The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, March 02, 1878, Image 3

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THE LOST CHILD; —OR,— The Wolf-Woman. opinion, that she was a ghost I never heard tell of one of them bat was all clothed in white.” "This girl, as you call her, was not?” Still, they eonld discern all within reasonable distance, and had little fear of being surprised or their stock stampeded. And so the hoars dragged heavily along nntil No; she had er dress made of skin, with the J near midnight, when the Indian, who was seat- Do yon know the A THRILLING STORY OF THE ROCKY mountains. BY wTh. B. CHAPTER III. "Stranger,” said the new-comer, when he had finished his sapper and bfUtd his PV£ addressing Curtise-“stranger, ought I to be so bold as ter ax whar yer are bound? "I am going to Oregon, trail?” "Every inch on it’ "What do you think of our chances of reach- 1D “Mighty slim. Yer started too late. Yer orter been up and doin’ with the first grass. "Still, if we push forward, we may yet get through?” , ... , "WaJ, yes. I’ve known suoh things done more than once.” , .. "Then we shall be certain to accomplish it— that is, if the lateness of the season is all we hB “Ef < yerknew me as well as Buffalo-Hoof, so as ter put confidence in my erpimon, I d ad vise yer to turn around; go back to the settle ment, and Wait until next spring. "That I cannot do; but why should you ad vise me to such a course ? "Wal, the fact is, the red men are out erpon what they call a grand hunt, but I know that it means war." . .. „ “But you passed safely through them. “And might lose my sca'p ernother time. Thar is considerable in knowing the way.” ‘Perhaps I could tempt you to return and guide us. You Bay you know the road ?” "Yes, but I'm bound for the settlements ter spend the winter. It’s more’n three years sinoe I>e bin erway from the mountings. ” By the aid of the Indian, however, the white trapper was induced to change his mind. "It didn’n matter much, he said, “where he put his time, and the fact was, he hadn’t an overplus of money ter be foolin’ erway among the folks in the city.” So it was settled that he should join their lit tle party, and very glad were all to have a strong armed and sharp-witted man added to the num ber, especially as he had hinted that the Indi ans were dangerous. "Thar's one thing, squire,” he continued, af ter the terms of payment had been arranged, that draws me back more’n all yer gold. ” "That we, of the same blood as yourself may have a ehance for safety, I presume.” "Wal, I wasn’t er thinkin’ of that jest then, and yet I’d do all I could to save the women and leetle ones, bless their bright eyes! No, I wasn’t er thinkin’ of them, but something that troubled me as I was coming here.” “I should suppose that you had seen every thing possible, both in the prairie and the woods.” " So I thought I had, but it ’pears that I was mistaken. You know, Buffaler-Hooftj whar the Missouri runs through the gate in the mountings —the Rocky Mountings, I mean ?” The Indians nodded in acquiescence, and Fish er went on: "Wal, I’d camped thereone night—it was jest as pleasant a night as this ar—the moon and the stars were both shining bright, and yer could see a long distance. I didn’t build no fire, because I wanted a sound nap without any danger of los ing my scalp. ” “Then the Indians were around you? asked Curtiss, anxious, if possible, to learntheir where abouts. “Not one within more’n fifty miles, as Iarter- wards found out, though I didn’t know it then. But as I was er saying, I camped near the river —that is, I roled myself up in my blanket, dug er hole at the foot of a big tree, fixed some stones in front of it, so that the bars or wolves shouldn't git at me before I knew it, and lay down to sleep.” " But the Indians, if they same ?” "They wouldn’t think of lookn’ in sieh er hole for a man,” was the laughing response; "and yet, they’re mighty cute, too, findin’ hiding- places ef they’re on er trail. Howsomever, I’d let the river wash between me and my trail and made er mark in the shore, jest as if er canoe had been shoved off, so that they’d naterally think there were two on us travellin’ in company, and had gone in the boat, so I didn’t mind much erbout them. No, it were the varmints alone that I war er thinkin’ of.” " And are they dangerous ?” asked Mrs. Cur tiss, her true motherly heart thinking of her children. " Not onless they are driven to it by huunger. I’ve bin er travlin’ these 'ere parts nigh on ter twenty years and never was in danger onless I attacked them first. But I could tell yer of a bar-fight ’’ "My brother was speaking of the trail made by the Great Maniton,’’interrupted the Indian to, whom stories of adventures with wild beasts pos sessed no charms. " Yes the gate through the mounting. I’ll tell- yer of the scrimmage the bar and I had Borne other time, marm. Wal, I’d been ersleep some time—how long I don't know, and it don’t matter nuther—when I war awakened by the sound of somebody singing.” "Somebody singing in such a wild, lonely spot ?” asked Curtiss, to whom the locality was perfectly familiar from description. “Yes, sir, singing and it were er gal, too.” " A girl! you must have been dreaming.” "I war jest as wide erwake as I am this minnit. I thought I war dreaming, too, until I pinched myself so as ter almost make the blood run. No, squire, I wam’t ersleep, and yet ef anybody had told me what I saw with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed a word of it.” " And yet you expect us to credit it ?” "I told yer once before that if yeu knew me as well as Buffaler-Hooff did yer’d believe,” replied the trapper, without even a shadow of anger crossing his face at the anticipated unbelief of hisstpry. " The catcher of beaver,” interposed the Indi an "has never let his tongue turn from the straight trail of truth. Let him speak on.” “ Wal, I heard the singing, and saw that it war er gal, fer I had been cunning enuff ter leave a hole, so as to peep out or shoot, in case of danger. She bad a han'snm face, but was dressed the queerest, fer the moon shone full npon her as she sat on a rock er fishing in the river.” “ It might have been a mermaid that had got astray,” said Curtiss, with a smile. "Did she have watery eyes and green hair, and was she combing it with a golden eomb ?” " Her eyes would have made yours water if yer had seen ’em, for they were as black as night, and snapped like stars, and her hair ,was sorter bluish, like a black pigeon’s neck when it turns it about in the sun.’’ "It could not have been a mermaid, then.” “I don’t know what yer mean by er mermaid; but this was either a human being, or—” “Jee-bi.” broke in the Indian, startled out of his usual stoical indifference. "Er ghost! Er speerit! I kinder thought the same, Buffaler-Hooff, and I tell yer I kept jest ah quiet as er mouse.” i "You said she was dressed queerly,” remark- I ed Curtis. - “Fes, and that made me disbelieve my fust fur all on, so that it kivered her all up except her head and hands.” "It was probably some wandering Indian girl.” "Wal, she did have a squaw face, though I never saw one half so pooty.” "Most likely a maniac.” "She didn’t look wild er bit—only sad like.” "And she sat there fishing and singing ?” "Yes, and I watched her fora long time. But somehow I made er little noise, and she started up and fled as ef she had been er deer.” * "Did my brother follow her?” asked the In dian. "Arter a while I did. At the first I war too skeered to do so.” “Did my brother find any trail ?” “Not er single print of er moocasin. I had watched whar she stepped, too, but there wasn’t no more trace than ef er butterfly had trod there.” "And was that the last you saw of her?” asked Curtiss, who, without the superstition of the others, yet felt strangely interested, believing ir to be some poor Indian girl, who had eithe, been lost in the mountains, or, becoming crazyt had fled thither. "Not er bit of it In er few minutes after wards I saw her leapin’ from rock to rock erbove my head, and hollowed ter her ter stop, but she didn’t mind me er bit.” "The spirits of the mountains understand not the language of the sons of earth!” almost whis pered the Indian. "Yes, she must have bin er spirrit, fer I fired at her, and she didn’t even start” " Fired at her! Suppose it had been a girl in reality ?” questioned Curtiss. " Then she would have had er bullet through her,” replied the trapper, coolly, "fer it bain’t often that I miss such er Bhot” " And you would have killed her ? ” “More’n likely.” “But you did not toach her?” " No more than ef I had fired at smoke—the lead went straight through her.” " And she still stood there ? ” "Jest as ef nothin’ had happened.” " Pshaw ! yon missed your aim, or had for gotten to put a bullet in j our rifle—the latter, moBt likely.” “ Did I ? When yer have fought grizzlys (ter say nothing erbout redskins) as long as I have, you’ll alters know that yer weapon is properly loaded.” “ Still, such things have happened, and will again. We are all liable to mistakes.” “ Yer right, squire, yer right I kinder thought sich might have bin the case; and I’d heern say, too, that yer couldn’t hit er ghost with anything but a silver bullet; so, ter make the thing sure, I cut er dollar up into slugs, rammed them down, rested my rifle ercross er stun for fear my hand mought tremble, and blazed erway.” " And you killed her ? Poor girl !” "I can’t say erbout that; but I know that when the smoke cleared erway there war nothing of her ter be seen.” " Where was she standing when you shot ?” " On the very brink of the precipice, and I crawled up tharand looked down.” " And saw—” “ Nothing.” " But you could not rest upon such an uncer tainty. Did you not go below and look ?” " Not until the mornin’, I kin tell yer. Then by hard scratchin’ I got down the foot of the mounting, and found—” " A dead eirl! Great Heaven ! how you must have felt!” " I should have felt a good deal better ef J had. No, I didn’t find any dead gal, but I found a dead wolf, and—” "It was one of the followers of the Wakkah Shecha!” interrupted the Indian, with startling earnestness. “One of the imps of the devil! You are right. Buffala-Hooff, and ef I hadn’t happened to have had some silver erbout me ter cut up inter slugs, I shouldn’t have been here ter tell yer about it.” " It would have tempted you further into the rockB and strangled you. The legends of the In dians are full of such tales.” " One would think we lived among the Hartz Mountains,” whispered Curtiss, aside to his wife, and then went on to question the trap per. That he had been deceived, he did not for a moment doubt; that the wolf had died from other causes than his improvised bullets, he was equally oertain; but he knew the folly of attempt ing to convince either the trapper or the Indian, and as their road lay in the same direction, he determined to satisfy himself with regard to the mystery. "Yon are certain,” he asked of Fisher, "that it was not a female, and that it did not vanish behind some rock or bush ?” “ It mought have been a female wolf for all I know,” was the gruff answer, and motioning to the Indian to follow him, the trapper arose and walked slowly away. Left to themselves, the family discussed the strange story they had just heard, viewing it in the light of probability, and little dreaming how strange a hold it had taken on the superstitious feelings of their guides. Had they known but a tenth part of the "witch tales” that were cur rent among the red men, they would not have been so much astonished, for their legends are full of them. In their superior education, how ever, they make light of the fact that the trap per had found a wolf at the foot of the mountain, and enjoyed a quiet little laugh at the expense of tiie two who were busy discussing some oharm against future adventures of the kind. What the result of their conference was, they kept en tirely to fhemselves, for on their return the In dian took upon himself the part of watoher, while the trapper, rolled up in his blankets, stretched himself npon the ground, with his feet to the still glowing embers, and was soon fast asleep. With nothing to disturb them, they remained till the sun warned them that it was time to be moving. A hasty breakfast and the teams were harnessed, and they started onee more on their weary way, and jogged slowly along, day after day until they neared the rock-guarded pass where the trapper had seen the supposed wolf- woman. It was already growing dark when they formed their little corral ef wagons, and without dar ing to light a fire, (for they ha«l seen signB of In dians,) prepared for a night of unusual watch- fulnes-. "We mustn't let the redkins know we are here,” growled the trapper, ‘fer ef we kin only git through the pass without being seen, there’ll be no sich good place fer an ambush en the hull trail.” Is it very dangerous then,” asked Curtiss. Dangerous! Jest ask Buffaler-Huff! Why, squire, er dozen Injuns could stand thar and stun us to death without our gittin’ even so much as er shot at ’em. I’d rather fight the hull tribe on the open perarer than a handful thar.” *Can we not avoid it altogether.” ‘Yes, ifyer've got wings to fly over moun tings,” and Fisher turned to the Indian with a low laugh. Very soon all was silence save the breathing of the few sleepers, and the restlessness of the stock. The moon was but dimly observable through the mist that rose up from the river aud formed a haze around the top of the mountain. ed next to Curtiss, laid his hand heavily upon his arm, and asked in a low whisper: "Does my brother see nothing moving ?" "No. Where?” “Let him bend his eye to the ground and look there,” and he pointed to where the opening slope ran down to the water’s edge. ‘Yes, I see it now. It looks like a great dog, or s bear or a wolf. What do you think it is, Buff- alo-Hoof?” "It is the wolf-woman. She is looking for the graves of the dead, to tear them up and fatten upon the rotting corpses.” "Then you think Fisher did not kill her?” “She can never die by the hand of a man Front one body she will flee to another. See ! she is digging,” "I’d give a thousand dollars if it was daylight, so that I might follow her.” “My brother should not,” said the Indian, and he laid a hand on the arm of his white friend, that it would have been difficult for him to free himself from. "I am not fool enough te run my neck need lessly into danger, though I do not believe the story. Look!” All doubt as to its being a woman passed in an instant from the mind of the white man. The moon broke through a rift in the cloudy mist, and he could distinctly sea the figure, and he long, waving black hair that floated around the shoulders. “By the heavings !” exclaimed Fisher, "thar she am er gin, the she devil,” and his voice was drowned in the report of his rifle. The smoke lifted, and whatever the form might have been, it was seen crawling slowls, as if wounded, up the side of the mountain. (TO BE CONTINUED.) THE GHOST —OF THE— MALM A1 SON. AN EPISODE OF FRENCH HISTORY Translated from the French for the Suhnt South BV CHAKL.EH OAILMAB1). [Most of the characters in this story are net fictitious, bnt real personages who took conspicuous parte in some of the most important events which occurred during the rebellion of the Westof France—called Cftcuanneric.] CHAPTER CXXIII. Seeing that her brother kept silent, Gabrielle continued: ‘The Emperor has pardoned those whose wives, daughters or sisters have asked for his clemency. I was Saint Victor’s betrothed; Na poleon will have pity on me. And, besides, I will see the Empress; she is so kind, and has always been so affectionate to me, that she will join me in asking the Emperor. He will grant the pardon.’ ‘Will he grant it to-day ?' asked Liardot •To-day! What do you mean ?’ ‘The condemned men have not three more days to live !’ ‘What! It will be to-morrow ! Oh, God ! is it possible ?’ 'To-morrow is Sunday, and the law forbids any execution on Sunday, but Monday ” ‘Then I shall see the Emperor to-day — this morning—I must see him. Francois, you will accompany me; he will receive you. You will tell him that I am there, kneeling down, in tears; he will permit you to bring me to him.’ •I have stiready uses during the night,’ roughly answered the officer, ‘and I have no pretext to enter his private office now.’ ‘You shall find one—or I will go to General Duroc—he will listen to me.’ ‘The Emperor has been working until day light. He is sleeping now.’ ‘Oh, God! inspire me !’ exclaimed Gabrielle. This time the Major did not answer, and Li ardot himself kept silent, sadly looking at the girl, who had her baok turned to the palace. All at once he perceived somebody opening a window on the first floor, near the Pavilion de Flore. ‘God has heard you, Mademoiselle,’ said he, ‘here is the Emperor.’ It was true. The form at the window was that of Napoleon, who appeared, bare-headed. He was no more the General Bonaparte, returning from Italy, poor, of a yellow complexion, and already bending under the weight of his young vic tories; but he was not yet the stern Emperor, fatigued with a long exercise of supreme power, like a Roman Csesar. In 1804, the First Consul could be detected yet under the potentate, and his face framed by the gilt window, seemed like an ancient medallion appended on the royal palace. He had come to the window to breathe the morning, and he inspired with delight the sweet fragrance coming from the garden. He was not looking at the little group near him, and per ceived Gabrielle only when she fell on her knees in front of the window. At the exclamation of Liardot, that the Em peror was there, she had left her brother’s arm and run straight to the man who held in his hand the life of him whom she loved. ‘ Pardon, sire!’ she cried, extending her sup plicating hands towards the Emperor. Brought back to the reality of earthly life, by this exclamation, the supreme ruler of so many men frowned and asked shortly: * Who are you ?’ Then remembering the charming face he had seen so often near the Empress, and recognizing the Major, who was coming to his sister’s assist ance, he added softly: ‘ I know now who you are. Don’t kneel down, mademoiselle.’ ‘Sire, my sister is but a child—forgive her,’ stammered Francois Robert, helping Gabrielle to rise. ‘Let her explain herself,’ said Napoleon, smiling. ‘ I am sure it is not for herself that she asks my pardon. Speak, mademoiselle— what do you wish ?’ ‘Sire, the pardon of a condemned man,’ said Gabrielle, almost fainting. ‘ What makes you take an interest in him ?’ Gabrielle did not expect such a question. She became paler, but she bad an inspiration. ‘Sire,’ she said, *1 love him, and here is the ring of our betrothal.’ She held the ring given her by Liardot, and presented it to tne Empe ror. ‘ He is your betrothed, you say ?’ asked Na poleon; ‘I thought you were going to marry an officer of my body guards. Is it not so, Major ?’ ‘Sire,’ answered Francois Robert, ‘this was almost arranged, and your Majesty had even ap proved it; but some difficulties arose, and—’ ‘Oh! yes,’ said the Emperor, laughing this time; ‘ the difficulties came from a certain ghost in the park. So it is you, ikademoiselle,’ teas- ingly, ‘ who disdain a brave Captain whom I have just made Major and officer of the Legion d’ honneur—and you disdain, besides, the dower I intended to give you for my wedding present ?’ ‘Sire!* exclaimed Gabrielle, ‘I am ready to accept your liberality and marry Captain Perlier —and 1 swear never to see again the man to whom I have given my faith—if you will only accerd him his pardon.’ ‘You love him very much,then?’ ‘ I do love him, sire, but I shall keep my word, nevertheless. I belong to a family in which honor is held sacred.’ * Well, well!—what do you think of this, Rob ert ?’ asked Napoleon, very kindly. 'I say that my sister never lies.’ * Good ! As for the rest, it is Perlier’s busi ness, ’ answered Napoleon.oheerfully. ‘And now, mademoiselle, tell me what is the matter with that man; what has he done ?’ ‘ Sire, he is condemned to death !’ ‘What for?’ ‘He has conspired against your Majesty.’ * He is a cho>jan, then ?’ ‘Yes, sire.’ 4 His name ?’ * Coster de Saint Victor,’ answered Gabrielle, tremblingly ‘ The most dangerous of all; the first Lieuten ant of Cadoudal! If I should pardon him I I would be unjust, for he is more guilty than the others. Do not speak to me of that man; the law must be executed.’ ‘Sire!’ ‘ Do you not know that this man has tried to murder me?’ severely asked Napoleon. ‘No, sire, he never did. It is not so. He is incapable of suoh an infamy. Ask my brother.’ This candid answer cooled down the Empe ror’s anger. ‘Women are all the same,’ said he, shrugging his shoulders. ‘For the man they love, they would turn over the whole planetary system. I could pardon those royalists—and would do it— if they had only attempted to take my life, but they have carried on a civil war against their country; they deserve no pity.’ * Sire, I love him!’ ‘ You love him ! Do you believe that the mothers and wives, mourning now on account of this war, do not love their sons and hns- bands ?’ ‘ Ah ! sire, if those mothers and wives could hear my supplications, they would say to you: ‘ pardon!” ‘What a country is this,’ said the Emperor, half-smiling, ‘ in which little girls find such ar guments in favor of their lovers. You want the pardon of that Saint Victor, you say ? Very well. Let him ask it himself and I will pardon him.’ So saying he left the window. Gabrielle remained motionless, not knowing if she should hope or not. ‘Come,’ said her brother, taking her by the arm. And he went with her where Liardot was waiting for them. ‘The Emperor will pardon Saint Victor,’ said he to him, ‘ but he must ask his pardon him self.’ Liardot shook his head, sadly. ‘ Come to-night to my quarters. I will give you the necessary papers to enter the dungeon. You shall bring me the signature of Saint Victor asking for pardon, and I will show it to the Em peror, who will immediately sign a commuta tion of the eentenoe. It is now your business to hasten and have these things done in time.’ •Tell him,' said Gabrielle, ‘that I, myself, have obtained his pardon, and that I pray him to sign the paper asked of him.’ Liardot bowed and left without a word. CHAPTER CXXIV. At the appointed hour, the old chornn came to Major Robert’s quarters, and the latter said to him: * The Emperor is perfectly willing to pardon Saint Victor, if Saint Victor consents to ask his pardon in writing; he is besides, disposed to pardon every one of the other chouans — Cadou dal included—on the same condition. You see that the master I serve is as good as your princes who send their partizans to certain death and do not share in their dangers. Tell your friend that this is an absolute condition. If you do not suc ceed in getting the requisite paper, the law will be followed. When you are in possession of it, ‘ Very few words. Her brother was there.’ ‘ The Major ?’ * Yes; and he did not forbid her receiving the ring. When Mile. Robert heard of your being arrested, she fell ill, and they made her believe you were dead.’ ‘ She loves me yet ?’ exclaimed Saint Victor. * She has never ceased to love you.’ ‘ Poor Gabrielle! I ought not to let her know my fata I was so fully resigned to die—and now-why should I not own it—now I long to live.’ ‘ You shall not die !’ quickly said Liardot. ‘ I bring you your pardon.’ ‘ My pardon ! Bonaparte pardons me?’ ‘ Yes,’ laconically said Liardot. ‘ Gabrielle asked for it. did she not ?’ •Yes.’ ‘ Has any one helped her?’ ‘ Her brother was there, but I assure you that you owe gratitude only to her ?’ ‘ And to Bonaparte,’ interrupted the young choimn. ‘ Of course, but ’ * Then, he has pardoned Georges and all our comrades?’ * It is in their power to be pardoned. ’ ‘ How’s that ?’ ‘They have only to accept one condition.’ ‘ Ah ! there is one condition. I am not sur prised. It is natural; one cannot expect that a successful soldier understands clemency as a King does. Let me bear the condition.’ * It is not a nard one. Only put your name to the bottom of this,’ said Liardot, presenting a paper. • You may sign it I have written it myself, and I assure you there is not a single humiliating word in it’ ‘ I do not doubt it. But, tell me, do yon bring such a paper for each one of our friends?’ ‘No; I have no mission for them, bnt I know that they will receive such an offer.’ ‘ Cadoudal, also ?’ ‘Cadoudal, especially!’ ‘And do you believe, dear friend, that Cadou dal will nubmit to a condition imposed by the usurper?' Liardot cast down his eyes silently. ‘Answer frankly, my old Fleur-de-Rose, what do you think Georges will do?’ ‘ Georges is not in the same situation you are.’ ‘ Then you think it would be a cowardice in him to accept ?’ ‘A weakness, may-be.’ ‘ On the scaffold, cowardice or weakness is all the same.’ ‘ But you are not Cadoudal. He is the com mander, and his duty is to set an example. ’ * Very well, and I, as his Lieutenant, must follow his example.’ ‘ So, you refuse ?’ ‘I do!’ 1 And Gabrielle! She sent me here herself to ask you to sacrifice your pride.’ ‘ My honor, you mean to say!’ * Your honor is not at stake. You have a right to die; but you have no right to kill by sorrow a woman who loves you.’ Saint-Victor sighed, and tears ran down his cheeks. * Fleur-de-Rose,’ said he, ‘you ought to spare me such torture. But there are things a friend cannot refuse to do. I ought to have known it when I gave you my ring. But now one more question. You have seen Gabrielle and spoken to her brother; you must know what will be come of her. Can you assure me that she will remain tree ?’ Liardot cast down his head. ‘ I understand it all now. To save me she has consented to the marriage they wanted her to contract. I guess right, don’t I ?’ * Yes,’ muttered Liardot. ‘ Thank you, friend. If Bonaparte looks at bring it here with my name upon the envelope, the bottom of this paper for my name he shall and I will imaicdiu'.ciy chow it to the Emperor; not find it. I refuse to sign it.’ but in any case don’t try to see me any more. Cur present interview shall be the last. ’ ‘I shall obey,’ answered Liardot, bowing. * One more word,’ added Robert. ‘You have been a witness to what it had pleased my sister to do this morning. I want it to be kept secret.’ ‘It was perfectly useles to ask me such a thing, ’ coldly said Liardot. ‘ May be. However, you may tell it to the condemned man, but you must tell him all. If he obtains his pardon—and he can if he wishes —he will be a prisoner for life in Fort de Joux. You must not forget to add that Mademoiselle Gabrielle Robert will soon marry Major Per lier.” ‘ I shall not forget anything,’ answered Liar dot. The old chouan, after leaving Major Robert, ran to the Conoiergerie, but the prisoners were then at Bicetre and as it was too late to see them there, he was obliged to wait until the next day. He spent the night in his room, burning all his papers, and fixing up everything for his leaving Paris. He had deoided to leave France, no mat ter what should be the result of his visit to Saint Victor. His friends were going to die. The cause of the King was lost He did not even think of avenging Louise, and if he did, it is not likely that he could have done it. Maneheu, after his crime, had probably left France, where he would be in danger. The next day was Sunday, and when Liardot came to the prison, the condemned were at church, hearing mass. It was near twelve o’clock before he could see his friend. ‘ Is that you, my dear comrade !’ said Saint Victor, holding out his arms. ‘ It is kind of you, dear friend,to come.’ ‘You ought not doubt that I would come,’ an swered Liardot. ‘ I was confident that yeu would try, but I doubted that you could succeed.’ ‘ You foget that I am one of them,’ answered Liardot, bitterly. ‘ I should have come sooner, had it not been for something that has hap pened. ’ ‘Oh ! you came in time—but only just in time —’ said Saint Viotor laughing, ‘ for it is to-mor row.’ ‘ flow do you know ? Who has told you ?’ ‘ Our dear jailor; he has had paid us that kind attention. ‘ Those Jacobins are in a great hurry to offer to their new master the blood of those who served the King,’ ‘ My dear fellow,’ cheerfully said Saint Viator. ‘ I thank them tor that. We are badly treated in this place, and I want to get out of it, no mat ter how. I like open air and will delight in it, even on .the scaffold. Besides, let me tell you, this morning I had a private conversation with a good old Priest. I believe that I am now ready to render my accounts above, and as I have al ways been an inveterate sinner, you know, I want to take advantage of this rare opportunity. But let us talk of yourself, my dear comrade. What do you intend to do ?’ Leave Franoe forever.’ You’re right! But,’ lowering 4 his voice, ‘did you succeed in saving Louise ?’ Louise is d ead !’ Dead!’ ‘ Murdered by her husband !’ * Miserable Maneheu : I always thought he was a traitor and a coward. Were I free,! would take a particular pleasure in blowing out his brains. But do it yourself if you can. By the way, have you fulfilled the mission I gave you ?’ * Mademoiselle Robert received your ring yes terday.’ ‘ Who from ?’ ‘ From myself.’ ‘ So you have seen her ?’ asked Saint Victor, trying to be calm. ‘ I have.’ ‘ What did she say to you ?’ The door of the cell opened, and the director of the prison entered. ‘My dear sir,’said Saint-Victor, ‘our conver sation is over, and I thank you for your kind ness in letting us talk so long; but, yon know, when one leaves for such a long journey, he has always so many things to say to his friends.’ He smiled with such a charming grace that the director looked at him in admiration. ‘ Now, old friend, ’ again said Saint Victor, ‘I believe we shall not see each other any more in this world, unless you come to-morrow to see the ceremony. Should you come, I would be glad to look upon a friend's face before dy ing!’ ‘I shall be there,’ said Liardot, pressing him in his arms. Saint-Victor took advantage of this embrace to whisper into his ear: ‘If you see her again, tell her my last thought was for her!’ CHAPTER CXXVI. After a sleepless night, Liardot, followed by Jacobin, left his room never to come back any more. The news vendors were crying that the execution of the choaans would take place at ten o’clock. The crowd was compact around the prison when ten o’clock struck in the old tower. At half-past ten, a rumor was spread that the Emperor had pardoned the condemned, but at the same time the sonorous voice of Cadoudal oould be heard, saying: ‘Is not that man satisfied with entting off my head, that he wants to dishonor me by asking me to sign such a paper ?’ Another voice, that of Saint-Victor, answered him: You have refused to sign, General!’ As I should have refused tc surrender in Bretagne,’ firmly said the chief of the chouans. The heavy prison gate opened and the doom ed men came out. They were twelve in all. ‘Now,’ cried Georges, ‘let ns show the Paris ians how Christians, Royalists, Bretons, know howto die!’ And without waiting any longer: ‘Forward,’ said he, as if commanding the storm ing of a breast-work. So saying he climbed into the first cart with his cousin Pierre Cadoudal, Pioot, his faithful servant, and Saint-Victor, his lieutenant. Tam erlan, Malabry and the other chouans occupied the other carts. Liardot followed the sad prooession to the place de Greve, where the scaffold had been erected. The chouans fell in line as if at a dress parade, and were led one after another under the fatal knife. Ten timeB that knife fell and rose again tinted with the blood of brave men. Cadoudal and his lieutenant alone remained. Saint-Victor wanted to embrace his general once more, and Cadoudal received this final adieu, almost with impatience, as an act of childish weakness. Then, when the handsome head of his Lieutenant had rolled into the sinister bas ket under the seaffold, the commanding form of Cadoudal appeared, and with the same clear voice that had rung on the battlefield he cried: ‘Comrades, I am going to join you. F»ee It Boi!’ The knife fell for the last time, and Georges Cadoudal was beheaded. Liardot, sickened by the horrible scene, fal lowed the Seine, walking without minding where he was going. Sometimes he stopped, looking at the water with a strong desire to jump into the river and follow his friends, but he was then near the Pavilion de Flore, and he remem bered he had to tell Gabrielle, that Saint-Victor's last thought had heen for her. He took in his hand a letter he had written to that purpose and gave it to the janitor of the palace. As he was passing the gate, he met With Cail- lotte, whs told him: Continued on ttb page,