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[From tlio ClticRgo ledger, j
OLIYIA;
--on,-
TEE EOCTCE’8 TWO LOVES.
BY THE ATJTHOB OF
" The Second Mrs. Tillotson,” "Never
Forgotten ,” Etc., Etc.
CHArTEH XLIV—CONTINUED.
The little child puzzled me. Yet I
could not help fancying that this young
Englishwoman traveling alone, wdtli no
knowledge of French, must be my
Olivia. At any rate it could be no
other than Miss Ellen Martineau.
“Where was she going to?” I asked.
“She came to Noireau to be an in¬
structress in an establishment,” an¬
swered the driver, in a tone of great
enjoyment; “an establishment founded
by the wife of Monsieur Emile Perrier,
the avoeai 1 He 1 he! he! Mon Dieu!
how droll that was, m’sieur 1 An avo¬
cat ! So they believed that in England ?
Bah! Emile Perrier an avocat—mon
Dieu 1”
“But what is there to laugh at?” I
asked, as the man’s laughter rang
through the quiet night. de¬
“Am I an avocat?” he inquired,
risively ; “am I a proprietor ? am I even
a cure ? Pardon, m’sieur, but I am just
as much avocat, proprietor, cure, as
Emile Perrier. He was an impostor. wife
He became bankrupt; he and his
ran away to save themselves; the es¬
tablishment was broken up. It was a
bubble m’sieur, and it burst comme ca.”
My driver clapped his hands together
lightly, as though Monsieur Perrier’s
bubble needed very little pressure to
disperse it.
“Good heavens!” I exclaimed; “but
what became of Oli—of the young
English lady and the child ?”
“Ah, m’sieur!” he said, “Ido not
know. I do not live in Noireau, but I
pass to and fro from Falaiso in la
Petite Vitesse. She has not returned
in my omnibus, that is all I know. But
she could go to Granville, or to Caen.
There are other omnibuses, you see.
Somebody will tell you down there.”
For three or four miles before us
there lay a road as straight as a rule,
ending in a small cluster of lights
glimm ering in the bottom of a valley,
into wliicli we wore descending with
great precaution on the part of the
driver and his team. That was Noireau.
But already my exhilaration was ex¬
changed for profound anxiety. I ex¬
torted from the Norman all the infor
mation ho possessed concerning the
bankrupt; it was not much, aud it oni^"
served to heighten my solicitude.
It was nearly eleven o’clock before we
entered the town; but I learned a few
more particulars from the middle-aged
woman in the omnibus bureau. She
recollected the name of Miss Ellen
Martineau, and her arrival, and she de
scribed her with the accuracy and
faithfulness of a woman. If she were
r-nt Olivia herself, she must be her
*■% y ot)uili,erpart. -—.......... f “'
But who was the child, a girl of nine
or fen years of age, who had accompa
niedher? It was too late to learn any
more about them. The landlady of the
hotel con firmed all I liad heard, and
addod several items of information,
Monsieur Perrier and liis wife liad ini
posed upon several English families,
and had succeeded in getting dozens of
English pupils, so she assured me, who
had been scattered over the country,
heaven only knew where, when the
school was broken up, about a month
ago. early the next morning
I started out
to find the Hue de Grace, where the
inscription on my photographic view situ- of
the premises represented in the them condition as
ated. Tlio town was
of a provincial town in England about
a century ago. The streets were as
dirty as tho total absence of drains and
scavengers could make them, and the
cleanest path was up the kennel in the
center. The filth of the houses was
washed down into them by pipes, with
little cisterns at each story, and under
almost every window.
There were, here and there, many
improprieties, and many indecencies,
shocking to English sensibilities. In
the liue de Grace I saw two nuns, in
their hoods and veils, unloading a cart
full of manure. A ladies’ school for
English people in a town like this
seemed ridiculous.
There was no difficulty in finding the
houses in my photographic view. There
were two of them, one standing in the
street, the other lying back beyond a
very pleasant garden. A Frenchman
was pacing up and down the broad
gravel path which connected them,
smoking a cigar, and examining critic
ally walls. the vines growing children against the
Two little were gam
holing about in close white caps, and
with frock, down to their heels. Upon
seeing me be took his cigar from his
lips with two fingers of one hand, and
lifted bis hat with the other. I re
turned the salutation with a politeness
as ceremonious as his own.
“Monsieur is an Englishman?” he
said, L. a doubtful tone.
“From the Channel Islands,” I re
plied. “Ah! belong to us,” he said “but
you ;
you are hybrid, half English, half
French—a fine race. I also have
English blood in my veins.”
I oakl monsieur a compliment upon
the result of the admixture of blood
in his own instance, and then proceeded
to unfold my object in now visiting him.
“Ah!” he said, “yes, yes, yes; Per
rier was an impostor. These houses
are mine, monsieur. I live in the front
yonder; nay daughter and had the son-in-law
occupy the other. We photo
graphs taken for our own pleasure, them from but
Perrier must have bought
the artist, no doubt, I have a small
cottage at the back of my house; voila,
monsieur! there it is. Perrier rented
it from me for two hundred franca a
year. I permitted him to coaeh-house pass along
this walk and through our
into a pas age which leads to the street
where madame liad her school. Permit
ice. and I will show it to you.”
He led me through a shed, and
along a dirty, vaulted passage, into a
mean street at the back. A small,
miserable-looking house stood in it,
shut up, with broken persiennes cover
ing the windows. My heart shrank at
the idea of Olivia living here, in sucli
discomfort, and neglect, and sordid
poverty. English
“Did you ever see a voung
lady here, monsieur?” I asked; “she
arrived about the beginning of last No
vember.”
“but yes, certainly, monsieur,” here
plied; “a charming English demoiselle!
One must have been blind not to ob
serve her. A face sweet and (jracieuse,
with hair of gold, but a little more
somber. Yes, her,‘but yes! The ladies might
not admire we others-”
He laughed, and shrugeed liis shoul
ders in a detestable manner.
“ W hat height was she, monsieur ?” I
inquired answered: “not
“A just height,” he like
tall like a camel, nor too short a
monkey. She would stand an inch or
two above your shoulder, monsieur.”
It could be no other than mv Olivia!
She had been living here, then, in this
miserable place, only a month ago; but
where could she he now? How was I to
find any trace of lier ?
‘ I will mako some inquiries from my
daughter,” said the Frenchman; “when
the establishment was broken up I was
ill with the fever, monsieur. We have
fever often here. But she will know—
I will ask her.”
He returned to me after some time,
witk the information that the English
demoiselle had been seen in the house
of a woman who sold milk, Madomoi
selle Rosalie by name, and ho volnn
teered to accompany me to her
dwelling.
It was a poor-looking house, of one
room only, in the same street as the
school; but we found no one there ex
cept au old woman, exceedingly deaf,
who told us, after much difficulty in
rnaking her understand our object, that
Mademoiselle Eosalie was gone some
where to nurse a relative, who was
dangerously ill. She had not had any
cows of her own, and had easily dis
posed of her small business to this old
woman and her daughter. Did the
messieurs want any milk for their fami
lies? No. Well, then, she could not
tell us anything more about Mam’zelle
Rosalie, and. slie knew nofcliing of an
Englishwoman and a little girl.
I turned away, baffled and discour
aged, hut my new friend was not so
quickly depressed. It was impossible,
he maintained, that the English girl
and the child could have left the town
unnoticed. He went with me to all the
omnibus bureaus, where wo made ur
gent inquiries concerning the passen
gers who had quitted Noireau during
the last month. No places had been
taken for Miss Ellen Martineau and '
the child, for there was no such name
in any of the books. But at each bu
reau I was recommended to see tile
drivers upon tlieir return in the even
ing, and I was compelled to give up
the pursuit for the day.
-
CHAPTER XLV.
a second pursuer.
No wonder there was fever in the
town, I thought, as I picked my way
among the heaps of, %tre"6ts. garbage and The refuse
lying ouF'nr tte most
hideous old women I ever saw, wrinkled
over every inch of their skin, blear
eyed, and with eyelids reddened by
smoke, met me at each turn. Sallow
weavers in white caps gazed out at me
from their looms in almost every house,
There was scarcely a child to be seen
about. The whole district, undrained
aud unhealthy, hears the name of the
“Manufactory of Little Angels," from
the number of children who die there.
And this was the place where Olivia
had been spending a very hard aud se
rore winter!
There was going to he a large cattle
„ir tho next day, and all the town was
a. ive. Every inn in the town was,
crowded to overflowing. As I sat at
the window of my cafe, watching the
picturesque groups wlii- h formed in
the streets outside, I heard a vehement
altercation under which going the on in entrance the archway, to my j
was
hotel.
“Grands Dieux!” cried the already j
familiar voice of my landlady, shrill as
the cackling of a lien; “Grands Dieux!
not a single soul from A ille-en-bois
can They rest have here, the neither fever like man nor pest woman there, 1 j
a i
No, no, m’sieur, that is impossible; go
away, you and your beast. There is
room at the Lion d’or. But the gens
d’armes should not let you enter tho
town. We have fever enough of our
own.”
“But my farm is a league from Villo
en-bois,” was the answer, in the slow,
rugged accents of a Norman peasant.
“But I tell you it is impossible,” she
retorted; “I have an Englishman here,
very rich, a milor, and he will not hear
of any person from Ville-en-bow rest
mg in the house. Go away to the Lion
d’or, my good friend, where there are
no English. They are as afraid of tho
fever as of the devil.”
I laughed to myself at my landlady's
ingenious excuses; but after this the
conversation fell into a lower key, and
1 heard no more of it.
I went out late in the evening to
question each of the omnibus-drivers,
but in vain. Whether they were too
busy to give me proper attention, or
too anxious to join the stir and mirth
of the townspeople, they all declared
they knew nothing of any English
woman. As I returned dejectedly voice, to
my inn I heard a lamentable evi
dently English, bemoaning in doubtful
I French. The omnibus from lalaise
: had just come in, and under the lamp
in the entrance of the archway stood a
lady before my hostess, who was volu
blv asserting that there was no room
left in lier house. I hastened to the
assistance of my countrywoman, and
| the light of the lamp falling full upon
her face revealed to me who she was.
“Mrs. Foster!” I exclaimed, almost
shouting her name in my astonishment,
She looked ready to faint with fatigue
and dismay, and laid her hand heavily
on my arm, as if to save herself from
sinking to the ground.
“Have you found her?” she asked,
involnntarily.
“Not a trace of her,” I answered.
Mrs. Foster broke into an hysterical
laugh, which was very quickly followed
by sobs. I had no great difficulty in
persuading the landlady to find some
accommodation for her, and then I re-
tired to my own room to sm > in
peace, and turn over the extraor nary
meeting which had been the last. oici
dent of the day.
It required very little keemugs to
come to the conclusion that the, Fos
ters had obtained their information
concerning Miss Ellen Martineauthere
we had got ours— from Mrs. Wllkin
son; also, that Mrs. Foster had 1< it no
time in following up the clew, fo she
was only twenty-four hours behim me.
She had looked thoroughly aston shed
and dismayed when she saw me t lere,
so she had had no idea that I wi i on
the same track. But nothing cou d be
more convincing than this jo urn pvjjf
hers that neither she nor Fostert fee¬
lieved in Olivias death. i’hat wo as
clear as day. But what explain tion
could I give to myself of those let era.
of Olivia s above all? Was it posable
! that she had caused them to be written
and sent to her husband ? I couldSnot
even admit such a question without a
sharp sense of disappointment in her.
I saw' Mrs. Foster early in the mirn
ing, somewhat as a truce-bearer Lay
meet another on neutral ground. ]>he
was grateful to me for my interposition and
in her behalf the night before; as
I knew Ellen Martineau to be sa.ely
out of tlio way, I was inclined to be
tolerant toward her. 1 assured her,
upon my honor, that I had failed in
discovering any. trace of Olivia m Noi¬
reau, ana i tola tier au l naa learnea
about the bankruptcy of Monsieur Per
ricr and the scattering of the school,,
“But why should you undertake such
a chase?” I asked; “if you and Foster
are satisfied that Olivia is dead, why
should you be running after Ellen Mar
tineau? You show me the papers which
seem to prove her death, and now I
hud you in this remote part of Nor
niandy, evidently in pursuit of her.
AY hat does this mean?”
“lou are doing the samo thing your
self,” she answered.
“ Yes,” I replied, “because I am not
satisfied. But you have proved your
conviction by becoming Bicliard Fos
tor’s second wife. ”
“That is the very point, she said,
shedding a few tears; “as soon as ever
Mrs. Wilkinson described Ellen Mar
tineau to me, when she was talking
about her visitor who had come to
Quire after lier, in that cal) which was
standing at the door the last time you
visited Mr. Foster—and I had no sus
picion lest ho of should it—I grew quite be charged nplghtened with
ever
marrying me while she was alive. bo
I persuaded him to lot me come here
ar *d make sure of it, though the jour
Iie .V costs a great deal, and wo have
ver Y little money to spare. \\ o did not
Know what tricks Olivia might do, and
it made me very miserable to think she
might be still alive, and I in her place,
I could not hut acknowledge to my
self that there was some reason in Mrs.
Foster’s statement of the case.
“There is not the slightest chance of
your finding her,” I remarked.
“Isn’t there ?” she asked with an evil
gleam m her eyes, which I just caught
before she hid her face again m her
handkerchief.
an 7 rate > I aal “> T ou would
nave no power over her un iounU
her. You could^not to lackwtr
^ hj ^
y oa **■ •ster’s CbUv, »»
French laws would reg au
thorny, but you can l .one what
ever, and lie is quite unlit to take this
t° n S journey to claim liei. Really I
( should \° D0 " think sea what your you wisest can plan do; and would 1
j leaving ,e ®° 6° her back alone. and I take am care here of to him, pro
tect her, and I shall stijv until 1 see you
* alrl y out of l > ai e '
CHAPTER XLVI
foktheb afield.
Mrs. Foster did not speak again for
some minutes, but she was evidently
reflecting upon what I had said,
“But what are we to live on?” slie
asked at last; “there is her money lying
; n the bank, and neither she nor Eich
ar j can touch it It must be paid to
personally, or j to identity her order, herself and
6 j ie cannot j )rovo ler
without the papers Richard holds. It
j s aggravating. I am at my wits’ end
a p> al it it.”
“Listen to me,” I said. “Why can
not we come to some arrangement, sup
posing Ellen Martineau proves for to all be
olivia ? It would bo better you
to ma ko some division of lier property
], v mutual agreement. You know best
whether Olivia could insist upon a ju
separation ; but in any other case i
s ] lou ld not Foster agree to receive
half ]ier incomei an ,l leave her free, as
free as ebe can be, with the other half ? j
Surelj Bome mutua i agreement could
i,„ a '■
“He would never do it!” . she ex
claimed, clasping lier hands round her
knees, and swaying to and fro passion
ately, “he never loses any power. She
belongs to him, and he never gives up
anything. He would torment her al
most to death, but ho would never
lier go free. No.no. Yon do not know
him, Doctor Martin.”
“Then we will try to get a divorce,”
I said, looking at her steadily,
“On what grounds?” she asked, look
ing at me as steadily,
I could not and wpuld not enter into
the question.
“There has been no personal cruelty
on Richard’s part toward her,” she re
sumed, with a half-smile. “It’s t; ae I
locked lier up for a few days one •, but
j, e W as in Paris and had nothing to do
vvitii it. Y ou could not prove a single
act of cruelty." slie
Still I did not answer, though
paused and regarded me keenly, had
“\\ e were not married till we
reason to believe her dead,” she con
tinued; “there is no harm in that. If
B he has forged those papers, she is to
blame. We were married openly, be in
our parish church; what could said
against that?”
[TO UZ CO.STINUBI). |
What Sweethearts Generally Do.
“Aurelia, darling?”
“Yes, Arthur.” be
“You know we are soon to raar
ried.”
“Yes.”
“And we should learn to be economi
cal “Yes.” in small things.”
“Hadn't you better turn down the
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STRONC ENDORSEMENT.
Vkazisy, Ga., May 29, 1886.
Mr. W. Fj. Veazey , Greene County, Ga.
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