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» THE FL0 ^ mu ten on Hearts and Clover By M. O. MacDayid Written for the SUNMY SOUTH E LOACHE and I sat con- versing in my room at the old St. Charles hotel. It was 8 o’clock, but dinner is always late in New Or leans. Even the humblest laborer would no more think of dining before 6 than of going without his early morning cup of black French coffee. The eve ning was warm and sul try. Two excellent cigars had sent us both into an exalted state of blissfttl contentment. Do I.oache was entertaining me with old legends and romances connected with the city, when a tap at the door brought us up from our tranquil mood, and a mes senger announced that Dr. De Loache was wanted at No. — Royal street. De Loache was a physician who enjoy ed a fashionable practice, especially among the Creole population of the city. Arising hastily, he insisted that I ac company him, and I accepted his invi tation, rcadinly, thinking the case might he an interesting one, which it later proved to be As we bumped along over the cobble stones De Ixia-che related to me the char acter of his patient’s malady. For years he had suffered from insomnia and mel ancholia. and at times neither ate nor slept for days, anti spoke only when it was absolutely necessary to express his wants. He lived in a comfortable home, surrounded by servants and tenderly eared for by an elderly French lady. As the coupe drew up. we were met at the gate by an aged negro, who urged us to hasten, that “Monsieur was in a vi i-y bed way. " -So we hurried ->T< the hoard oak stairway into a quiet, elegant chamber, where, prone upon a couch, in utter self-abandonment, lay a man. 1 more perfect pose accustomed to , had his mor- nd turning the rolled back his sleeve and gave him a hypodermic in jection. For a while we stood silently watching him. His form expressed ele gance; his face an extremely sensitive and highly strung temperament; yet the mouth told of a firm, courageous but af- factionate nature. His dark eyes slow ly opened, and fastening them upon me, he said: “Ah, monsieur, this existence is tor- lure! If you could only know the dark history of what should have been the palmiest days of my life!" I was surprised that he should thus address one whom he had ne j r before seen; but being of a more sympathetic nature than De Loaohe, I knelt beside the couch. I saw' that the morphine had infused a fire of excitement within him, have never 2 seen a incur for a pici 1 jre of despair. De Loac !ie, evidently this i L’ondit ion of affairs, pliine out in a trice, at man over on his back, i and that he wished eagerly to talk upon some pent-up subject. So Isaid: “Tell me of it, my friend. I am sure it will lessen the load upon your mind, and I feel a deep interest in youir sor row." He gazed long and earnestly in my face as though he were reading the impulse which prompted my w'ords—whether they were curious or truly sympathetic. Ai length he answered: “I will. As you have said, ’twill pos sibly in a monsure ease the burden my conscience bears. What does it matter? The end is near.’’ lie did not appear to notice the presence of De Loache or at least Look no heed of him. “Monsieur,” he began, “I am an Amer ican. not a Frenchman, although lor years 1 have lived in the old French part of the city. At the age of twenty- seven I sailed for Europe to take up the study of tlie science of earthquakes in Japan. WJien I ’eft America I stood on the threshold of a noted career. My fame as an electrician, scientist and as tronomer had been sounded afar. I was talented and a genius. Young, strong, full of hope, life and ambition. All this and more 1 staked on a woman, and lost! Bui wail, monsieur, she w'as worthy, aye. worthy of it all. “At Paris it w r as that I saw her first, just fifteen years ago; in a little Gothic chapel there. And as she knelt before Hie altar, her proud young head bent in oblivion to all around her, my mind could picture no lovelier sight. I mused, ’ilow r beautiful and how holy!’ The rays of the early morning sun glistening through tile emerald and opalescent panes of an at. glass near danced like autumn leaves over the exquisite green and bronze gown she wore. And I felt the wish take form within me: ’Would ■that she were my sweetheart and pray ing for me!’ So I stood almost in the entrance door, that I might gain a glance as she passed. She came so near my hand touched hers. She looked up quick ly into my face, and when hor eyes met mine, I knew my life was hers from that brief moment. Although it was but an instant and she had passed out and on, 1 cared not. 1 knew we would meet again. Ah, God! If we had never met l “I remembered that, as she passed me, 1 perceived the perfume of clover, and recalled that I had noted a bunch of those selfsame blossoms with their green leaves, thrust carelessly’ in her belt. “1 soon obtained the information that siie was traveling with a party of Ameri can tourists, and that ner home was in New Orleans. Through the American minister and my own good faniliy name in Now York I was presented and trav eled with them the remainder of the time they were aoroad. Nor was that ■». 0.9 m 9 ■•■m • •*•••*•••' all. Together we sketched and painted the glowing sunsets of beautiful Italy. Side by side we reclined in golden moon light as our gondola sped over the smooth waters of Venice, wnile the songs of the gondolie: s mingling with the laughter and music front passing boats was a merry accompaniment to our happy hearts. “Arm in arm we climbed the Alps, a 1 " 1 in the Land of the Midnight Sun drank milk together from the same rude mug, served by a gentle maid in dainty cap and sabots. “But it was in Egypt that I told her of my love. The entire party had been rummaging through a very musty and forbidding cave, which was supposed to be the ruins of some ancient temple. No one wished to remain—certainly not we two—but one young professor insisted upon peering among the tablets and dust long after we were ready to depart. Adele shivered from the cold and damp ness. and throwing my cape around her, I buttoned it under her throat. ■’Somehow, tlm contact of my’ fingers with her tilted chin caused me to forget my resolution to hold back my confession until the day of her departure, and look ing straight into her eyes, I whispered: “ ‘Adele. je vous adore'.' And then I poured forth rapidly the story’ of my love. “She seemed more startled than pleas ed, and only whispered: ‘Ernest, how could you tell me in a place like this? Some evil will surely befall us.’ “But I waved her fears away, and handed her a four-leaved clover, saying; ■Jee. ti.eart, it is the iuck leaf to your favorite flower! Surely this talis man will ward off any evil the place could Inflict.’ So I insisted upon an answer then and there, and to prove the nature of the answer I received, I sailed with them from Liverpool as the fiance of the beautiful Miss Van Courtlandt, of New Orleans. "When we reached Louisiana she bade me enter that sweet Creole home and meet her family, which consisted of an aristocratic, dignified father, who was both an extensive cotton planter and politician, and a gentle old grandmother, who spoke no English lest she forget her mother tongue, and who had never been on the American side of Canal street; but she gave me a warm welcome, indeed, in French. New Orleans went wild and fairly bowed down its head to the charms of my betrothed. “The days that followed were full of bliss for Adele and me. The wedding was to occur In June. But tiie shadow that was destined to darken her life and mine fell at last. It was on the night of one of the greatest carnival balls, and she was queen. Ah, how like a • •*•••*• • —& — 0 »-0-:0 — 0.:0;.0.,. 0.:0.*.0~0.~0—0 — 0 000.. 0-m-0-*-0 — 0—0.» queen she seemed that night, loved by all me*., but loving none but me—pour ing balm on the wounded hearts at her feet, and handing them back with wom anly’ dignity, tender, gracious and beau tiful. “The midnight chimes of St. Louis cathedral were mingling with the music of the ball. Ash Wednesday was already begun, and we were preparing to de part. We were arrested on our way from the dressing room by some one who wished to present to Adele Monsieur DO., hypnotist, phenologist, aTtls* and what not. Devil! say 1, that world ex presses all! From the moment I looked into liis sinister face, with us gleaming eyes and Van Dyke beard, I hated him. His glance traveled over my beautiful Adele with undisguised and uncontrolable admiration, and I noticed, with a start, that he wore a boutonniere of clover blossoms, matching exactly the shower bouquet carried by Adele. “As we drove home that night we were beth strangely silent. A mood of sad ness was upon us. as though we stood fi ig'htened upon the brink of an unknown precipice, beyond which was darkness, mystery and fear. When I turned to leave heir in her home, she clung to me, almost sobbing, so I kissed her eyes, her lips, her hair, as though it were for the last time, and so it was—forever! telegram called me to New Y'ork the next morning, where 1 remained ten days, and in that time I received not one word penned in answer to my let ters to Adele. So I reached New Or leans in impatience, and dirove straight to the Van Courtlandt home. 1 was fold that Adele was indisposed and eouid see no one. But Madame Ijefort, the dear grandmother, came down, and in tears told me what had taken place in my absence. “Rumors and whisperings were abroad in the city that our engagement was broken, and Adeie and .Monsieur D’O were now betrothed. Adele, She said, would not speak upon the subject, and, in fact, was almost unapproachable upon ali subjects, sitting brooding and silent all day until M. D’O. came in the eve ning. Then she would spring up half frightened, and go to meet him, smiling and gracious. What strange spell had litis man cast over my darling? “I left the hous^ in agony, after learn ing that Adele was to accompany M. D’O. to a private musicale :n the eve- nin. I walked the streets almost madly, and night found me before the house in which the guests for the musicale had already assembled. . I waited calmly till the close, and all were dispersing, but when Adele emerged from the door, my calmness vanished, and springing for ward, I grasped her hand and she, with a little saream of gladness, would have »■«••■«•• — 0 — 0 almost fallen in my arms, had not Mon sieur D'O. appeared from behind and caught her firmly by the arm as though to steady her. She sank back trembling, as he said: ’The carriage is waiting. “Without excuse I stepped in front of them and demanded speech with Adele. Bowing low, with the grace of a king, M. D’O. replied: “ ‘I have the honor of being Miss Van Courtlandt’s escort, but she can use her own pleasure in being detained.’ “I looked at Adele. She was drawing herself up into a rigid attitude, and bow ing coolly to me, took the arm of M. D'O. and was led to the carriage. T stood dazed, stupefid, until I realized the horrible truth. Adele was under a hyp notic spell, and knew not what she did! “Midway down the street I dashed madly after the retreating carriage, but its lights soon became confused with those of the city, and I found myself at the Jackson square. I entered the park gates, and as the realization of iny great grief rolleAI back upon me I sank, upon one of the iron seats and fell to sobbing—sobbing like a child. “How long I sat there I knew not, but a rustling in the cameiias near caused me to sit erect ana look about. And there, walking in meditation, was a man. His face was upturned to the full moon, and in its gleaming light I recognized the devilish features of M. D’O. 1 watched him as a lion watches his prey upon which he is about to spring, whiile the voices within me cried, 'Kill! Kill!’ “Onward 1 came, stealthily creeping, creeping. I had no weapon, but my hand clutched the neck of a bottle of old wine in my top coat pocket, which was to have gone to Madame Lefort, but which was now to serve another purpose. “I almost laughed aloud as my arm shot out like a thunderbolt, dealing him such a biow on the head that he fell to the ground lik lead. Then I lost all reason, but they tell me 1 was found on my own threshold unconscious, and that lor weeks I lay tossing in delirium. But never a word did I utter during the lime to criminate myself. “While convalescing I expressed a de sire to see Adele, and was quietly told by some one who knew nothing of my affaire de coeur that she was dead. Then, little knowing how every word was stabbing my weak heart, he related how’ she had committed suicide over the grave of Monsieur D’O. How they had found her lying across the grave with her life blood mingling with the clover that had sprung up over the mound. “Ah, Mon Diett! If my soul could have left this body then! I lay for days in a semi-conscious state, trying to grasp the greatness of my misfortunes. And there was no day. All was dense, dark night. No moon, no stars. The rolling black shadow of my overwhelming sor row had cast the whole world into eclipse! “I remembered the exact location of the spot, and I knew I could find it; for here, all who can, bury their dead in mausoleums. My nurse left me for a walk, and ere she had turned the corner of our block, I, too. with a superhuman effort, dressed and made my exit. "On I rushed and stumbled, compelled many, many times to rest my w’eak body on tiie way. At last I reached the spot, and as I stood there gazing down upon the grave of tiie man I had slain, I ob served a peculiarity about the clover at my let t. and reached down for a handful. 1 started back. Each leaf w r as stained with a blood-red heart! "Believing it only an optical illusion. I dashed them to the ground and grasj)- ed another handful. They, too, were splotched with the red hearts standing in bold relief. Turning, I fled, staggering from the place. My mind was strangely clear and calm. I remember hearing tiie chirp of crickets and the bark of a dog back toward tiie city. “Upon reaching home. I lay all day and part of the night Tr?.-".- -t^r-bed. ex hausted. And conscious kept murmuring: ’His blood and hers is upon your hands.’ “At midnight I could rest no more. The four walls were stifling me. 1 felt that I must breathe pure air. So I wandered far into the night, into the green fields, out from the eyes of men, under God's stars alone. And the smell of clover haunted me always, always. “And as I stood, like some bleak, dark spirit of the night, wrapped in my own melancholia of soul, a slight breeze lift ed the damp locks from my forehead, and I turned to behold my poor injured love standing by my siuel Her glorious eyes full of love—full of sorrow; how they burned, burned into my heart! And 1 grew sick and trembled as she van ished from my sight. “Ah, I can see her standing now, beautiful as on the night her soul met mine! And I swear, as the breeze passed me, I smelled the breath of clover, sweet and clear upon the air. Mon Dieu! My heart is breaking—! can endure no more! Messieurs, your pardon. I have fatigued you—trespassed upon your patience. The wine—sil vous plait.” De Loache sprang forward and placed the glass to the dying man’s lips, but he seemed not to see, for his eyes were fastened upon space, and his lips were moving and entreating. Then a smile broke over his face, glorifying it like the face of an angel. He raised his clasped hands and cried, “Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, merci, merci!" and in the stillness that followed we knew the haunted soul had passed beyond and had been for given. But the strangest, most inexpicable part of ail is this: When they came to at tend the body they found, just above the heart where the blood had settled, three large, dark spots, with a short mark terminating between them; and I could not fail to note the resemblance to the three leaves of clover. **«**•• No one could quite xeplain it, and it all remains a mystery still; hut the skeptic who visits Louisiana, believing not in signs and symbols and the com munion of souls, can wander to a spot far out from the noise and strife of tiie city, and see what I have seen, and hear strange, varying stories from other lips than mine, and gather for himself a handful of hearts and clover. 0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0— 0—0—0—0 — 0—9—9 —0—0—0—0—0—0— 0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0-0— 0 —0 — 0f0 — 0—0m-0-m-9»-0t'0»-0»-0—0 — 0—0—0—0—0—0— —0 — 9— 0 — 0-1 • 0—9—9—9—0* T5he Miser 0-9 — 9—0...0.,. m . m . m ... B ... ## ,... # ...,... HAT about old Wolcott? Why not ask him to join?” “Wolcott! The stingiest old beast that ever lived! He’d never jcin anything that would involve an ex penditure of three-lialf- pence! He's saving up his money to buy a new pa per collar!’’ At which re markable sally «f wit there was a gene-ral laugh. The junior clerks of the Dulnrinster Branch of our bank were getting up a bridge club, and they were discussing who might be re lied upon as likely members. Harry Wolcott, who had just been described as “the stingiest old beast that ever lived,” was our head cashier; and. fond as I had once been of him. I found it practically impossible to bring forward any very strong arguments In his favor when this very uncomplimentary phnse was applied to him. At tiie same time, being next in seni ority to Him in the bank, and having known him years before, wlien he was a totally different type of man, I should certainly have llktjd to stick up for him if I could reasonably have done so. For. about a dozen years earlier, when we had both come to tiie Diilrr.inster bank to gether. Wolcott was one of the brightest and most charming fellows imaginable; and every one who Jin ew him then would unhesitatingly have described him as “one of the best.” Ho was an acknowledged leader !n all «;r sports and amusements, while at tiie same time he was considered by*, the manage!- to be one of tiie most capable ’ and hard-working young ifellows In the bank. And It was as a result of this that he had reached his present position of head cashier in such a remarkably short space of time. About four years ago. however a complete change came over him. and the cause of it all was that by no means uncommon calamity—he fell in love. Tiie object of his affections was Daisy Mainwaring, who was employed as a governess in a family living a few miles out of Dutarineter. She was known to be 'desperately poor, having not only to work for her own living, but having also a widowed mother, who was en tirely dependent upon her earnings; ana when the engagement was first announc ed we all felt rather sorry for Wolcott on tliis account. But when we came to know Daisy by sight, and still mo:e (when a favored few of us had the supreme felicity of being invited out to tea by Wolcott to meet her we were all prepared to swear that, 'dowry or no dowry, the man who won her hand would be an uncommonly lucky chap. She was one of those pretty bird-tike little girls with an inherent genius for daintiness, and though, of course, she necessarily dressed plain and economical way, she had so much taste, and put on her clothes so cleverly, that she pro duce! a far smarter effect than many other girls whose dress allowance amounted to ten times as much as she spent upon her clothes. Moreover, she possessed in a very high degree that in definable gift of charm which made it a pure pleasure to be in her society or to enjoy the flashes of he.r clever conver : a- tion. Every one congratulated Wolcott on his engagement and when Jie went away that summer for his holiday on the continent it. was generally understood that Mrs. Mainwaring and her daughter had plan ned to spend a fortnight at the same '■•■•-t.O r# * * *-*-#'*.# *-0.:0.— 0 — 0*‘0'f0—0-»'0 — 9 — 0 — 0 — 0 — 9 — ness. There was, however one thing to be thankful for, and that was that, so far, at any rate, he had not tried the experiment of drowning his cares in the whiskey bottle! But it was sufficiently evident that there was something on his mind that caused him constant anxiety, and it was not until the very day of the conversa tion about the bridge club, related above, that the real explanation of his peculiar conduct occurred to me. That afternoon a teleg’-aph boy came into the bank and handed me two tele grams. One was for Wolcott, the other was for young Dick Haverdale, who was by way of being a good deal of a sportsman, and was known to be in the way of receiving Invaluable tips on horse racing. Haver dale opened his wire, ground his teeth, and crushed the pink paper up in his hand, and as I turned toward the head cashier's desk I noticed that he did iden tically the same thing. And it was then, for the first time, that the whole thing flashed across me. I wondered that I had never thought of it before. Wolcott had been completely knocked over when Miss Mainwaring had jilted him; and she, by the way, had never returned to the neigh borhood of Dulminster after that disas trous summer holiday. And so it was horse racing that he had taken to as a solace for his troubles! Ail the same it seemed a miserable tiling for a man to have given tip all his friends and rational amusements and to be prac tically starving himself in order to enjoy the occasional excitement that is provided bv the amusement of gambling. In fact, I began to feel so virtuous that I made up my mind I would break down the bar rier of reserve that had grown up be tween Wolcott and myself, and would give him what the goody-goodies call a “heart- I ••••■•■ 0—0—0— —0 — , Swiss mountain resort. He went away in the highest spirits, and It would have been difficult to find a more typical specimen of the cheery and healthy Englishman. When he came back, three weeks later, it was obvious to every one that some misfortune had happened to him. He c\as transformed ail at once into a gloomy and taciturn Individual, who kept aloof from all the rest of us, and seemed to shun the society his fellow creatures altogether. It was sufficiently evident that his engagement to Miss Mainwaring had been hroken off. and it was not very 'difficult to guess that he considered she had treated li!m very bad ly. otherwise lie would hardly have been changed at one blow from a bright and cheery youth into a morose and pessi mistic man. And c.ne of the most sulk ing characteristics of his new phase was his extraordinary meanness. We did not notice it so much at first; but gradually it became apparent that he had given up buying cigars, and later on ills clothes began to show signs that ne was also economizing over his tailor’s bill; and. In fact, all the younger clerks, who had only known him in this mood, promptly nicknamed him “the Mis?r.” Ho even went so far as to change his rooms for a dirty little lodging in the cheapest part of the town: and this in spite of the fact that he was earning a far higher salary than any of the rest of us. • I.n fact, we all felt rather sore an this point, for we considered that he wa3 bringing discredit upon the bank by his shabby appearance and by living in such a low neighborhood. To mark our dis pleasure a good many of us took to cut ting him. and in a short time there was hardly a fellow in the bank who ever spoke to him except in the way of busi- to-heart talk’’ on the subject of gam bling. Naturally, of course, my strongest card to play would be tiie fact that the bank enforced the most stringent rules agtiinst gambling in any form on the part of its employees; and consequently he was run ning a terrible risk of losing his position altogether. So, having made up my mind to speak to him, I followed him out of tiie bank that afternoon as he slipped on his shabby overcoat, and. putting my arm in his, I said, as cordially as I could, ‘‘May I ^ome with you, Wolcott? I want to have a chat.” He said nothing, but made a gesture of not very enthusiastic assent. And so, to the great surprise of the other clerks who saw us. I walked off with Wolcott in the direction of his lodgings. They were certainly squalid enough, and I could not. help feeling that they constituted a far more eloquent sermon on tiie evils of gambling than any I could possibly hope to preach. Wolcott found me the least uncomfortable chair in the room, lighted a match for the pipe which I had just filled from my pouch, and then sitting down in an abominably bony-looking chair himstftf. he said, resignedly: “Well, old man. fire away!” And I fired away, i positively astonished myself with the elo quent discourse that I poured_ opt on the wickedness of gambling in general and of the folly of horse racing in particular! I felt as though I were at least vice chairman of the Anti-Gambling League! And I soared into flights of oratory that would have appealed to the heart of the nether millstone! But poor Wolcott was evidently so hope lessly infatuated with his vicious passion that he merely sat and listened with a sort of sardonic smile on his face; and he waited until I had quite finished be fore he uttered a word. Then he looked up and said, almost in the tone of voice that he had used in the old days: “My dear Turner, you really are a d—d fool!” He said it s 0 quietly that at first I did not fully realize the insulting nature of his remark. As soon as I did, however, 1 need not say that I rose from my seat at once, and gathered up my hat and stick. “Good-evening, Mr. Wolcott,” I said, with as much dignity as I could assume; “I am sorry that I have wasted my time!” “So am I, Mr. Turner,” said Wolcott, grimly. And in another moment I found myself in the squalid street. I must own that I was disappointed. Bitterly disappointed. I had certainly thought better of Wolcott. I went home to my own (comparatively) luxurious rooms, and reflected on the ingratitude of human nature. Wolcott might go to tiie devil his own way, for all I cared. This was while his recent insult was still rankling in my mind. After a time, however, my better nature prevailed. 1 determined to make one more effort to save him. I would go to Mr. Hannaford, our manager, and lay the case before him. in strict confidence, of course, and see whether something could not still be done before 1* was too late. The next morning I glared stonily at Wolcott when he came into tiie bank, and then, after having given Mr. Hannaford plenty of time to deal with his corre spondence. T went to the manager’s office and boldly knocked at the door. In an other moment I found myself in his pri vate sanctum. Mr. Hannaford was a real good sort— the kind of man we all liked and respect ed. otherwise I should never have thought of going to him about a matter of this kind. As it was, I found it much harder than I had expected to tell him my Continued on Fourth‘Page.