Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 March 1882 — Page 2

i#H

Continued from First Paff.

The neighbors crowded around, anxious to see the necklace

prized

ppeak. "A dangerous

a child.

The box was of dark wood, quaintly carved oil the lid and side-", and as Adrienne raised the cover, a general i.ry of wonder and delight met her cars.

Madeleine, bending over her child, enjoyed her neighbors' surprise. On a red velvet cushion lay a magnificent necklace, formed of granulated lozenges, in each of which rubies, emeralds and sapphires blazed and nparkled with borrowed lustre. The centre piece, a medallion holding a miniature of the counters,|was set with exquisite diamonds. Adrienne laughed as she watched the stones, and gently patted them with her little white hands. "Heavens! how lovely! Wl:at a princely gift!" cried Marie Meyer, raising it and holding it to the light for all to see it bet-

Madeleine carefully put away the bosf and locked the cupboard. She began to doubt the wisdom of having shown the jewels to her neighbors. In a few days every one in the village would know that she owned a costly necklace, and kept it in the house. She grew nervous, but soon forgot her fears, and began preparing dinner for her child and herself.

The soup was smoking on the table, and the omelet was emitting a savory odor of herbs, when a cry from Adrienne drew her attention to the child.

Kneeling on the window-seat Adrienne's eyes were fixed on the figure of a man coming slowly up the road. For a minute Madeleine's heart ceased to beat the next she knew that the figure was not tall enough for her husband but he was dressed in the well-known uniform of the French Guards, and she realized that her liusband was in the vicinity, perhaps had been injured, and that this man was bringing her news. With the return of power to move came also self-control. Madeleine left the cottage with Adrienne holding her skirt, and going to the gate awaited the man's approach. J*t He was wounded, that she perceived at once, andjjia whole appearance showed Hjat he had been through a fierce struggle. Madeleine opened the gate and motioned to him to enter. "You^belong to the French Guards!" she cried. "Tell me, do you know Jean Renaud "I do, well. He is your husbandf Do not worry I saw him safe and well not an hour ago. The worst is over for today. What to-morrow will bring, Heaven knows! I have lost my way, but I am too exhausted to

retrace

ter. Adrienne gazed at the group too much astonished at the daring act to geVtYia day's kindness." _' ,. He put out his arms. Adrienne at first a 4 a remarked Aglae Leroux, the 1elle of the.

little community. "You are right," said Madeleine,witli an unconscious sigh. "It was too rich a present for one like me, but nothing is too good for those whom she loves she is generous toa fault. Ccuntess Claire loves me as she would a sister, and when I married the said I should have her likeness with me always. Come, Adrienne, show us the largest ruby."

Adrienne put a finger on the stone without a second's hesitation. "And the brightest sapphire?" "Here it is," cried Adrienne, delighted when her treasure was restored to her.

"I never take it out except to amuse Adrienne when I am too busy to entertain her. I often wish she would play out of doors with the other children, but no, she Is just my shadow—she neveiv wants to leave me." "Well, Madeleine, farewell. Let us pray for our army and the king. No doubt, before to-morrow night our fa'.c will be settled." "Farewell,'' said Madeleine, going to the door with her friends. "Farewell. If our martha! is with the troops we may sleep in peac "Mamma, where is papa?" asked Ad-, rienne. looking up, as her mother closed the cottage door, and returned to her side. "In Paris, my child, with his regiment. If he were near us, mamma would not feel so light-hearted. And now, my baby, let me put away the necklace perhaps you can take a little sleep before dinner." "No. I am not sleepy. I will sit by the window some one may come up the road with news."

my steps without

resting. You see I am slightly hurt." "Come in and take dinner with us," said Madeleine, her kind voice attracting a peculiarly fixed gaze from a pair of very blue eyes, protected by long lashes and the heaviest eyebrows she thought she had ever seen. "Tes, come and dine With us," said Adrienne, in her childish, light voice. "Papa wears a coat like that!'* "Yes, and wears it nobly, little one! Tou are both too kind, but I'll not forget your kindness. Jacques Latour never forgets either a kindness or an injury."

The force and die gestures with which these words ware pronounced made Adri enne start back and ran toward the house. "She is eaaily frightened," said Madeleine, keeping pace with the soldier's slow steps. "Every member of my husband's regiment has a claim on my hospitality."

Jaoques Latour ate as only hungry men can. Madeleine made coffee for him, and having satiated his hunger, she brought water and linen and bathed and bandaged his leg.

All the time she was conscious that the man watched her with an intense interest which bordered on admiration. "You do not belong here," he said, at last. "You come from Paris." "Why, yes I was born here in Antoin, Jnt have nrtent nart of nearly every

year in Paris when the countess was there." •*,

"Countess who?" -i£*l V'*. *Couitess d'Aubretot. She is my foster--sister. Is the count with the regiment 7**

"Yes and his wife was preparing' to leave Paris when we started." "Then she is coming here to the chateau!" cried Madeleine, clapping her bands in her delight. To-morrow, Adrienne, we must go to the chateau and welcome her!*1 '•Better not leave the house to-morrow," said Jacques Latour. "The whole neighborhood will be full of soldiers and camp-followei-s, and you and the little one are eafest here besides, the countess cannot have arrived here yet. We came in a hurry. The king and Ihe dauphin are at Fontenoy, and so is our marshal, Heaven ble^s him!" "Just hear, Adrienne! His majesty and our good dauphin! How I would like to Bee them!" "Do not think of such a thing until after to-morrow and now I must get back to camp. Little one, will you kiss me once before I go? Perhaps we shall never meet again but if we do, I shall not for-

tho ffreat Koldier uiss her

cheek.

"You should be more careful of it," said down the road. Marie Meyer, preparing to go. "I would Madeleine and Adrienne strained their not leave it where strangers could see it eyes watching tho blue coat as it gradualif it were mine." ty became indistinct in the distance. "And now,"

hands and

"Should you see Jean, you will tell him that we arc well, and send our love and blessing!" said Madeleine, trying to hide her tears. "I wonder—I wonder he did not come, if only for a moment." "He dare not leave now my being here is an accident. Farewell, and remember, should you or Adrienne ever need a friend, you have only to call on me, Jacques Latour." fo saying, Jacques Latour adjusted Iris sword, took his gun, and raising his hat, as a parting salutation, tried to walk gaily

Eaid

Adrienne. settling her

self in the window-seat, "I must watch for papa" /.j3 ,Zl:, Tt was an echo of Madeleine's own tli-right. Surely, Jean would come. Only a few miles separated him from wife and child the dietancewas no obstacle. Nervous and excited, as the hope of seeing him increased in her veast, Madeleine wtnt uneasily from rooji.'» room in tho cottage, trying by dint pupation, to keep herself calm and light hearted. Every now and then she would return to Adrienne'8 post, caress the child for a few minutes, and again busy herself with domestic carep.

She would prepare Jean's favorite supper, then, if ho came, hungry no doubt

Bay.

and exhausted, after the long march and deep ravine, where the search was neces the morning's skirmish, she would enjoy sarily slow and difficult. Anxious, and the old satisfaction of seeing him eat and I dissatisfied with the search, he started hearing him praise her nice food. alone on a final survey of the ravine, in

Madeleine's cottage was built like the that portion where the reinforcements majority of French cottages of the period, had met the enemy's fire. Jean was noted called pise that is of clay, compressed for just such rapidly conceived ideas, and, and hardened, cut in blocks and laid in like other progressive people, was geuermortar, like stones. These houses are ally left to carry them out alone. Of sometimes three stories high, and have! course, he never shared any btame that window frames of stone. Madeleine's up-' might accrue, but, at the sam& Ttime, he per floors were seldom used she and Ad- often won all the credit of a n*)le deed. rienne slept in a pretty little room to the right of the large, middle apartment, or "grands ehanibre," as it is called. On the left was the kitchen both rooms being shut'off by strong wooden doors from the main one. The back windows of the "best room" were wide and low, opening on a small patch of ground used as a kitchengarden. Vines carefully trained, almost concealed the gray walls, and the lawn in front was bright with early spring flowers, which Madeleine had brought from the lovely gardens of the Chateau d'Aubretot. ..

However, the long afternoon passed away, twilight was creeping like a haze over the landscape, and Adrienne began to lose hope. Madeleine, in her low seat, tried in vain to fix her thoughts on everyday employments. They would wander off to the days of her courtship, and the stormy period that had constantly separated her and Jean since their marriage. Campaign after campaign bad he left home to follow'Count d'Aubaetot'sfortunes in the field, and Jean Renaud was considered one of the bravest men in the Gaards. Tall and powerfully built, the stories of hia prowess and daring seemed almost fabulous but Madeleine never tired of hearing his praises, no matter by whom they were sung. This very natural and feminine Weakness bad caused the only cloud in their short married life. Madeleine's beauty and intelligence had won her many admirers, both in Antoin and in Paris but Jean also belonged in Antoin, and Madeleine had known him always, and cared only for him. But, when his companions in arms sat down to dilate upon his deeds, Madeleine listened with delight, and Jean, mistaking her pleasure for that of gratified vanity, often grew furiously jealous, and being quick-tempered, was apt to eapress his temper in loud tones Poor Madeleine had nothing to meet bis torrents of passionate jealousy but her girlish innocence of wrong and her love, which in his heart of hearts he never doubted only, he was a man of strong passions, and the constant society of men made fierce by the barbarism of war, did not tend to teach him self-control or the gentleness needed in dealing with a sensitive woman. "Bear with him, Madeleine," Countess Claire would

"Men are queer crea

tures. When he is older he will learn to trust you, and feel ashamed of his old suspicions. I am quite sure that if men

t.-,

mg by doubting us." On the other band, Marie Meyer, not lxnng as romantic as the countess, was more practical in her view of the subject. "Be careful. Madeleine, he will do you a mischief one of these days, and then repent his passion for the rest of his !ife. Let sleeping dogs lie. You know what he is now—a chained tiger when he is at home. The battle-field is the best place tor men, after all. Then they can let loose their passions and win fame by forgetting that they are human beings at home they have no use for their grand talents, and we women are good enough for them to vent their humors on!"

Which good advice fell on listless ears, for Madeleine loved too truly to be cautious, and was constantly falling into fresh pitfalls. Recalling the events of that day, she knew that Jean would have preferred another woman than his young, pretty wife to wait upon Jacques Latour, and, no doubt, should Jacques mention the matter in camp, Madeleine would be taken to task for her action. Yet, were it to happen again—a soldier needing help— she knew that she would risk a scolding and obey the dictates of her kind heart. "Were Jean in distress, I would bless the woman who would come to his relief and why should not I do the same for tho husband of some other poor creature, sitting alone as I. do now, wondering if she will ever See her loved one again?" "Mamma, mamma! you must not cry," said Adrienne. "Papa will surely come I know he will!" and Jumping from the window-seat, Adrienne threw herself on her knees at her mother's side, and stretching her slight arms around Madeleine's neck, drew her face down for a kiss.

At that moment'heavy steps were audible on the path, the door was flung wide open, and, rushing in, Jean Renaud threw his arms around wife and child, and pressed them to his heart.

CHAPTER II.

WHAT DETAINED BAN BBNAID.

The skirmish of the morning had been fought between a detachment of French, who were hastily constructing redoubts near the village of Antoin, and a party of Dutch sent to dislodge them. The French had held their ground until strongly reinforced, when the enemy retired. It happened that the regiment to which Jean Renaud belonged was the one detailed to cover the men at work on the redoubts, and it suffered severely during the short but impetuous onslaught. Jean saw his comrades fall around him in numbers, and, the firing over, he led the way to their succor. It was sad and weary labor, for the ground was very uneven, and several companies had beeij stationed in a

Now, as he sprang from stone to stone in the rocky descent, his quick gray eyes darting rapid glances beneath the clumps of under-brush, he was thinking ot the nearness of his own home, and the possibility of hazarding a visit to his wife and child. It would be a dangerous experiment to leaye his regiment in the face of the enemy, even for the few hours that the quick walk would require. Men had been shot as deserters for a less offence then, again, Madeleine did not dream of his presence at Antoin, and would not miss his society. Why take the risk?

Beyond the kitchen-garden stretched Still, everything pointed to a terrible conthe orchard, the trees of which were flict on the morrow. If he did not see white with blossoms in the high grass,' Madeleine before dawn, it was possible daisies and buttercups raised their heads' that he would never see her again. Death, as if coaxing Adrienne to come and gath er them tor a garland but Adrienne was not to be attracted. For months her father's return had been the grand topic of conversation, and now, any minute his tall form might come up the road, and Adrienne wanted to run and meet him.

that had so often spared him, might claim him now.: At eight-fall be could easily leave camp, and by cutting across the weli known fields, where all his boyish days had been spent, he could reach his cottage in an hour. The more he dwelt on the subject the more he hungered for a sight of his wife and child. He pictured their astonishment at his appearance, their joy at his presence with them, their anxiety for his safety on the morrow.

That reflection almost put an end to his intention of going home. For some time he balanced his longing to see his wife with the needless agony she must suffer, fearing for his safety in the coming fight. Yet, if he did not see her to-night, how could he meet the morrow's chances with a brave heart Her love and prayers would inspire and shield him, as he faithfully believed they had in previous battles. See her he must and would!

How often in the fearful future did he recall this mental argument, going over and over the moral conflict which it involved! Had he but clung to his duty as a soldier, trusting the hopes of again seeing his wife and" little one to the God of Battles, how different would have been his future! Years of misery in exchange for one short hour of bliss!

THE TfiRRE HAUTE WEEKLY GAZTTTTE.

knew how we women value confidence anl hurt." trust they would never weaken the feo-

ne»g

Jean Renaud was turning back in the direction of the redoubt, when a fatal moan reached his quick ear. Proceeding in the direction whence it came, he soon perceived a man lying, face downwards, on the bare rocks. He wore the dress of an officer in the Swiss Guards. Jean was quickly at his side, and having raised him in his strong arms, he placed him in a more comfortable position, unbuttoned his coat, and tried to staunch the blood which flowed from a wound in his side. The stranger was a man of thirty or thir-ty-five years, tall, slight, and richly dressed. His hair, where the powder was brushed off, was black, as were his eye-1 the women of that province.

brows and the long lashes pallid cheeks. "It is useless, my friend," he gasped, after some seconds, during which Jean saw that the hurt was a mortal one. "You bad better seek safetv. I am Bast beine

Z7'**

'.v4

danger," said Jean, kindly

"perhaps I can serve you in some way to move you again would only be to hasten

"I know* I know. Who are you?" "Jean Renaud French Guards." I A faint smile passed over the dying man's features, his eyes brightened with agleam of satisfaction. "You are an honest man, then, I can trust you. Ob! for a little strength to tell you all that yon should know, for her sake, my Valentine but moments are precious now. You will not forget f" "Trust me," said Jean. "My child is with the canoness. her aunt, at Arras. You will see that these papers reach her as soon as possible. Her mother's diamonds are in the box. I intended to visit her, and leave them with her, lest this campaign should'be my lastTake them never mind if you do hurt mef it is a relief to know they are safe in a good man's hands."

Jean guardedly drew the packet and casket from the gentleman's clothing, and secured them in his own dress. "You will take my signet ring, too, and my purse and its contents are for yourself. Nay, do not refuse the money it will be of servico to you one of these days, perhaps. You have dear ones depending upon you?" "Yes my wife and little daughter." "Then, take it for them. I, too, have a little daughter—my Valentine. You wiil see your child again but I "Alas!" said Jean, "to think that I, 'strong and willing as I am, dare not movo you, le&t I should hurt you still more." "Do not fret for me it is what every soldier expects—to die for his country. I wanted to see to-morrow's fight. It will be a glorious day for France! Victory is certain you will share the danger and the glory! Your hand, comrade my strength is fast going. Think of yourself, your duties.-1do not fear death I can m«et it here, alone but take with you the last words and wishes of Alfred de Mcrnasse. Tell my daughter to obey her aunt's wishes say that her father's last prayers and thoughts wero for her haprii-

"It#!** -t-i i*

Along sigh and the Count d'e Moniasse farted with exhaustion. J»«an did not like to leave him, but he knetf that his own absence would be noticed, and he felt that to stay would be useless. Having placed the count's head in the most comfortable position possible, Jean glanced again at the long, regular features, still as if already rigid in death, and turned away with a heavy heart. It was not the first time he had been forced to leave a dying man, but he had never before done it so reluctantly.

He found everything in confusion when he reached his regiment. Orders for certain changes in the disposition of the troops had been sent in, and the French Guards had been ordered to the front. This increased the difficulties of a visit to his home, and naturally made Jean more eager to make the attempt.

It was*dusk before he could set out, and his way bad to be very circuitous,

to avoid the sentinels, who were on guard in large numbers. Jean's knowledge of the country did him good service, and at length he gained the fields beyond the outposts, and was able to pursue his way rapidly. The roads were full of stragglers and camp followers, and the knowledge of the immense value of the jewels that, he carried kept him on the alert for every sound and motion.

His joy when the well-known cottage was in sight can be imagined, and gaining the little lawn in front, he had a glimpse of the sweet picture within—Madeleine sitting in her low chair with Adrienne* kneeling by her side. "I knew you would come, papa," cried Adrienne, as soon as she could recover breath after his embrace. "Mamma and I have watched for you evev so long!" "Why, my pet, how did you know that papa was near you?" "Some one was here," said Adrienne, laughing gaily. "And he had his soup with us." "Why, yes," said Madeleine, hastening to explain. "One of your regiment, Jacques Latour. He told us so much news that his majesty and the dauphin are with the army, and that our oountess is on her way to D'Aubretot." *. "I see you know all the budget. Yes, we arrived last night. Madeleine, you and Adrienne must keep within doors awhile. I think every robber in Paris came with us, but I doubt that they find many spoils. We have nothing worth stealing, and our Dutch and English friends travel still lighter of baggage. I wish that you and Adrienne were safe in the chateau but it is too late to go there to-night or I would put Adrienne on my shoulder and set out. Well, how did you like Jacques Latour?"

"Very well. He seetned honest and good-natured. But never mind him—teM me how you have been all these we»ks?" "As you see, in good health and in good spirits, except when I thought of you and the baby here without me. However, should we win the battle^ to-morrow, no doubt the campaign will be ended and, then, farewell to soldiering for me. The eount has offered me my old posttion as forester at D'Aubretot, and I have accepted." "Ah, Jean, if yoa only would giye- up this terrible life, all made up of partings and anxiety And Madeleine stopped her preparations for Jean's supper to throw her arms around his neck and thank him with kissee.

He watched her quick, light movements about the cottage, thinking that he had never seen her look sa handsome. Her soft, dark braids were partly hidden by the low cap of white muslin, peculiar to

lying on his I brown eyes were shining with delight and excitement, and the determination not to give way before him, but to encouftft him by the assumption of gaiety, gave an unnatural brilliancy to her cheeks and lina

Her large.

Madeleine wore the peasant's costume when at Antoin—a short, bright, scarlet petticoat, a black jacket, and a colored apren long gold ear-rings, and a gold chain and cross. This dress was peculiarly becoming to her tall, rounded figure, and she wore it with ease and gracefulness. It was Jean's favorite dress. He rather disliked the long skirts which she put on when in Paris so as to look as if she belonged to the city.1

The little party quite enjoyed the hasti-ly-arranged supper. Adrienne sat on her father's knee, her golden ringlets touching his powdered hair and long braided queue, which was a source of endless amusement for her. One delicate little arm and hand rested on his neck, the other alternately fed him and herself. Madeleine waited on father and child, and tried to forget the morrow.

At that period the dress of the French Guards was more picturesque than practical for fighting purposes. "The army was at that time," says one of their own writers, "enslaved by the fashion of powder and queues." The coat worn by the French Guards was of dark blue. All the soldiers wore a belt and a large shoulderbelt. Both pieces were made of silk. Those for the corps elite being adorned with lace. The pointed hat was mounted on a paste-board block, without fur. The foot-soldiers had a cartridge-box for cartridges, worn on their right side in their belt, and on the left a hanger, which held at the same time the sword and the bayonet ease.

Adrienne, having satisfied her hunger, began to play with the cartridge-box, and to exert her small strength in opening it. Jean looked meaningly at Madeleine. "I have not much longer to stay with you, Adrienne, kiss papa and go to bed mamma and I have something to say to each other": "Ah, no, please let me stay with you," said Adrienne, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing kisses on his cheeks and lips. Jean held her in his arms for some minutes longer, wondering, as men will, at the beauty and fragility of the little creature who was his very own, whose very helplessness held him bound as if in chains. So, for some minutes, father and child sat thus, without speaking, until the sacred stillness made Adrienne drowsy, and Madeleine took her from Jean's reluctant arms and carried her into the next room, whero she laid her gently on the bed, put a light covering over her, and then returned to Jean.

He was sitting nearer the table,' on which lay his cartridge-box, empty. From it he had taken a purse, and he was counting out of it gold iouis d'or, which he had placed in a pile in front of him. Two parcels lay at bis elbow. "Heavens! Jean, where did "you''get them?"

Jean threw his arm around Madeleine, and drew her to a seat near him. 4 "It is along story, my dear, let me count these, and you shall hear it all. There—three hundred louis d'or only think of it, Madeleine! They are

kours,

honestly ours should anything happen to me to-morrow "Ah, Jean, do not speak, like^that. I cannot bear it." 1 —*3* "But, Madeline, some must fall, fand I do not bear a charmed life. Be sensible, my darling, and listen to me. This money, if necessary, can be so placed, aa to keep you and Adrienne from want. If I do not come back you will give it to Count d'Aubretot to invest for your benefit. Promise me." "I do—I will," said Madeleine, with an effort to gain her self-controL "What a pretty purse, Jean!,It has a coronet worked in this comer—n "Yes it belonged to the Count de Mornasse. You will keep it, Madeleine, as a souvenir one of these days it may prqve useful to us. Now, these packages, in case—well, in case my duties fall to you to carry out, must reach the Countess Valentine de Mornasse at Arras, where she lives with her aunt, a canoness. You see these are all papers, title-deeds to estates and in this casket—se«! Jean pressed a spring, the lid opened, and Madeleine gave a pigh of admiration at the brilliancy and size of the diamonds thus disclosed. "They were her mother's jewels. This signet-ring of the count's I will put with them. And now, Madeleine, where is the safest place to hide them? As soon as possible after to-morrow they must reach their proper owner. I do not like the responsibility of keeping them, even for a few days." "I suppose the safest place will be in the Swiss box with my necklace. It is large enough to hold all of them." "Well, get it and now you shall hear all about them."

While Madeleine unlocked the cupboard and took out her treasured box, Jean described his finding of the wounded count, and their long interview. While talking, he held Madeleine's necklace to the lamp, letting the rays fall on the dazzling gems, to admire them, and then he carefully arranged the jewels and papers beside it on the velvet, "No one dreams of what tbis cottage contains, Madeleine, or you would scarcely be safe in it when I am away." "Alas! Jean, only this morning Adrienne asked for the necklace before some of our neighbors, and 1 was silly and vain enough to let them see it." "Who were they "Marie Meyer, Aglae Leroux, Annette Despard, and Victorine Gabeille. Of course they arm all honest, but "But they are gossips, and may talk. Well, Madeleine, cheer up. We will find a safer place for the gems and gold, and you can tell our neighbors so and now, my own darling, I must leave you."

Madeleine threw her arms around him, unable to utter a word, and for some minutes only her sobs broke the stillness. "You will unman me, darling, if you give way like this, and I need all my courage now," be whispered, keeping back his own tears, while his arms held her as in a vise. "Madeleine! Madeleine! I must go. Surely, surely, you would not have vour husband called a coward!"

4, I1

The agony in his voice roused her. She lifted her head from his breast, and unclasped her arms from his neck. ••One minute,*? she whispered. "Go and kiss Adrienne, while I put away the box."

Madeleine placed the box in the cupboard and locked the door, and put the keys in her deep, inside pocket. Going into the next room, she saw Jean kneeling by the bedside, his gaze fixed on Adrienne's upturned sleeping face. Her little mouth was smiling. Perhaps she dreamed of him. Jean kissed the drooping eyelids and waxen cheeks, bis hot blinding tears no longer to be kept back, and then he rushed from the room. Madeleine closed the door after her, and softly drew the heavy wooden bolt into its socket, thus guarding against Adrienno leav ing the room should she awaken. Tha done, the mother gave way to the wife and she followed Jean out on the lawn caught up with him at the gate, and, put ting her arm in his, they set out tows." A 1 "Just to tho top of the hill, Jean. W have often walked it together, when yo~ were sure to be back in a few hours-

Well, as you will. Should it be our las walk together, Madeleine, at least it sba be a happy one."

He tried to impart to her some of hi own courage and renewed cheerfulness but Madeleine bad never felt so utterl despondent.

It was a lovely night the stars glit tered above the still landscape and th white cottages standing out from th* background of dense forests. The per fumes from the blossoming orchards am hedges were wafted in the sweet fres air no sign of the hostile armies, whe only awaited dawn to begin their terribl work, was visible where Jean and Made leine finally parted, with a last passionat embrace—he to speed away, afraid glance behind him, while Madeleine, sink ing on a rock, gave way to tho pent-u grief and despair so long hidden and con trolled.

She sat thus until Jean's tall figure dis appeared in a piece of wood througl which his way led, and then, with an cf fort, rose and turned her face homewar She stopped at the gate to secure th latch, and coming up the little'path, etc for a second for a last look at the peace ful, starry sky, at' the dewy, tremulou May blossoms, and a lingering glance the direction of Fontenoy. "God protect my poor Jean, to-morrow! she murmured. "How shall I live throng it, sitting at home with folded hands! Ah well, I am not the only poor woman fret ting this night for to-morrow's woe. A rienne will wake and miss me. Poor bab .Adrienne! how little she dreams what hanging over us and she is so fond her father! If anything should liappe to him, I think the child would die!"

So saying, Madeleine opened the heav door, entered, and turning, secured with a strong bolt. Then, turning agaii she was advancing toward the table whe she heard a strange, scratching noise, an looking up saw a man standing in front the cupboard, trying to open it at th middle door. [The continuation of this remarkaK romance can be found only in Ihe colum of this paper, in its Saturday issue It not be neccssarv to buy the New Yo Weekly to get it. Our advice to everyo is to subscribe for the daily Gazbti which includes the larsre Saturday editi and which costs but 15 cents for the enti week. Such persons as cannot get daily can find the Saturdav issue at news star da, with the news boys on streets or at the Gazhttic business ofllt No. 25 south Fifth street.]

Astronomical Progress* Like sand of the sea, the stara heaven have been used as effective syn bols of number, and the improvement our methods of observation have adde fresh force to our original impressions.

We now know that the earth is but fraction of one out of 75,000,000 world But this is not all. In addition to tt luminous heavenly bodies, we canuc doubt that there are countless other invisible to us fron their greater di tance, smaller size, or feebler light deed, we know that ihere are many dai bodies which now emit no light or cot paratively little.

Thus, in the case of Procyoa, the exie ence of ail invisible body is proved I the movement of the visible sta Again, I may refer to the eurious ph nomena presented by Algol, a bright sfc in the nead of Heduaa. This star shin for two days and thirteen hours the in three hours and a half, dwindles fro a.star of tha second to one of the four) magnitude and then in three honra at a half, resumes its original brillianc These changes seem certainlv to indica the presence of an opaque body, whi intercepts at regular intervals apart the light emitted by AlgoL

$ Pinched to Keep Awake. Ruskin was unflatteringly truthf when he said: "We are all, and alwa asleep half our lives, and it is only I

{earn

inching

ourselves hard that we ev to understand anything. At leal it is not always we who pinch ouraelvt sometimes other people pinch us, wbic I suppose, is very good of them but is a sad life! made up of naps ai in

To call an elevator an "alleviator," a lady is said to have done recentl may be murdering English—but wi extenuating circumstances.

One of our policemen who had be laid op with a sore hand remarked th while he had a felon on a finger, couldn't lay a finger on a felon.—[Bi ion Transcript

The Chinese do their courting proxy. If the proxies pay the bills, the are many young men who would li the system introduced into this counti

"Excuse the impudence of my clcr as he is my son/' is the sign hanging in an Iowa hotel.