever!"
At the mention of Guillot's perfidious
friend, Kculanger felt his hot blood beating
on tlie walls of his brow, but he curbed Ins
inclmativii to cry ont in fury r.t the infamy
nf ilns sworn frimd of Armand's and merely
said iiH|tiiringly :
"Hut Madeleine?"
"I'dor chi id," murmured Armand's cousin,
the world witn all its bright promise oi"
blissful existence has slipi ed away from her
completely, i irst made to believe that her
lover has proved recreant to his vows then
forced into a marriage with a man for wfiom
sliehasno affection, fate would have beeu
bitter enough If it had stopped there. Hut
uien came the news of the death of Annaml,
the hern of the battle of Lanu-Soug, when
there was every reason to suppose that lie
threw his life away, and last ol all her
father's death."
"Terrible, terriblel" whispered Bou-
lancer, and then after a moment'! s Hence
ha Inquired:
". 1) »r. s slie make her llome at Dumon
" Oil, no," was the answer, "she Is too
deeply nttached to the old farm at Bosc-
Slesinl to consent to leave it. Here she has
shut herself up Irom the world and persist
ently refuses all advances of friends and ac
quaintances. She is said to be almost an
object of worsliip to tier ovnrsoers and
farm-hands. In fact I'm told she lsoks
niore like a ministering angel in her mourn
ing robes than she does like an inhabitant
of tins cold and selfish world."
"And Dumontier?" almost gasped Bou
" lie comes and goes between Bnsc-Mes
nil and bis father's home," was the reulv.
ostensibly they are man and wife, but In
reality liny are apart, I fear, forever."
Captain Boulauger had disniMsnd his cub.
lor he had resolved to return to the hotel on
loot. He now found himself somewhat out
side the city limits iind it suddenly occurred
to h in that it would be much more pleasant
to dino at the old inn which Armand had so
often described to him. The highway
seemed wonderfully familiar to him and he
unconsciously strolled along, pausing now
and then to enjoy the sad satisfaction of
looking across the fields and meadows with
Armand's eyes, as it were.
The table was set in the garden of the o'd
inn, and Boulnnger lingered so long nfter
his dinner that the sun was well down in the
west and the hum of the bees had almost
ceased when he rose to continue his walk in
the direction of Bose-Mcsnil.
The evening promised to be one of un
usual beauty aud serenity and the whim
came to him that he would like to sen the
farm building of Bosc-Mesnil at the twilight
hour, when the sheep were folded, the oxen
resting from the labors of the day and the
cows were tinkling their bells over their
feed-troughs. This had been poor Ar
mand's favorite honr to walk forth with
Madeleine. Boulanger stood for a long
while cazing upon this calm and peaceful
scene and then turning aside from the high
way he followed a path along a flowering
helge. At once it began to take on a fa
miliar look and he saw that he was on hi"
way to the pond bordered with flowers, a
strange joy took possession of his heart and
some mysterious psychic force merged his
identity iuto that of his dead friend.
"Oh, Armand, : Armaud," half sobbed a
woman's voice.
"Who calls me?" he cried cut, yielding to
the fascination of the spell which was upon
him, and speaking so like Armand that the
sameness of the voice startled him.
With a smothered outburst, half fear, half
amazement, a slender figure, clad iv deep
mourning, confronted him,
"Andre Boulanger!" came with ill-feigned
wonder from Msdelene. for she it was.
"The same, madam," replied the Captain,
taking Madeline's outstretched hand ami
pressing it respectfull to his lips.
"Armand's description of you," contin
ued Madeleine, in a voice of indescrioable
pathos, "were so indelibly impressed upon
my memory that your face and figure seemed
to me like those of an old friend. You will
pardon my outcry, but, to be frank with
you, you broke iv upon my reverie rather
abruptly."
liinilaneer was delighted with Made
leiue's delicious repose aud certainty of
AMI iHl>
mai.uer. Offering her his arm, he led her
to a rustic scat near the edge of tlie pond.
•'I trust, madam," said lie, "that you will
be convinced that I come to you in some
thing more than the mere cuise of frieud
siiip."
Madeleine fixed her eyes searching]? np
in Ballanger's fuce. She was amazed to
find that there was no trace of repruadi or
condemnation there.
"Then yi) v —then he— Armand," she
wills ered breathlessly, turning her pale
f sec full upon Bimlnnger; "forgive me. lie
did nut upl>raid me? Oh, I whs so weak —
so weak, but I would have stood firm had
not that terrible letter—"
" That letter, madam," broke in Captain
Boutangei almost violently, "was an in
fainous forgery 1 Armand could no more
have penueiJ it than Lucifer have written
tha beatitudes! His last breath was a beuu
dietlon ujiou your head!"
"A forgery?" cried Madeleine hcw!l
dered. " Oh, sir, spare me, dou't make my
crime blacker than it is. I saw the letter
from Tonquin nditressed to Mnnsieni l)u
--montitT. It was Anuand's hami-wriUug—
there could be no mistaking it."
'" Never, uiadiiiu!" exclaimed Boulsiitrer
in a tun." thttt sounded slraugely solemn to
Madeleine's ears.
At this iiinuieut Boulangpr saw a wild and
distracted look burning i" Madeleine's eyes.
\V itli n shriek she dashed away toward tlie
water, but a strong arm rastraiaad her ere
she had reached it. Boulunger led tlie
wretched woman buck to the pUltVftf,
where they were juined by one at Mine.
Dumuntier's maids, who with tlie Captain*
aid conducted her mistress to the house.
If Armand's friend bad nee-led anything
to wliet the dice of his purpose to punish
the treacherous Doinontlet, it was furnished
him by Madeleine upon his next interview
with her, wlien he learned that in order to
more the farmer's daughter to abandon
(juillot, the old notary had had recourse to
Mm vila subterfuge of deceiving the simple
minded Maitre Zephyre by aunoum ing
that certain of the latter's Una
speculations had turned out disastrously,
and that Him and steady ruin na staring
tlin fanner In the fuce. The bestowal of
Madeleine's hand upon his son Mine was
the soic condition upon which the old do
tnrv stood ready t« go to ilaitre Zeptayte'a
assistance. The sol' mn assurance from
Captain Boulan^pr — which Madeleine could
COt hear too often — that Anuaud was per
fectly convinced that her lovo had been
turned from him by gene iufamous trick or
device, and that he uobly and geuerousiv
spoke of her as free from all complicity,
carried much-needed balm to that peox
wonntied heart.
Now that t'antain Boulan.er had accom
plished tnishalf ofihis mission his thoughts
turned with redoubled activity to what re
mained to l>e done He had already met
M. l>iimonlier several times at the cl'.il>. »t
which he had been Introduced by Guiilot's
cou-in, and he was not a little plewed to
discover that this gentleman was prone to
talco more wine tlian was good for him. a
habit which often led to his being boister
ous and iil-uiannored at the card table and
even unscrupulous in his play. Hence it
was not at all to be wondered at thnt tfle
hot-lilooded l'arisiiin should have on such
an occasion hurled his cards into Duiuun
ticr's faco and applied tlie harsh epithets of
Bat and cheat to him.
It was still enrlv in the evening. Sud
denly it occurred to Captain Bonlanger that
ne had promised to pay i visit at Bosc
llesnil. 15y good fortune vis horse h:id not
been sent back to the stable, and leaping
into the saddle Uonlanger turned tho ani
mal's head toward Che farm boustt, It
might be his lust -visit. It might be the last
look that ho would have in this world if that
sweet palo face with its wonurously tender
and soulful eyes. Dumontier had tho repu
tation of being an excellant swordsman and
Captain liouliinger, strange to Buy, did not
feel that steadiness of nervn which he fain
would have desired »o have, nnd for which
he was so justly famous.
Madeleine met him at the door with a
smile which in no wise bettered matters.
Tlie Captain had never y-t flinched before a
woman's eyes, but he could not withstand
the mysterious fasciunlti n which looked out
at him from Hie windows of this woman's
soul. He quailed before it and turned away
but he could not escape that swoetly melan
choly voice. It followed him; it thrilled
him ;it moved him Hue some faint melody
he«rd by a drowning man ; it promised help
and yet it seemed as if he would rattier
listen and die than have it come too close to
him.
"Why, Captain Boulanirer," murmured
Madeleine; "how preoccupied you are; how
unlike yourself. Has Ruuht happened? If
yon have any troubles will you not let me
sympathize with you?"
The Captain blurted out some flimsy ex
cuse for his aliscnt-inindediH'ss, but It only
served to increase Madeleine's disquiet.
He w»s conscious that he was constrained
In hi? manner, even culd and distant, and
quite unlike himself.
Suddenly, Madeleine sank upon the sofa,
and coveting her face with her hands begun
to weep.
Boulnnger had never presumed to call her
by her first name, but she seemed so utterly
desolate l!iat he softened, aud in a sympa
thetic tone of voioe siid:
"Come, dear Madeleine, come, you must
strive to part with this sorrow. Don't you
hear me, Madeleine — "
With a quick movement Madeleine looked
up and riveted her gaze with a strange in
tensity upon Boulanser's face.
A blind man could have read the thanks
in those tear-moistened eyes.
"Ah, my friend," she murmured, "this
world Is firmly resolved that I shall get no
happiness out of it. I reel it. I know it."
Suddenly it occurred to Captain Boulanger
again that possibly this was the last time he
should meet Madeleine, and he made an
effort to free himself from the mysterious
feeling of adoration which she inspired in
bim.
Madeleine saw this nnd thanked him with
one of her smiles of almnm celestial sweet
ness. Again and again he called her Made
leine, and every time he spoke that name it
grew swertur nnd sweeter to them both.
But suddenly a sort of panicky fear came
upon him. Übs friend's bleediog form rose
before him. He coultl hear Arniand's
piteous cry:
" Madeleine, Madeleine, wait for me "
and he felt like a thief in the holiest of
plnees reaching out for monstrance or
chalice.
He rose to escape from Madeleine's pres
ence, but her hand was laid upon Ills.
"Oh. Andrei Oh. my friend!" sbe
£ leaded, " wait, wait; I have much to say.
Mrt leave me nlnne lv this great, cold
world. Uon'l let me sink into the very gulf
of despair. Reach out yonr baud. I'm
Ipst if you withdraw your gaze from me; it I
cense to hear your voice. Oh. Andre,
Andre, can you not understand me?"
"Too well, too well, Madeleine," whi »■
percd Captain JJoulanjter, "and therefore I
must not tarry. You must not constrain
me. I must not vex Armand's soul."
"Fear naught, Andre," entreated Made
leine. "I will give our beloved sleep I Look
at me, let me but feel thnt I may speak.
Oh, I implore you, Andre, let me tell you
how I — "
"Stop, Madeleine!" cried Boulanger, turn
ing almost fiercely upon her. "Don't bring
that word across your beautiful lips. I
must not hear it. I dare not listen to you.
If you wouid not make me execrate my
self, dismiss me in silence. Oh, Madeleine,
saro me, save me from myself," and as
Madeleine hid her face upon his breast and
he felt her form rocked by this storm of
jfrief, he took her head gently between bis
hands and raising it slowly bent It back until
the soft light of the candalabra fell full upon it.
For a momsnt he stood there in silence,
with his gaze chained to that divinely fair
countenance. Never had he seen such a
face, nor had he felt himself so deeply moved
since his boyhood days, wlisn in "the dim
light of some cathedral he watched some
angelic countenance of the heavenly choir
pictured on the windows.
Madeleine's heart stopped its beating.
She hung upon Andre's lips like a criminal
upon his judge's. He utierea no word, but
bending forward pressed a kiss upon her
forehead.
"It cannot be, Madeleine." he murmured
slowly, '• I have not told you all "
Alarmed by these words, and fearing lest
he might escape her, Madeleine locked her
arms about his neck.
'"Not yet, not yet, Andre," she gasped
convulsively, as if about h) sink forever.
"I know what you meun, but, oh, in heav
en's name tell me, Andre, why must I be
punished for sins I have uot committed?
1 was tricked into this marriage. 1 loathe
Uumontier; the law will set me free. I
way tie yonrs, Andre. Oh, I may bn yours."
"Not that, Madeleine; not that," whisp
ered Boulanger.
"What then?" speak, Andre!" Bhe ex
claimed breathlessly, "what else may keep
us apart?"
"My vow, Madeleine; my sacrnd vow!"
"Your vow, Andre; your sacred vow!"
she repeated with a bewildered look.
"Ay, madam," cried Boulanger; "for you
must know that I pledged my sacred word
to Armand that I'd kill Duiiioriier for his
infamous treachery, and by the eternal pow
ers of heaven, I'll do so to-morrow morning
as soon as there's light enough for me to see
the place where his base heart lius."
With those words Boulanser tore himself
out of Madeleine's arms aud sprang toward
the door.
"Andre, Andre," shrieked Madeleine, as
she sprang forward; "no, no! Spare him,
Andre, if you love me, don't tnko his lite!"
But Boulanger was gnue, aud in a mo
ment Madeleine heard the rattling of his
horse's hoofs on the highway grower fainter
and fainter in the distance and then ce.tse
altogether.
Scarcely had the duelists crossed swords
when lioulanger fell upon his opjt'nent with
a rage that defeated the very end he uad
in view. IHimontier was no meau swords
man and was defending himself admirably
when Bctilaneer succeeded in piercing
his arm. Tim surgeon at once declared
thnt the fighting could proceed no further.
The brachial artery had been puncturpd.
It was the work of a lew moments to tie
the artery, however, and the dueling party
made its way back to Yvetot.
In a few hours word reached Captain
Boulanger that his opi onent was dying, and
that his presence whs needed immediately.
Madelaim; was alre :dy nt her husband's bod
side. Left alone after reaching home, the
wounded man had violently undone the
surgeon's work, nnd when discovered by
tne sei vants was rapidly nearing death from
lo.s-s of blood.
As Boulangfir entered the room Hip dying
man held out his hand and smiled faintly.
'"It's better thus," he whispered} "it's my
own work, Capiaiu ; but oh, that Armand
could know that I was true to my compact
with him," gasped the notary's son, and
then tiie end caino quickly and silently, more
like a drop, ing off to .sleep than augtit el-e.
Andre Boulonger tried tojspeak, but the
sound died away In bis throat.
"My boy lias died as he lived," spoke the
aged notaiy solemnly, "with the truth upon
his lips. 1 was 1 who forged the letters. It
was I who wasted Maine Zephyre's mouey
in mad Speculation, and it was 1 who per
suaded the old farmer that only upon condi
tion of tliis marriage would 1 s:ive hint
licjni impending niiii. My crimes are great,
too great tor human foryivenets. 1 must
look to heaven for mercy."
A liiud was laid gently upon Andre's
shoulder. It was Madeleine.
"Fart well, Andre!" she murmured.
" Madeleine," cried Boulaugi-r, turning
pale and instinctively reaching out to hold
last to her, "Where are you going?"
" into God's house, uiy friend," she re
plied. Man's hand is against me. Mayhap
heaven will give what the world has so
cruelly denied me!"
Nearly a year has gone by. Andre Bou
langer has made repeated pilgrimages to the
boty place where Madeleine seems to have
found ivst at last, and ho is becoming more
und more convinced that the fair penitent
will ore long make up her mind to the fact
thnt she baa taken fate too seriously.
Cr,,, V riphl, MHO. fy lhe Author* Alliance; all right*
in Ihij AZHylish version rrs'rvfl.
Kb* ni-xt Novelette will bo " His Oldest
Filendl," by Hiu M. K. Brartdon.
TINY TWISS.
Three MonlliN O;d ..ml Welching Only
TwcDty-fdiir (liimy..
About three months ago twins were born
at the Betreat for t!ie Sick iv this city. The
binh of th? Lilliputians was k^pt a great se
cret until a f«w days ago, when their exist
ence leaked out, and now it is much talked
of. It seems the mother deserted the little
creatures tnree weeks after they were born,
aud up to this time, nothing has been heard
from her. The. matron of the lU'trrat far
the .Sick. Mr 3. Morns, a liultiiunre lady, has
adopted them. She has named them Maud
-nil Mabel. T:;e»e children weighed «t the
lime if bnta one and oue aud a half pounds
respectively.
They were kept nlive for wi-pfcs by the
application of bottles of hot water placed
under cot; on batting. The r-trangest part of
this story is that Mabel lias only grown halt
a pound in two mouths, and at this time
only weighs one pound ana a half, tjlie is
unquestionably the smallest three-months
ohl child iv the world. Maud is stronger
than her sister, and has from the tinie of
birth been healthier. She weighs two
pounds. It has of w.irse required the most
skillful treatment to keep life in these little
ones, und Mrs. Morns lias become thoroughly
attached to them. She believes they will
live.— Norfolk (Va.) Special to the Cincin
uatl tuquirer.
< urn* Back for X.-v. nr-c.
One day while proceeding up n canyon in
the Raton Mountains a Urne silver-tip bear
ai.d hereub leaped cut and made a rush up
the slopiugslile of tlie valley. There wire
three in our party, and every Winchester
brjiau to talk very earnestly and excitedly.
I'lih cub tumbled dead Ihe nr=t tire. I call
him a cuo, but the truth id lie was more
than half as large as his mother, ami
weighed an jionnds. The old lady did not
show any iiijuiy, j:nd the moment the young
one tiuubled she turned and came back
square in the teeth oi the rille.-, and, seizin;!
b«r dead rub in her teetli aa a i-at does a
kitten, raise.! it fairly clear of the ground
and cantered up the hill— no easy uii.Uer, as
a.Mde from the 240 pounds of limp and drag
ging weight, she lind uj force her unions,
lovinii way thiongh oak l>rn<-n, which, in
many instances, might have detained 11
steer. She got fairly away, albeit we fireU
sernral shots after the cub fell.
We had just reloaded the magazines of
our Winchesters, and we ro communing as to
taking the trail of the old lienr, which
showed wide and • lear in broken bushes
and disturbed oak leaves ami i>iue needles,
when looking itv> we beheld our Rsme com
ing back straight for us. She meant busi
ness, too. Her red »ud streaming tongue
lolled out of her half-open mouth, and iier
eyes partly closed in race, would hay«
seemed guizzieal In ex]>rcf^ion were it not
for the ferocity which leaped and flashed
in their depths like sheet liuhtniug behind
some cloud screen. She came straight to
us, and we settled her troubles at the first
fire. We found the cub up on the divide.
She h*d carried it »t hut sixty rods, with
two bullet holes in her shaggy hide, as we
found wiieu we skinned her.— Kansas City
SlHr.
In a St. Louis police court the other day n
blind mnii reecguizwl a thief who had robbed
him by his voice. He picked him out from a
number of persons who were brought in aod
who said "'Good morning" to him. The
prisoner confessed.
The Noble Ship.
Staunch of timber, true of lielin,
Strong aud graud aud stately,
luio harbor snlla lue ship.
Bravely aud sedately.
Siorms bave beat and foes assailed,
But use rose above iliem—
Noble ships that sail our sea*!
Who can help but love them?
Thus through siorms snd thus tbroogb toes
SOZOUONI has ridden,
Aud to share tier benedts
All the world Is blddeu.
The Sea of Oblivion
Would long since bave swallowed np SOZO
DONT in common with bo Diuny forgotteu tootn
piiMes nnd deulltncet, did mil the expeileuee ot
a whole nation prove that It possesses aignal ad
vantages. It thoroughly cleans the teeth, dis
solving and removing tlieir Impurities; It re
vives their lading whiteness and suengthouj
their relaxing hold Upon their sockets; it renders
colorless, ulcerated gums hard and healthy, and
besides ueutrnlizlng an unsavory breatb Invests
It wltb Us owu fragrance.
ARTIFICIAL GEMS
IN PARIS.
Emile Zola Tells of an Aged Sci
entist Who Has Made Them.
A Hovel Filled With Million! of Sparkling
Gems— Unable 10 Produce White Dia
monds — Fearing Death.
Written for The Sunday Caii.
JT\fj YOUNG student of chemistry, one
?i*\:{ of my friends, said to me a few
J|X]L* mornings ago:
"1 know an old scientist who has with
drawn to a small house on the Boulevard
d'Enfer that ho may study there without in
terruption the crystallization of diamonds.
Already he has obtained dazzling results.
Would you like me to take you to Fee him ?"
I replied affirmatively, though not with
out a secret terror. I should have been
friebtened less by a magician, and I only
slightly dread the evil one, hut I fear
wealth, »ud I am free to say that the man
who shall some line day discover the phil
osopher's stouo will inspire me with a re
spectful dread.
Ou the way my friend gave me some in
formation concerning the manufacture c^f
artificial precious stones. For a long white
our chemist* had been giving it their atten
tion, but the crystals funned were so
diminutive, while the cost of producing
them was so great, that the experiments
were regarded simply as revelations of the
curiosities of science. But it was merely a
question of fiuding more powerful agents
and more economical methods in order to
produce the gems at a .smaller cost.
When we had arrived at the house, my
friend, before ringing the bell, warned me
that the veteran scientist, who did not like
curious intruders, would, without doubt,
receive me most ungraciously. I was the
flr>t outsider who had endeavored to pene
trate into his sanctum sanctorum.
The scientist himself auswered the bell
and opened the door. I must confess that
at the iiist glance I thought him stupid,
with the air of a pule emaciated shoemaker,
lie greeted my friend politely, ut'.ering a
low growl when I was presented, as if I
hud been a dog belonging to his youthful
disciple. Wo walked across a neglected
garden, at ihe back of which was the house,
a tumble-down hovel. The scientist luid
removed nil the partitions that he might
liaveone vast and iufty apartment in which
he had established a complete laboratory,
full of extraordinary apparatus, tlio use of
which 1 did not even strive to comprehend.
The sole articles of luxury, the only pieces
of furniture, were a blackwood bouch and
table.
A MOST DAZZLING SIGHT.
In this hovel the most dazzling the most
blinking sight I had ever seen in my entire
life burst upon me. Numbers of dilapi
dated baskets were ranged along the walls
upon the floor, their willow twigs ready to
burst from overflowing loads of precious
stones. But one species of gem was in each
basket; rubies, amethysts, emeralds, sap
phires, opals nnd turquoises, thrown into
corners like stone heaps along a highway,
glittering with living light, illuminating the
den with the sparkle of their tlarues. They
were furnaces, glowing coals, red, violet,
green, blu« and pink. They looked like
millions of eltin eyes laughing on the floor
nmiil the gloom. No tale in the "Arabian
Nights" had ever revealed such treasures,
no woman had ever dreamed of such a para
dise.
1 involuntarily uttered a cry of admira
tion.
"Why this is the wealth of the Indies"' 1
exclaimed. " These gems have au iucalul
able value."
shrugging his shoulders, the aged scien
tist cozed at me with profound P il V.
'• The heaps are worth but a few francs
each," said he in a hollow voice, drawling
out his words. "They bore me and to-mor
row I will u^e them for gravel in my garden
paths."
Gathering up handfuls of t'io gems, he
continued, turning toward my friend:
"Glance at these rubies. I have ns yet
obtained none more beautiful. These emer
alds don't sati->fv me — they are too pure.
Nature's emeralds always have some Haw
aid 1 don't want tn sir pass nature. The
white diamond is still beyond me; 1 nm un
able to produce it, and that's what discour
ages me. To-morrow, however, I shall re
sumo my experiments. When I have suc
ceeded ntv life's crowning work will have
been attained, and 1 shall die happy."
Thf scientist drew himself up to his full
height; the air of stupidity had vanished
from him. 1 trembled in the presence of
that wan old man who could shower down
on Paris such a miraculous rain.
THE SCIENTIST'S TERRORS.
"Don't you fear robbers?" I asked. "I
see you have put solid iron bars across your
doors and windows, buch precautions aro
ailvisubl-."
" Yes. I am sometimes afraid," he mut
tered, "afraid lest idiots may assassinate
me before I have succeeded in produc
ing the white diamond. These stones,
though they have comparatively little
vaiue. might tempt my heirs; my heirs
friguten me; they are well aware that by
causing my disappearance they would bury
v^tii rue the secrets of my discoveries, anil
thus give these artificial gems you see about
you the full vaiue the world puts ou genu
ine precious stunes."
He grew thoughtful and sad. We were
sitting or, piles of diamonds an<i I was star
ing at him, my left h;tnd iilunged into a
basket of roHes, my right hand mechani
cally sifting emeralds like saud through uiy
Queers,
At length 1 broke the silence, exclaimins:
" You must lead a wretched life, despising
men i * you do! Are you totally without
pleasuii'?"
He looked at me in amazement.
"Iworkj" he answered, "and am never
weary. When I feel unusually gay I rut
some of these stone* in my pocket and stand
at the further end of my garden, behind a
loophole which opens upon the boulevard.
Then from tiuin to time 1 hurl a diamond
into the middle of tiie street."
He laughed as he recalled this masterly
practical joke.
THK PEOPLE WHO FIND THE STONKS.
"You cannot imagine the behavior 6f the
people, who fiud tne stones. They tremble
aud glauce behind them; then they hasten
away, as pale as death. How much aniuse
mnnt the poor fools have afforded me!
What delightful hours I have spent at that
loophole!"
His peculiar tone tilled me with unutter
able imeasiuess. Was the aged philosopher
quietly waking gatmi of me?
" Your.c man," resume! he. in a dry
voice," "I could set all the women in tUe
world crazy with what 1 have in tliis deu,
but lam mi old devil and hide the gems
from thorn. Had 1 been in the lea>t ambi
tious, 1 could have been a king, somewhere
long ngo. Bah! I wouldn't hurt a fly. I
am kinu-heaiied, and that's why I let men
live!"
His manner of speaking made me suspect
hU sanity.
Bewildering thoughts coursed through my
brain, i>ea!ine in my ear; ail the bells of
in idness. The eltin eyes of the multitudes
of glowing gems stared at me with their
penetrating glances, red, violet, green, blue
and pink. I iia l eliccd my hands without
noticing it. I held rubies in my left and
emeralds in my right I felt ao almost ir
resistible desire to slip them into my pock
eta. But 1 dropped the accursed stories and
quitted the ageu scientist's hovel, seeming to
hear the gallop of gendarmes all the way
home. kmjle zola.
THE NAVA-SUPAIS.
A Remarkable Indian Tribe Liv
ing in Supai Canyon, N. Mcx.
Ben Wittick, a well-known photographer
of Albuquerque, X. Mex., 1r.13 been visiting
friends in Minneapolis, and to hiui the Jour
nal is indebted for a most interesting and
accurate account of the Nava-Supais of the
Supai Canyon. Some time ago, says the
Minneapolis Journal, he went to New Mex
ico, settling iv Albuquerque, being a man
of adventurous turn of mind, he took a trip
up the canyon and located the tribe in the
narrow, vaHey-like inclosure between the
mighty wulls of the Supai Canyon. Supai is
a name which Mr. Wattick gave the cmyon
himself after having made a trip to the re
gion.
On reaching the canyon he found the In
diaus in the midst of a inarvclotisly fertile
valley, diminutive as it is, where all sorts of
grains and fruits grow in rank profusion,
where there are splendid climatic mtluences
nearly the twelve-month through, and where
all that tends to build up physical powers is
at band, lie made investigation.*, too, into
their lancumie, their rites aDd crrenioniea,
their legends, uml into all the. phase* of
their preseut ami past hi-tory possible, and
he is ivutinucd in the belief that they are in
no way allied to the Aztecs. Ho nays, co
the contrary, that as tar as can be ascer
tained they are allied to tint Wulltip&i.
The tribe is a most singular one. Their
valley home has on either side great ledges
of rocks running ui> in benches thousands
of fuet. In the valley are groves of eottou
wood tree*, and a luxuriant vegetation U
se^n on nil sides. There are about 245 or iao
in the tribe ol tlia Sup.iis. They liveal>, v
lutely aione. They do not intermarry with
other tribes, neither do they mix with the
scattering white people of the regions round
about vVhen they are in need ol forage or
food outside of that which they can gel in
tneir own rich valley, they sally ont, make
their trades or purchases, and return home.
They are monogamists, every man having
one wife and no more. They do not live i:7
a communal form, cither, but preserve the
family in its integrity. The men are a little
above the average height, they are strong
and active, and they are noted fur their
skill in climbing Die muutitxins and in b:in,-
ing down the game they need.
They are very shy aud suspicions of In
dians frcin other tribes, and it. is only by the
most careful and adroit means that a white
man c:in approach ilkmu and gain any in
formation as to their life. The. women are
smaller in stature, very fond ol adornnieni,
and given to fantastic decorations of their
faces. The Supai Indians appear to be far
above niany oilier tribes In morals. Tlu>y
look with scorn upon any one who a~k< theiii
questions as to their marriage relation*,
h"lding that this is no one's bnsinesi but
their imn, and the fact that th.s uouimu of
the tribe who noes wrong is subjected to
the most pronoumed nffltnnr. and generally
is put out of the way, is pretty g.od proof
that they are posai-Sied ol a sort of itilirpli .
heroic virtue.
Mr. Wittick found eleven of the men
totally blind. Hn believes this to be due to
the splitting of the arrows when the bow-,
were strptclwd too taut. Some of the women
who would be seen sitting barefooted in
front of their thatehed-rooi hi'U-.es haw the
most peculiar big toes that ever were seen
on a human being. The toes were not s
very large, but they were of abnormal width
Ht ttie ends. In some cases the bis log s
would be an inch and a half broad at the
end. and very llat and thin. When Mr.
Wittkk and his party entered the oanynn
they found the Supai very geutie and hospit
able in their aboriginal way, but very leti
cent at tne sum ■ time.
Proceeding down the canyon through the
fertile valley, alone which was a Cruder
stream of never -failing water, the i urvst
and sweetest in tlie land, they reached a
magnificent waterfall, where the silver
stream plunges over a preciuicn 257 feet in
height and fulling in a stream uf the rarest
beauty d.>wu to the pool below. Cottmi
wood trees were felled, lashed together,
and a ladder made In sections, the whole
seventy-six feet long, and down this the ex
plorers climbed in their exit from the home
ot these strangely interesting semi-savage
f' Ik. The beautiful stream has been lined
by the Indiana in irrigating tliose portions
of the valley that were sterile, anil it ai>
peara that for centuries they have known of
this method of siding nature.
FORWARD THE
LIGHT BRIGADE.
The Survivors of Ihe Famous
Charge Have a Benefit.
London, >'ov. I.— England lias not the
pension list >ou have. The "pension list"
of her ttritannic Majesty is not, for the
most part, adorued with the names of old
soldiers or men who have done yeomen's
service for the State in times of dire -fitmi-,
but with the mines of court favorites or the
descendants of men aud women who hare
bepu placed there for " services rendered."
taid scrvii-o being generally connected with
our old friend Cupid. Tha pensions
conferred upon soldiers of the British
army, whether for wounds received in action
or lor length of service, are of the must mea
ger and paltry description, and unless a man
has served the best uurt of his life the pension
he 15 entitled to is barely sufficient to keep
body and soul together. Many there are
who have served but who have no pension,
or so small a one that it can scarcely be dig
nified by that name, and men who served in
thn great fights of the Crimea and 1 1 s <- Indian
mutiny are among tlioso who are specially
badly off.
It will scarcely be believed, but it is
nevertheless a fact, that until comparatively
lat.-ry nothing was ever attempted to be
done for the survivors of what was probably
the greatest cavalry charge in history. No
cavalry light had ever benn so celebrated in
song and story as that of the famous Li^lit
Brigade, who rode to their death on that
misty October morning thirty-six years ago.
Poetl have sunn about it and ehiMrec,
wherever th« English language is spoken,
have listened with hated breat.'i sis tieir
elders told tlieui of that deed of heroi-m.
What matter if tlm whole affair were a
terrible mistake, and the lives of brave
men were uselessly thrown aw.iy? It
was not their f;mlt, "tlieirs not to ask I
the reason why," and yet the survivors
of that gallant bund have many (if them t>een
left to rot and end Uieir last days in the.
workhouse. Last year some one called at
tention tn tin; fact that many of the survivors
of tie Light brigade were in great poverty
and for very shame something ought to Lie
donp. In America Congress would have
been your plethoric Treasury, but tlio
English Government is by no means "pater
nal" when it comes to voting money, asd
if anything were to be done to relieve the
declining years of that small band of heroes
it would have to be done by private enter
prise. The result of the appeal was not a
magnificent one, but enough money has
been collected to keep the wolf from the
door.
The culminating point was reached last
Monday afternoon, when a matinee wis
given for the benefit of the survivors at the
Empire Theater. The Empire is the houm
of the ballet iv London, aud perhaps the
finest theater of its kind in the world. It is
the headquarters of the upperteiidom ol
masherdmu, ini'l in the lounge ol the Em
pire after v t.'clo k ai night you will >, l m
belter dressed men and better looking
wuinen than can be seen anywhere else that
I know of. It was literally packed from
floor to ceiling, notwithstanding the fact
that the price of every seat whs doubled. I
uuderstaml tliut over $Z*KO was taken at the
doors. All London whs thert\ and they Imd
an array of talent that would be hard to
beat. Florence St. John, whom you know
well: Edward Terr}', whom you dji't
know, bt:t wliom you ought to know, as Bfl
is fur aud away the best comedian in
London, and can give pounds and a beating
to Fred Leslie any day ; K. J. Lonueu,
whom you know but don't like, but wlio
19 s great fiivorite here, and "Cnirgwin,''
the "White-Eyed Kurtir," in lny hum hi"
opinion the best negro delin-ator on the
stage. Tlien they had the ballet of "Ceole."
a regular "poem in ballet'," with CarsMU.
the ever popular on both sides of the At
lantic, looking very haudsome as th
"Hajah," and all the rest of them. Last,
but not by any means least, there was a
scene that no one who ever saw it is likely
to forget. The curtain rose on a specially
pointed scene ropwaauttng ihe hVM r>f
Balaklava the day alter the battle, with the
"ValWy of Dratli" as a background. Groups
of "supers" iv the uniform of the Light
Brigade were stiinding or seated round the
camp fires. Then Mr. Lanstried, who »a.s
ono of the UugleTs who sounded tue rharg i
on the eventful day. cam* on the stase an l
sounded th« "asseuibiy," and from the wm^s
came trooping the remnants of tlie 'noUUi
six hundroi."
All h.oked weaiy and worn, with their
breasts covered with war med.ils; but they
straightened themselves upend saluted th«
audieu.i-. Once more Uieir old Inkier
srep-.i-ii to the front and the notes of the
•■Charge" rung out full and strong aud tilled
Uie ihe-ater, the o'd herws following it up
with a cheer that was but an eclio i.f t'leone
they gave when in response to th.it s.ime
call they had charged the RoMlfta
Chsrles V> arner, the actor, now aiipeurel,
and, stanling befora the veterans, rreitej
TennvsiKi's imniortHl povm, and .is he came
to the line,
H.imi: UK' l.vli BriS!>tll > ,
He pointed to the war-woni aad batter'il
liemes behind him. (/h-er upon cheer broke
from the VHSt audience, and truly we could
all say that we h.id loolted Qpoa a scene trie
like of whicli few of us were ever likely 1 1
look urxtn a;:i\in.
BE CONVINCEDBY
PROOF POSITIVE
Seattle, Wash., March 25, 1890.
Banufacturtn of Great Sierra fildnty and Lhrtr Curt t
Gentlemen:— l have been
taking your GREAT SIERRA
KIDNEY AND LIVER CURE
for kidney troubles, and I am so
much better I thought I would
drop you a line. In fact, I feel
that I am cured. I have taken
four bottles and am on my fifth
now. I can truly say many
thanks for your WONDERFUL
and GREAT REMEDY. I would
recommend it to all that are
afflicted with any kidney trouble.
Very thankfully yours,
L. D. HEARNE.

xml | txt