Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 27 April 1882 — Page 2

CONDEMNED.

Continued From Firvt Pafc.

not, then Adrienne would give way to her bitter despair. (Seated at her window, she would gaze in the direction of the distant city, whore her father was, no doubt, thinking of her, and her vivid imagination would bring: before her «ye« his figure and face as she saw them on that last day.

O'Rourke sometimes brought news of him ho would see him at work and cautiously exchange glances* if possible, a few words. Always the same message for his child: Adrienne was to be happy and contented tho knowledge of her well being took the sting out of bis disgrace.

And this was the burden of every one's advice she was to be happy. Adrienne to please her well-wishers, tried to forget her share in the past injustice, tried to think calmly of the weary man, still strong and young in yearB, with a long life yet before liim, to be filled only with misery, and found her efforts futile.

To forget, no matter for how short a time, waa but to remember with additional anguish when the distraction was over.

Aided by the duchess, the young people were always aiTanging and carrying out little pleasures. Adrienne was always ready for a drive to the city—it held a hope of seeing the father who in one Bhort interview had won the girl's whole heart.

One morning Valentino surprised the jiarty with a new recreation. Adrienne was fitting on the terrace, listless and j»ale, Raoul in vain trying to interest her, urd the duchess was listening to some plans of tho Marquis de Calonne's when Valentine came out to them. "There is news! O'Rourke has just come from the city. Would you believe it. the chateau next to this is open, full of workmen, and the court is crowded with wagons, bringing all kinds of things from Toulon!" •'What, the Chateau La Grange!" said the duchess. "It has been closed ever since we came to Provence." "Who owns it?" asked the marquis. "I never heard. Tho duke, you know, has no curiosity, and I never think of asking about it for fear of getting on dangerous ground. No doubt the owner ie coming home." "That is the old chateau. Raoul, that I told you about. I used to wish to visit it. I am sure that you can get there in a few minutes through the door in our orchardwall. Adrienne eat up, suddenly interested. ".Suppose we go," said Raoul, rising. "If the place is full of work-people, we can look around without disturbing any one."

To distract Adrienne was the most deferable of all things. In a few minutes the whole party was ready. Tho girls, arm in arm, ahead, the duchess, who was not. eo light of foot, a little behind, a young man on each side to smooth nil difficulties.

The orchard was bright with sunlight and fragrant with ripe fruit ready to their hands. Valentino took a peach, tossed it. in the air. and laughed as she caught it again. In spite of being nameless. in spite of Adrienne's sorrow, life to this girl seemed brimming over with delights to her it was impossible not to appreciate and enjoy them.

It required some time and much strength to open the iron, but once thrown wide, it was evident that this door had Wen purposely arranged as a means of rendering communication between the two chateaux rapid and easy. A few steps led to a winding path, now overgrown, but shaded and arched by tall, branching trees, whose thick leaves resisted sun and rain alike.

A lew minutes' walk brought the party to a small garden, on which opened a sidedoor of the chateau. The sounds of voices and various noises proclaimed the presence of the new occupants, and Raoul, without hesitation, led the way into the vestibule, and opened the door leading into a large parlor.

Exclamations of surprise and pleasure followed. Mere everything '"id been U\oierr.izod -nid titled up with the luxurious extravagance belonging to the age, Persian carpets covered the floor the walls were concealed with crimson and damask crystal lustres hung from the high ceiling, their glories being njultiplied in the large Venetian mirrors. Satin couches, gilded furniture, candelabra?, and clocks on marble stands took up much of the space. Every table held flower baskets of gold, or ivory, or ebony, while here and there china monsters, and pieces of rai Chinese porcelain were scattered with lavish hands. "What can it all mean said the duchess. "And done so quietly, tort it is like the pceries in a fairy tale, where all is changed by the motion of a wand!" "Let us go farther," said Adrienne. "We can ask who is coming to take possession of all these elegant, things."

Valentine had already reached a door which opened into a small ante-room. This was also newly-furnished, to correspond with the one they had just admired.

No person was visible. They went on until'they'reached the main hall of the building. Here a number of men were unpacking boxes, and a woman was giving directions.

Hut she knew nothing of the owner, or of his whereaWuts. Orders had Wen received from Paris by agents in Toulon, and she had been engaged with a small it»tinue of servarts to oversee the care of the chateau after the rooms were refurnished.

In the main hall the improvements had not been commenced, but although dusty and faded, the hangings and furniture were Of a modern date, and in good condition.

Valentine examined the apartment in silence, tonchintr the furniture, and walk

ing up ami down as if intensely interested. Suddenly she opened a door leading in a direction exactly opposite to the one by which they had reached the main hall arid, Wfore Adrienne was able to join her, she was hurrying along a broad passage, lit by narrow windows and empty of all fu rniturc.

Henri de Calonne followed, and found her trying to open a door at the other end of the long corridor.

Her eager, startled eyes, white cheeks, and trembling hands alarmed him. *1 will do that," he said, putting his hand on the heavy door-handle. "Yes, quickly I must see that room!" "Why, Valentine, you look as if you had seen a ghost! What is it?" "Open the door there, I knew it! See, the picture!" A long, wide gallery, hung with pictures, met his glance. She ran past him. and stood with clasped hands before the full-length portrait of a woman, so like herself that Valentine might have Wen the original. "That is my mother! I remember it and the room is just the same, nothing altered. Oli, Henri, something is going to happen! I feel it. Where is Adrienne?" "Here I am!" and Adrienne, entering, looked around the apartment, a smile parted her lips. "Why, Valentine! the pic-ture-gallery you used to dream of! and where is the portrait that you loved to be near?" "Here, Adrienne, quite safe! Ob, if the chanoinesse were here now, surely she would tell me all!" "We have, by accident, learned one of her secrets," said the duchess, glancing from the picture to Valentine. "She has had some powerful motive in guarding it all these years, Valentine. Your interests are.no doubt, involved otherwise she would not have deprived you of this treasure, your mother's portrait." "And the changes here!" Valentine's eyes grew bright with hope. "Some one is coming can it be my father?" "It is more likelj% Valentine, that the chanoinesse, having arranged your affairs, has given orders to these people in Toulon to prepare the chateau for your reception. Some important concerns prompted her visit to Paris. I do hope, for your ck'-. that I am light in my conjecture. TTr.t full ine, what drew you to this galluryt" "I cannot tell you. As a child, I spent hours of each day here it was my favorite resort. I suppose the portrait was my attraction. You see those newly-furnished rooms suggested nothing to me, they were quite strange but as soon as we reached the large hall, everything seemed to grow more and more familiar. I seemed to know where each door would lead me if I opened it, and instinctively I went to the one leading to the corridor. It was my old habit returning after all these years." "And iejit possible, Valentine, that you have no recollection of your father*" said Adrienne, her eyes filling with tears. "None, none whatever! I have tried at times to recall him, his form, his voice but in vain! I suppose I saw very little of him."

The duchess had been closely examining the different pictures, always returning to the one so loved by Valentine. Her face at length excited the girl's curiosity. She put her hand on the Duchess d'Aubretot's. "You must have known my mother,'' she whispered. The ducheBs started as if from a reverie. "Valentine, I may tell you this: your face was fumilitfr to me from the first, and the chanoinesse admitted that I had met your mother. This portrait solves the whole problem. I did know your mother, and this chateau was hers she waa a wealthy heiress, and must have married very young. Ask me no more questions the chanoinesse is no doubt preparing a surprise for you. and, as we have partly anticipated it, it is only fair to leave her something to tell you." 8!ill. I am glad you told me this. I loved you, but now that I know you saw my mother, spoke to her, and can one day speak of her to me, I love you more than ever."

The duchess embraced and kissed the girl, and then Adrienne hugged her in her impulsive way. "Only to think, Valentine, after all, you are a great heiress, and I am only a poor convict's child!" "But your Valentine just the same, Adrienne. Besides, as yet I have nothing but if I ever have it in my power, my first thought will be to help your father." "You are so good, so kind, Valentine. I often wonder that the mai-quis does not feel at times a little jealous of me—I take up so much of your time and thought."

J'Henri must answer for himself," said Valentine "I loved you Wfore I knew of his existence." "You are right, Valentine," said the marquis "the greater your love for Adrienne the greater mine for you. But you are both growing excited had we not belter leave this gallery, Valentine? Now that we can find our way here, I will bring you here whenever you wish to see the pictures. All this time I have Wen trying to find one that might represent your father, but from what the duchess has said it would not W here, this estate having belonged to your mother." "Let us go home," said the duchess. ••We have had excitement enough for one day. We can go home by the road, so as to extend the walk." So saying, she led the way to the ball.

The front court and lawn were bright with busy workmen, to several of whom Raoul spoke but no one had heard anything. Wyond the orders for putting the building in a habitable condition.

Valentine and the marquis followed very slowly, stopping often to look back, so that Valentine might rccall the appearance of her old home, but she could not remember it.

The Chateau La Grange was, in fact, a building of great antiquity. Its towers, ramparts, and bastions were, however, in rood Dreservation, and while externally it

THE TERRE HAUTE WEEKLY GAZETTE.

retained all the peculiarities or the age in which it was built, the interior bat! undergone successive alterations under it3 wealthy owner, until it possetedjRome oi the most Wautiful halta that the arts of each period could devise.

The southern front of the chateau looking toward the Chateau d'Aubretot, was full of large, pleasant apartments, and these bad evidently Wen selected as the most fitting and cheerful to occupy.

The walk home was rather a silent one. Adrienne was absorWd in the mystery that surrounded ami troubled Valentine, and the duchess and Raoul could not help discussing it.

They found the duke on the tcrrace, anxiously awaiting them. He had important news for them. The Duke de Choiseul was on his way to Provence, and would be entertained by the Duke and Duchess d'Aubretot.

To give the Minister of France a fitting reception would require much preparation on the pail of the governor, and the duchess was needed for advice and counsel.

Adrienne and Raoul followed the duke and duchess into the large drawing-room, but Valentine lingered without, under the cool air and shady trees. The discovery of the morning had awakened a tide of recollections, and Henri de Calonne was a willing and tender listener to Valentine's new hopes and fears.

Meanwhile tho duchess discussed amusements and invitations, and O'Rourke was called in to give an opinion aa to the size and qualifications of the duke's retinue. "And Adrienne must look her best, if the Minister of France is to see her for the first time." said the duchess, playfully. "Raoul's lovely diamonds will look charming with a white-satin court-dress." "Must I be presented," said Adrienne, flushing painfully. "Yes, indeed, and Valentine also. I shall tee about your dresses the first thing to-morrow."' "It seems such a mockery, Raoul. I have no claim to any share in this pageant, and my heart is not in it." "Still, your absence would cause more remarks than you have any idea of. The Duke do Choiseul is aware that a Mademoiselle d'Aubretot exists he would inquire for you, and that would lead to explanations. I think that until something definite is discovered, or some arrangement made for your father's release, that these should be avoided. Then, again, the duchet is miserable without you." "Ycr», and for her sake I must forgetmy own feelings. They take my thoughts far away from all this. But, Raoul, how much longer can I bear this suspense? It is wearing me out. Every morning when I waken 1 think that before night there will be some news from the chanoinesse but night comes and nothing more has Wen heard from Paris. What do you think, Raoul?" "It is difficult to give an opinion the clianoincsse is very determined, very persevering, and she has great influence at court. But twelve years, Adrienne, is a long time and if no direct news has come from this Count de Mornasse, she will no doubt seek out some of the returned exiles, and inquire from them whether he has Wen heard of in England or Germany. It can only be a siow search." "Oh, Raoul, perhaps we are pleasing ourselves with false hopes. My father's words, my own heart tells me that this man did not survive "The Count de Mornasse craves an aiudience," said a servant, entering, and addressing the duke. "The Count de Mornasse!" shrieked Adrienne. running to the duchess, who took the girl in her arms. "Tho Count de Mornasse!*' said the duke, completely puzzled. "The Count de Mornasse!'' repeated the duchess. '•The Count de Mornasse!" Raoul echoed, with a reassuring glance at Adrienne, who in vain tried to speak.

The servant looked at the duke. "He is outside, sir, in his carriage. I told him you were engaged, but he said he had important business with yon." /:fjt "Oli, let him come in!" cried Adrianne "Do you not hear? It is the Count do Mornasse! the man my father aided—the man who can restore him to freedom! Oh! is not this salvation for him—forme?"

Crying and laughing in turn, Adrienne threw her arms around the duke's neck, "Calm yourself, my child I will see this gentleman. Why, Adrienne, in tears again?" "But these are for joy." "Well, stay with your mother, and 1 will bring the subject up as soon as we have listened to his business with me. Can you W patient for a few minutes?" "Have I not Wen patient 1 "Yon have, indeed, my child." The duke was agitated with an effort he turned to the servant. "Well, show the gentleman in. First, we must, hoar him."

In a few minutes the servants flung wide the great doors of the room, and one of them announced: "The Count de Mornasse."

As he did so, a man appeared in the doorway, and, with a comprehensive glance around him, entered the room.

A tall, wiry man, dressed in the extreme fashion of the day. Every garment, every detail of his costume, his foil-skirted, velvet, gold-embroidered coat, his satin waistcoat and breeches, his rolled silk stockings, and his high-lieeled, diamondbuckled shoes, all were bright with the gloss of newness. The family met hi3 low, graceful WWB with equally polite salutations. The duke proffered a chair, which he accepted with another Ww. "The Count de Mornasse?" said the duke. "At your service, sir. You are the Duke d'Aubretot ,.

The duke bowed assent. *4) V, I'fJs't CHAPTER XIV.

F.,

THE COO'T DK JJOBXISSE.

"You will excuse my trespassing on vour time when I have explained the ob

-1

ject of my visit." said Count de Mornasse. "Not at all. I am very happy to have the pleasure of receiving1 the Count de Mornasse. In my capacity as Governor of Provence, if I may W able to serve you. it will give me extreme satisfaction to do so. You have recently returned France," said the Duke d'Aubretot. "Very recently. Perhaps you may have —known my family in former years." "I regret to say that I did not. Until appointed to this governorship, I spent my time in the North. Your family come from this part of France?"* "Yes our estates lie principally in Provence. No doubt I shall often have need of your #ood offices, as I renew possession of them." -4 "Very probably and no doubt the coming visit of our minister, the Duke de Choiseul, will enable you to lay your affairs Wfore him. We expect him within a few days." "I shall W delighted to meet him," remarked the count, his dark, restless eyes meeting the duke's open glance. "In establishing my claims here, I, however, anticipate few difficulties. In fact, my visit to yon to-day was not at all connected with business affairs. A dearer motive brought me here. When I quitted France.

Bome

years ago, I left, for safety,

at the College d'Hyeres, my only child." .. Adrienne rose, and advancing a few steps, her hand still in that of the duchess, spoke impulsively, her large eyes shining with delight. "It was a daughter?"

The count turned quickly, and looked at Adrienne, admiration and surprise expressed in every feature. .9 "Yes a daughter and her name was

"Valentine! Oh! I knew it. I knew it. Ola! mother, is it not charming?" The count rose, and approached the ladies. "Can it W possible that you arc my daughter?"

Adrienne changed color, and shrank

away from his eager eyes and extended hand. "Oh, no, no! I am not

Her confusion grew painful. "She is our daughter—our child," Caid the duchess, drawing Adrienno to herself with a curious, defiant gesture, and courtesying to the count. "Excuse me but I called at tho college, and wa9 informed that Mademoiselle Valentine was on a vi^it to the Chateau d'Aubretot."

t-—

—j*.

"And so she is. I will send for her," said the duke. O'Rourke, who iad not missed a o:v!. disappeared with alacrity, and after some minutes returned with Valentine. She came in, bright and smiling, glancing rapidly past tho stranger. Strange gentlemen were not rare at the chateau. The stranger, however, watched her eagerly, as the duke tried to prepare lier for a glad surprise. "Valentine, my child," said tho duke, "if a fairy should enter at this moment, and tell you that you might make a wish, which, no matter how great, would be granted "Why, I should ask to see my father." "Well, then, let me see, who shall be fairy?" "What do you mean? It is not possible!"

Valentine looked at the count, whose anxious, admiring glanccs now met her eager gaze. The duko put her hand in the stranger's, and drew back. "And are you indeed my father?" she exclaimed, as the count put bis arms around her and kissed her forehead, "Yes, my daughter. How lovely you are." "Oh, how I have longed for this day to come," said Valentine, passionately. "Ob, Adrienne, did I not tell you thio morning that something strango was going to happen?" -/—»», "Yes, indeed, and it was in the Chateau La Grange."

"The Chateau La. Grange!" cried the count, starting. "Why, were you there?" "Yes was it not curious, our visiting it only this morning?" "Then it is not far away?" said tbo COUnt. "Only a few steps, by tho gardens," said Adrienne. "Now we know why it is open and occupied. You eent to have it put in order?" "1 did, mademoiselle, several weeks since, as soon as I reached Paris, knowing that my daughter would perhaps prefer it as a residence, it having belonged to

"Oh, Adrienne, wa3 there ever such a happy girl as It Oh! I feel like crying for joy. And Henri?" "Henri repeated the count, with a rapid glance around him. Raoul left the room. The duke undertook the explanation which Valentine'9 blushes rendered necessary. "In a few words, count, wo have had a little romance going on here for some time. It ended a,few weeks since in a double Wtrothal. In your absence, and from the fact that nothing bad been heard from you for twelve years, the chanoinesse, who has Wen a mother to your child, acted in the capacity of parent. She consented to a betrothal Wtween your daughter and the Marquis Henri de Calonne. When I eay that he is the representative of one of the oldest and best families in France, and does honor to the name be Wars, I am saying very little of what is due to his merits."

The count seemed at a loss for words. Valentine timidly put her hand on bis arm, and looked in his face. --r-r

love him very dearly you will like him for his own eake, be is so good, so brave, and so fond of me." ~TT.'r~ "Of course, my child, your happiness is my first consideration, and in my absence you would naturally form new ties. Well, as this Wtrothal seems to give general pleasure—I see you all smile as if it were very delightful to you—why, I suppose, I cannot withhold my consent."

Valentine threw her arms around her father's neck, too happy for words.

.......j

JV"

"Here is the marquis, allow me to present him," said the duke, as the young man entered.

Ceremonious bows followed, the count's quick, searching glances comprehending the new figure as they bad the others. "I thank you, sir, for the honor you have conferred upon my daughter, as, placed in her position, few 'gentlemen in yours would have proposed an alliance with her." "No, no! You wrong your daughter.— Unaided by the advantages which your return secures to her, her charms of person and mind would have ensured her Wth esteem and love. In accepting my devotion, your daughter conferred a lasting favor on me."

The count smiled. "I see, you are a lover. Ah, well, we are young but once! You will rememWr that in trusting my daughter to you I give you my one treasure."* "Which I hope I fully value, although I may really never deserve it," said the mai-quis, Wwing over tho count's hand.

Valentine shook her head at him. "You are letting your modesty run away with your common-sense, Henri. A few hours ago we stood on equal ground. Well, Adrienne, is it not wonderful—my father's happy return?" "Think what it is for me, Valentine, for your father can restore to me mine!" "Yours, Adrienne! Why, what have you heard "Is it possible that you did not hear your father's name when the duke introduced him and the marquis?"

Valentine flushed and hesitated. "Why, Adrienne, I was so anxious aWut Henri that in watching him I did not hear a word of the introduction." "Well, then, Valentine, I can surprise you your suspicions about the chanoinesse were correct. Oh, you must W a witch, and I am 60 happy I could cry with joy! Why do you grow white and shiver? Do you not guess?" "Oh, Adrienne, end this suspense. Who is my father?" "The Count de Mornasse." "The Count de Mornasse 1" echoed Valentine. "Yes and oh, Valentine! he may be, he must W, the man my poor father aided. He left France twelve years ago "Tho Count de Mornasse!"

Valentine could only repeat the wellknown name. Now that the suspicion was verified, now that her own name was openly given to her, and connected her with the man, the mere mention of whom had so agitated the chanoinesse, her reason refused to grasp the fact in its entirety. So it is that realities often seem more impossible than the fictions vividly woven by the imagination. The Count de Mornasse stood Wfore them, in his own person representing a Wing around whom had revolved the thoughts of four persons and in whom the hopes of all were centered. Valentine could but gaze at him as he talked to the duke and Henri, and try to connect him with all these important ideas. The man who once lay helpless on the battle-field, the man for whose testimony Jean Renaud had so long waited, the proscriWd nobleman, who had entrusted, his little, motherless child to the care of the good chanoinesse, and had gone into a weary, hopeless exile, the forgotten father, for whose return Valentine had prayed and hoped the allpoweriul witness, whose mere word was to restore Adrienne to life and joy! No wonder that, as these considerations surged through her brain and thrilled her heart, Valentine could but stand with her arm around Adrienne, and look at the Wing who might indeed be said to have come, in answer to these strong invocations, from another world.

Perhaps the duchess and Adrienne were moved by the same emotions, for they too had their gaze fastened on tho stranger. "It seems too wonderful, too good to W true, Adrienne. Ob, if you aro indeed right, my happiness will W complete. Your father's sacrifice shall not have been in vain, for my father will give him back to his country, to bis child! The Count de Mornasse!" [The continuation of this remarkable story can he found in the Weeklv and Saturday issues of the GAZETTE. Back numbers can beobtained at thisoffice.]

An Old Girl Who Knows How It Is Herself. [Olive Logan

A woman's safeguard is to keep a man's hands ©ff her. If you need his assistance in walking, take his arm instead of him taking yours. Just tell him in plain English to "hands off." He may not like it at first but he will respect you in the future ten-fold more. Men will be and do just what the women allow them to do. Men will not do to trust.

Give a man your arm and you will find him very confidential, and he.will take a great many privileges he would not take if he was not permitted to do so. He will give your arm many loving squeezes and sly twists that he could have no opportunity of doing, and the opportunity is just what he is after. A few more words of advice, and I close.

Keep young girls off the street except when they have business. Teach them it is unnecessary to go to the postoffice every time they go out. Your girls can walk alone just as well as }rour boys. Don't allow your girls, if they must have a beau, to go with boys much older than themselves. If possible, instill into their very nature that they are safer in their own hands than they are in the hands of •ay man —preachers not excepted.

A waggish journalist, who is often merry over his personal plainness, tells this story of himself. I once went to a drug-store for a dose of morphine for a sick friend. The night-clerk objected to giving it to me without a prescription, fearing I was going to kill myself.

Pshaw!' said I, 'do I look like a man who would destroy himself?' Gazing steadily at me, he replied: 'I don't know. Seems to me, if 1 looked like you, I should be greatly tempted to kill myself.'

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THESE 1 Am IN cms

DK. CLARKE'S

INVIGORATING PILLS.

For all Nerve and. Brain affections aro in valuable. They are prompt, safe and ef fectual. The best known remedy in th© world for nervousness in all xtageo Weakening of the memory, Loss of braiu power Nervous Debility: Lost energy, Jo»t Hopes, Imprudences of Youth: excesnes iu matnrer vears, Seminal Weakness, and General Loss of Power in Generative Organs. To those»ufaring from Nervous Irritability, Nervous lleatiiiche. nervous Hhock nervous Prostrafkiii, Nervous exhaustion, relief i» afforded. It many cases of female weakness tho

like a '•harm. The Htudent^

the Tea -tier, the Clergy man, the Kflitor. Die BuMnt'.-.-s man. can all be benefited by their use. Life is too short to waste away in a dull torpid manner, when a tl.OO box will benefit you, and six boxes will cure and restore you to health and happiness for (7.50. Ask your druggist for them. Take no other. Or send direct to the manafacturers, who will send them by mall, sealed on leceipt of price. Address Dr. Clarke Medicine Company, 658 Broad ay. New York. Send cent lamn for circn'ar.

ADIESfilUHITE 1|0»SE WW

of the kind I 8c

The ONLY Book of the kind I ever jmb'6 NEWEDITIOX. W»»mn?r5not5epf?scSnin?^iO mrrn -'eel Prvjit* of the Indies of the White lnose. with *ie» -f m^njr of rh« Homes of the Presidents. •~ry successful in «elline this A n-ptltDWantl "i book. Send for Circulars. A*

WMMMM

A- MCMAKTH.

HH Clnelncutl. Okio.