Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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1 0a0Z000600000000000000 O O o O ILAZAKR 00 o By MARY 0. 0 HARTWELL CATHERWOOD (Datcd' Upon the _Mstery'- Surrounding the 0 o Fat of the Dauphin. Son of Louis 0 O Xv. and Marie Antoinstt ) 1i 00h 0 CoydYt. 1901. by the BOM M COMPUA 0 00000C00 000O 0000000. LCONTINUED.] tainly quartered with them." "What is he like?" "A smooth and easy gentleman." "In a cassock?" "Tell a poor post lieutenant what a cassock is."~ "The long skirted black coat reach- 0 in- to the heels." "Our missionary priests don't wear b it here. He has the bands and broad r hat and g-eneral appearance of a priest, C but his coat isn't very long." "Then he has laid aside the cassock C while traveling through this country." E The prelate from Ghent, no doubt a C common priest, that the lieutenant un- e dertook to dignify, slipped directly out 2 of my mind. Is Mme. Ursule was waiting for me on the gallery with fluted pillars at the front of the house. "M's'r Williams, where is Made leine?" H1er anxiety vibrated through the darkness. "Isn't she here. madame?'" "She has not been seen todfy." We stood in silence, theD Degan tq speak together. "Dut, madameV "3Ps'r Williamus" "I went away early "When I heard from the Pawnees that you had gone off on horseback so early I thought it possible you might have taken her with you." "Madame, how could I do that?" "Of course you wouldn't have done that. But we can't find her. W e've in quired all over La Baye. She left the house when no one saw her. She was never out after nightfall before." b "But. madame, she must be here!" "Oh, m's'r, my hope was that you. r knew where she is-she has followed you. abouti so! The poor child may be s at the bottom of the river!" "She can't be at the bottom of the river!" I retorted. The girls ran out. They were dressed for a dance and drew gauzy scarfs 1 around their anxious ftices. ~ The house had been searched from ground to at- a tic more than once. They were sure r she must be hiding from them. I I remembered the figure that ap- s peared to me on the trail. My heart : stopped. I could not humiliate my i cloud mother by placin'g her before 'C them in the act of tracking me like a ( 11og. I -could not tell any one about it. but asked for Skenedonk. I The Indian had been out on the riverf in a canoe. Ie came silently and stood near me. The book was between 'r us. I had it in the breast of my coat and he had it on his conscience. "Bring out your horse and get me a 1 fresh one," I said. "Where shall I find one?" ~ "Pierre will give you one of ours," said Mine. Ursule. "But you must eat." "I had my supper with the officers ofI the fort. madame. I would have made e a briefer stay if I had known what a had happened on this side of the c river." t "I forgot to tell you. M's'r Williams,- I there is an abbe here from Europe. He c asked for you."1 "I cannot see him tonight" Skenedonk drew near me to speak, 1 brut I was impatient of any dejlay. We - went into the house, and Mine. Ursulef said she would bring a blanket and some food to strap behind my saddle. The girls helped her. There was a hush through the jolly house. The master bustled out of the family room. I saw behind him, standing as he had t stood at Mittau. a priest of fine and sweert presence, waiting for Pierre Grignon to speak the words of intro duction. "It is like seeing France again!" e3: e!:timed the master of the house.1 "A bbe Edgeworth. this is Ms'r Wil liams." "Monsieur," said the abbe to me with perfect courtesy. "believe me. I am glad to see you." "Monsieur." I answered, giving him as brief notice as he had given me in Mittau, yet without rancor-there was no room in me for that-"you have un erringly found the best house in the Illinois territory, and I leave you to. the enjoyment of It." "You are leaving the house, mon sieur?" I "I find I am obliged to make a short fourney." "I have made a long one, monsieur. It may be best to tell you that I come charged with a message for you." I thought of Mmne. d'Angoulemie. The sister who had been muine for a few minutes and from whom this priest had cast me out, declaring that God had smitten the pretender when my eclipse laid me at his feet, remem bered me in .her second e'.ile, perhaps believed in me still. Women put won derful restraints upon themselves. Abbe Edgeworth and I looked stead ily at each other. "I hope Mmne. d'Angouleme is welly' "She is well and is still the comforter] of his majesty's misfortune." "Monsieur the abbe, a message would need to be very urgent to be listened I to tonight. I will give you audiene in the morning, or when I return." We both bowed again. I took Pierre Grignon into the hall for counsel. In the end he rode with me. for we concluded to send Skenedonk with a party along the east shore. Though searching for the lost is an1 experilence old as the world, its poign-I an(-y was new to me. I saw Eagle tangled in the wild oats of the river. I saw her treacherously dealt with by Indians who called themselves at peace. I saw her wandering out and out, mile beyond mile, to undwelt in places and the tender mercy of wolves. We crossed the ferry and took to the trail. Pierre Grignon talking cheer fully. -'Nothing has happened to her, M's'r Williams," he insisted. "No Indian about La PBaye would hurt her, and the child is not so crazy as to hurt her self." It was a starless night, muffled o'er head as the day had been, but without rain or mist. lie had a lantern hang ing at his saddlebow ready to light. In the open lands we rode side by side, but through growths along the Fox first one and then the other led the way. We; found my door unfastened. I remembered for the first time I had no ocke It. Some one..had_b.sen-in he house. A low fre buied In the hilmney. We stirred it and lighted the antern. Feciprints not our own had tried white upon the smooth, dark loor. They polnted to the fireplace and out tgain. They bad been made by a roman's feet. We descended the bill to the river ud tossed our light through every ush, the lantern blinking in the wind. Ve explored the ravine. the li:ght steal ag over v.hite ivirhes that glistened ke alabaster. it was no use to call or namec-. She n.ight be hidden 1 be ind a rock laughing at us. We a surprise her to recover her. S3kenC oak would have traced her where we )st the trail. When w went back to the house, jected with physical weariness, I un trapped the blanket and the food hich Mime. Ursule had sent and rought them to Pierre Grignon. Ie brew the blanket on the settee, laid ut bread and meat on the table and te, both of us blaing ourselves for ending the Indian on the other side f the river. We traced the hard route which I ad followed the day before, and ?ached Green Bay about dawn. Pierre rignon went to bed exhausted. I had me breakfast and waited for Skene onk. He had not returned, but had eant one man back to say there was no lew. The medl was like a passover aten in haste. I could not wait, but et out again. with a pillion which I ad carried uselessly in the night trapped again upon tho' horse for her eat in case I found her. and leaving rord for the Oneida to follow. I had forgotten there was such a erson as Abbe Edgewcrth when he d a horse upon the ferryboat. -You ride early as well as late. May join you?" "I ride on a search which cannot in arest you. monsieur." "You are mistaken. I understand rhat has disturbed the house, and I ant to ride with you." "It will be hard for a horseman ac ustomed to avenues." It will suit me perfectly." It did not suit me at all. but he took ly coldness with entire courtesy. "Have you breakfasted, monsieur?" "I had my usual slice of bread and up of water before rising," he an wered. Again I led on the weary trail to my ouse. Abbe Edgeworth galloped well, ecping beside me where there was )om or riding behind where there wag ot. The air blew soft, and great adow clouds ran in an upper current cross the deepest blueness I had seeni i many a day. The sun showed be ond rows of hills. I bethought myseff to ask the priest he knew anything about Count do haumont. He answered very simply nd directly that he did-that I Might emember Count de Chaumont was aentioned in Mittau. The count, he aid, according to common report, had etired with his daughter and his son 2-law to Ilois, where he was vigor- S usly rebuilding his ruiced chateau of 'haumont. If my mind had been upon the priest should have wondered what he came i Dr. He did not press his message. y "The court is again in exile?" I said c hen we could ride abreast. "At Ghent." "Bellnge- visited me last Septem- z er. He was without a dauphin." "We could supply the deficiency," .bbe Edgeworth pleasantly replied. "With the boy he left in Europe?" "Oh. dear, no! With royal dukes. ?ou observed his majesty could not t ension a helpless Idiot without en- 'j ouraging dauphins. These dauphins re thicker than blackberwies. The x auphin myth has become sc common bat whenever we see a beggar ap- i roaching we say. 'There com'os an- r ther dauphin.' One of them is a fel- , > who calls himself the Duke of a ichemont. He has followers who be eve absolutely in him. Somebody, eing him asleep, declared it was the ace of the dead king." - t I felt stung. remembering the Mar uis dui Plessy's words. "Oh, yes, yes." said Abbe Edgeworth. He has visions, too-half memories, rhen the face of his mother comes ack to him." "What about his scars?" I asked ardily. "Scars! Yes; I am told he has the roper stigmata of the dauphin. He I / / Rhy h~ad been made by a woman's fcet. ras taken out of the Temple prison, a i lying boy being substituted for him :here. We all know the dauphin's hysician died suddenly-some say he as poisoned-and a new -physician ittended the boy who died in the Tem >le. Of course the priest who re ,eived the child's confession should i ive known a dauphin when he saw me. but that's neither here nor there. Ve lived then in surprising times." "Me. d'Angoulemec would recognize im as her brother if she saw him," I tuggested. "I think she is not so open to tokens L at one time. Women's hearts are ender. The Duchess d'Angouleme . :ould never be convinced that her rother died." "tt others, including her uncle, vere cor iaieed' Te Duke of liemuont was not Vhat do you think vourself', M. Wii I think that the muan who is out is inin indite jokeC. ile tickles the wvhole1 w-orld. t1'ipl ave a right to laugh it a man who cannot prove he is what 20 ay he is. Thei~ difi'erence between pretender. anad a usurler is the dif erece between the top of the hill 1 md the bottomu." The morning sun showed the white :nortar rijbs of my hiomestead clean and1 air betwixt hewed logs, and bright ned the inside of the entrance or hall oom. For i saw the door stood-open. [t had been left unfastened, but not : jar. Somaehody was in the house. I told Alb' IEdgeworth we would dis ,ntad t:e our horses a little dis-j ance aw ~lly-miSN nJeu unu Ln ~a >utside anj let n.o enter alone. Ile obligingly sauntured on the hill >verlooking the Fox: I stepped upon he gallery :-and looked in. The swveep of a gray dress showed in . ront of tile settle. Eagle was there. 1 stood stiil. She had put on more wood. Fire rackled in the chimney. I saw and t cemed to have known all night that r he had taken pieces of unbroken Tead and iat left by Pierre Grignon a n my table: that her shoes v-'re clean- s d and drying in 'ront of the fire: that I he must have carried her dress above 9 ontact with the soft ground. When i asked Abbe Edgeworth not t o come In. her dread of strangers in tuenced me less than a desire to pro I ect her from his eyes, haggard and I traggled as she probably was. The in- a tict which made her keep her body ike a temple 1::d not failed under the n trong excitement that drove her out. Vhethcr she slept under a bush or not e it all, or took to the house after Pierre rignon and I left it. she was resting tuietly on the settle before the fire >lace without a stain of mud upon her. CIIAPTER XXIX. AD she cast herself on the set tie exhausted and Ill after es: posure? Should I find her muttering and helpless? Worse han all, had the night made her forget hat she was a cloud mother? I drew my breath with an audible und in the throat. Her dress stirred. t he leaned around the edge of the set le. Eagle de Ferrier, not my cloud t nother, looked at me. Her features vere pinched from exposure, but flood d themselves Instantly with a blush. he snatched her shoes from the earth and drew them on. I was taken with such a trembling hat I held to a gallery post. Suppose this glimpse of herself had een given to me only to be with trawn! I was afraid to speak, and raited. She stood up facing me. "Louis!" "Madame!" "What is the matter, sire?" "Nothing. madame; nothing." "Where is Paul?" I did not know what to do, and I] oked at her completely helpless, for f I told her Paul was dead she might 9 elapse, and evasions must be tem C iorary. "The Indian took him!" she cried. "But the Indian didn't kill him, agle." "How do you know?" "Because Paul came to me." "He came to you? Where?" s "At Fort Stephenson." 9 "Where is my child?" "He is at Fort Stephenson." b "Bring him to me!" "I can't bring him, Eagle." "Then let me go to him." I did not know what to say to her. "And there were Cousin Philippe nd Ernestine lying across the step. I ae been thning all night. Do you . nderstand it?" "Yes, I understand it, Eagle." By the time I had come Into the *ouse her mind leaped forward in com- a rehension. The blanket she had held t n her shoulders fell around her feet. t was a striped gay Indian blanket "You were attacked and the settle 2ent was burned." "But whose house is this?" "This is my house." "Did you bring me to your house?" "I wasn't there." "No, I remember. You were not bere. I saw you the last time at the "When did you come to yourself, ~ 2adame?" "I have been sick, haven't I? But I ye been sitting by this fire nearly all ight trying to understand. I knew I , ras alone, because Cousin Philippe b nd Ernestine- I want Paul!" I looked at the floor and must have ppeared miserable. She passed her iands back over her forehead many tnes as If brushing something away. If he died, tell me." "I held him, Eagle." d "They didn't kill him?" "No."f "Or scalp him?" "The knife never touched him." "But" "It was in battle." r "y child died in battle? How long tave I been ill?" "More than a year, Eagle." "And he died In battle?" "He had a wound In his side. He ms brought into the fort, and I took ~ are of him." She burst out weeping, and laughed .nd wept, the tears running down her ace and wetting her bosom. "y boy! My little son! You held dm! ie died like a man!" I put her on the settle, and all thet loud left her In that tempest of rain. Lfterward I wiped her face with my tandkerchef and she sat erect andu till. It A noise of many birds came from the 0 n avine and winged bodies darted past he door uttering the cries of spring. ni Lbbe Edgeworth sauntered by and she u aw him and was startled. "Who is that?' "A priest." si "When did he'come?" "ie rode here with me this morn- T "Luis," she asked, leaning back, a 'who took care of me?" e "You have been with the Grignons ~ inee you came to the Illinois terri- v "A nI in the Illinois territory ?" "Yes; I found you with the Gri- i, "ihey must he kind p)eople:" "They are; the ('arthi's salt."a "ut who br'oughit me to the Illinois tl erritory? "A family named .Jordan." "Te Indians didn't kill them?" ' "Why nasn't I killed?" "The Indians regarded you with prstition." "Wat have I said and done?" "Nothing. madame, that need giver -On aniy uner.siness." "~ut what did I say ?" she insisted. "You thought you were a cloud nther." A. loud ratother!" She was aston sed and asked, "What is a cloud "You thou zht I was Paul and you vre my cloud mother." "Did I say such a foolish thing as "Don't call it foolish, madame." 'I hope yoa will forget It." I do't want to forget: It." 'But why are you In Illinois terri oy, sire?". I came to find land for the Iroquois. intend to make a state with the "But what of France?" -Oh. Fra:w'e is ov'ersuppiied with nlt who want to make a state of her.. ouis XVIII. has been on the throne 4 :2leen't months, and was recently chased >f f by Napoleon."I mte loyalists suffer thatr' "Evidently." "Sire, what became of Napoleon?" "He was beaten by the allies and out to Elba. Louis XVIII. was rought in with processions. But in bout eleven months Napoleon made a ash across France" "Tell me slowly. You say I have een ill more than a year. I know othing of what has happened." "Napoleon escaped from Elba, made dash across France and incidentally wept the Bourbon oiT the throne. The ist news from Europe shows him athering armies to meet the allies." "Oh, sire, you slould have been "Abbe Edgeworth suggests that 'rance is well supplied with dauphins !so. Turning off dauphins has been pastime at court." "Abbe Edgeworth? You do not wean the priest you saw at 3Mittau?" "Confessor and almoner to his maj ty. The same man." "Is lie here?" "You saw him pass the door." "Why has he come to America?" "I have not inquired." "Why is he here with you?" "Because it pleases him, not me." "Ie brings you some message?" "So he says." "What is it?" "I have not had time to ask." She stood up. As she became more erself and the spirit rushed forward i her face I saw how her beauty had! ,pened. Hoeing corn and washing in ie river do not coarsen well born omen. I know I shou'd feel the reetness of her presence stinging arough me and following me wher er I went in the world. "Call the priest in. sire. I am afraid have hindered the interview." "I did not meet him with my arms en, madame." "But you would have heard what he ad to say if I had not been in your ouse. Why am I in your house?" "You came here." "Was I wandering about by my "Yes, madame." "I thought I must have been walk ig. When I came to myself I was so red and my shoes were muddy. If ou want to see the priest I will go ito another room." "No, I will bring him in 'and let him ive his message in your presence." When Abbe Edgeworth was present .1 to her he slightly raised his eye rows, but expressed no astonishment t meeting her lucid eyes. Nor did I plain. "God has given her back her anses in a night." The position in which she found her alf was trying. Sbe made him a rave courtesy. My house might have een the chateau in which she was rm, so undisturbed was her manner. [r night wandering and mind sick ess were simply put behind us in the ast with her having taken refuge in iy house.gas matters which need not neern Abbe Edgeworth. He did not >nern himself with them, but bent efore her as if he had no doubt of er sanity. I asked her to resume her place on 0 settle. There was a stool for the bbe and one for myself. We could e the river glinting in Its valley and 1 windrows of heights beyond it. .wild bee darted into the room, dron ig, and out again, the sun upon its! ack. "Monsieur," I said to Abbe Edge orth, "I am ready now to hear the essage which you mentioned to me 1st night." "If madame will pardon me," he an ~vered, "I will ask you to take me here we can confer alone." "It is not necessary, monsieur. Mine. e Ferrier knows iny whole story." Bat the priest moved his shoulders. "I followed you in this remote place, lonsiur, that we might talk together 'ithout Interruption, unembarrassed~ y any witness." Me. de Ferrier rose. I put her Into er seat again with authority. "It is my wish, madame, to have at ast oinne witness with Abbe Edge 'orth and myself." "I hope," he pi'otested, "that ma amne will believe thei'e can be no ob ction to her presence. I am simply llowing instructions. I was instruct 1 to deliver my message in p-ivate." "1onsieur," Eagle answered, "I ould gladly withdraw to another "I forbid it, madame," I said to her. "Very well," yielded Abbe Edge orth. He took a folded paper from his bo mn and spoke to me with startling "You think I should address you as.' Lonseigneur, as the dauphin of France inould be addressed?" "I do not press my rights. If I did, onsiur the abbe, you would not have e right to sit in my presence." "Suppose we humor your fancy. I -ill address you as monseigneur'. Let 3 even go a little further and assume it you are known to be the dauphin SFrance by witnesses who have over lost track of you. In that case, onseigneur, would you put your ame to a paper resigning all claim pon the throne?" "Is this your message?" "We have not yet come to the mes "Let us first come to the dauphin Then dauphins are as plentiful as lackberries in France and the court e-er sees a beggar appear without eclaimng, 'Ihere comes another dau bin,' wiy, may I ask, is Abbe Edge 'orth sent so far to seek one?" He smiled. "We are supposing that monseigneur, iwhose presence I have the honor to e, is the true dauphin.' "That being the case, how are we to' ceount for the true dauphin's recep on at Mittau?" "The gross stupidity and many blun e's of agents that the court was blged to employ needi hardly be as umed." "Poor PBellcnger! He has to take buse from both sides in order that we iy be polite to each other." "As mlonseigneur suggests, we' will o go into that matter." Eagle sat as erect as a statue and as I felt an ins.tant's anxiety. Yet she ad heself enmti'ely at command. "We have now arrived at the paper, trust," said tine priest. "The message?' "Oh. no. The paper in which you re ign all claim to the throne of France, .d which may give you the price of prinipality- in this country." "I do not sign any such paper." "Not at all?" "Not at all." "You are determined to h~old to your ights?" "I am determined not to part with ey rights." "Inducements large enough might be fferd" Hie p:aused suggestively. "Te' only man ill France," I said, emlpoeed to treat for abdication of b throne at present is Napoleon Bona Abbe Edgeworth winced. b laughed. "Napoleon Bonaparte will not Ia All Europe is against him. I see v have arrived at the message." ie rose and handed me the paper I helid in his hand. I rose and receivi it and read it standing. It was one brief line: Louis-You are recalled. MARIE THERESE The blood must have rushed over n face. I had a submerged feeling, loo ing cut of it at the priest. "Well, monseigneur?" "It is like her heavenly goodness." "Do you see nothing but her heave ly goodness in it?" "This is the message?" "It is the message I crossed the oces to bring." "With the consent of her uncle?" "Mme. d'Angouleme never express a wish contrary to the wishes of l majesty." "We are, then, to suppose that Lou XVIII. offers me, through you, mo sieur, the opportunity to sign away n rights and, failing that, the opport nity of taking them?" "Supposing you are monseigneur t dauphin, we will let our suppositi< run as far as this." I saw distinctly the position of Lot XVIII. Marquis du Plessy had to me he was a mass of superstition. - I doubt he had behaved, as Belleng said, for the good of the royalist cau Dut the sanction of heaven was not his behavior. Bonaparte was let loo on him like the dragon from the p And Frenchmen, after yawning elevi months or so in the king's august fa< threw up their hats for the dragon. his second exile the inner shadow ai the shadow of age combined again him. He had tasted royalty. It w not as good as he had once thougl Beside him always he saw the face Marie Therese. She never forgot t) hushed mystery of her brother. H silence and obedience to the crow her loyalty to juggling and evasio were more powerful than resistance. A young man, brought suddenly t fore the jaded nation and proclaimi at an opportune moment, might be successful toy. The sore old ki would oil more than the royalist caus and the blessing of heaven would d scend on one who restored the verit ble dauphin. I never have seen the most stup man doubt his power to ride if som body hoists him into the saddle. "Let us go further with our supp sitions,".I said. "Suppose I decline? I heard Mme. de Ferrier gasp. The priest raised his eyebrows. "In that case you will be quite wi Ing to give me a signed paper decli Ing your reasons." "I sign no paper." "Let me suggest that monseigneur not consistent. Ie neither resigns b supposed rights nor will he exerci: them." "I will neither resign them nor e rese them." "This is virtually resigning them." "The abbe will pardon me for sayli [t is not. My rights are min:2, wheth [ use them or not." "Monseigneur understands that o prtunty is a visitor that comes b1 nce." "I understand that the most extrac inary thing has happened today th; will ever go unrecorded in histor One Bourbon offers to give away throne he has lost and another Dou bon refuses it." "ou may well say it will go unr orded in history. Excepting th lady"-the abbe bowed toward Eagle "there Is no witness." "Wise precautions have been taken [ agreed. "This scrap of paper ma mean anything or nothing." "You decline?" he repeated. "I think France is done with tI Bourbons, monsieur the abbe. A fli spectacle they have made of ther selves, cooling their heels, all ovi Europe, waiting for Napoleon's shoe Will I go sneaking and trembling range myself among impotent kini and wrangle over a country that wan none of us? No; I never will! I si where my father slipped. I see whe: the eighteenth Louis slipped. I am man tenlacious beyond belief. You ca: not loose my grip when I take hol, But I never have taken hold, I neve will take hold of my native countr; struggling as she is to throw off hered tary rule!" "You are an American!" said Abl Edgeworth contemptuously. "If France called to me out of net I would fight for her. A lifetime 4 peaceful years I would toss away in minute to die in one achieving batt for her. But she neither calls me n< needs me. A king is not simply appearance-a continuation of hered rary rights!" "Your position is incredible!" sa the priest. @ "I do not belittle the prospect y< open before mec. I see the practic difficulties, but I see well the ma nificence beyond them." "Then why do you hesitate?" "I don't hesitate. A man is Co temptible who stands shivering ai longing outside of what lhe dare not t tempt. I would dare if I longed. B I don't long." "Monseigneur believes there will 1 comuplications?"f "I know my own obstinacy. A me who tried to work me with strings b hind a throne would think he w. struck by ligltning." "Sire," Mine. de Ferrier spoke ot "this Is the hour of your life. Tal your kingdom." "I should have to take it, madame, I got it. My uncle of Provence h nothing to give me. He merely say 'My dear dauphin, if Europe knpc Napoleon down will you kindly ta] hold of a crank which is too heavy i me and turn it for the good of tl Bourbons? We may thus keep t) royal machine in theC family!'" "You have giren no adequate reas< for declining this offer," said the pric: "I will give no reason. I simply C "Is this the explanation that I sh: make to Mmne. d'Angouleme? Thir of the tender sister who says, 'Lou: you are recalled!'" "I do think of her. God bless her!' "Must I tell her that mnonseigne1 planted his feet like one of these wi cattle and wheeled and fled from tV contemplation of a throne?" "You will dress it up In your omi felctous way, monsieur." "What do you wish me to say?" "That I decline. I have not pressi he embarrassing question of why was not recalled long ago. I resera to myself the privilege of declinlx without saying why I decline." "He must be made to change hi mind, monsieur!" Mmne. de Ferrier e: elaimed. "I am not a man that changes h mind every time the clock strikes." I took the padlocked book out of n breast and laid it upon the table. looked at the priest, not at her. Ti padlocked book seemed to have r more to do with the conversation tha ut I -saw-as-one-sees rrom the side of the eye, the scarlet rush of blood and 't the snow whitc rush of pallor which covered her one after the other. The moment was too strenuous. I could 1e not spare her. She had to bear it with d me. She set her clinched hands on her knees. "Sire!" I faced her. The coldest look I ever y 1 is is is se "Louis! You arc a kiwj!" It. saw in her gray eyes repelled me, as Sshe deliberately said: S You are not such a fool!" I stared back as coldly and sternly, A and deliberately answered: st "I am-just-such a fool!" is "Consider how any person who it might be to blame for your decision Df would despise you for it afterward!" ie "A boy in the first flush of his er youth," Abbe Edgeworth said, his fine jaws squared with a grin, "might e throw away a kingdom for some woman who took his fancy and whom e- he could not have, perhaps, unless he ' did throw his kingdom away, and after a he had done it he would hate the k woman. But a young man in his A strength doesn't do such things!" e- "A king who hasn't spirit to be a a- king!" Mme. de Ferrier mocked. I mercilessly faced her down. Id "What Is there about me? Sum me e- up. I am robbed on every side by any one who cares to fleece me. Whenever D- I am about to accomplish anything I fall down as if knocked on the head!" She rose from her seat. "You let yourself be robbed because I- you are princely. You have plainly r- left behind you every weakness of your childhood. Look at him in his strength, Monsieur Abbe! He has is sucked in the vigor of a new country! is The failing power of an old line of e kings is renewed in him! You could not have nourished such a dauphin for . France in your exiled court! Burying in the American soil has developed what you see for yourself-the king!" "He Is a handsome man," Abbe Edgewori quietly admitted. "Oh, let his beauty alone! Look at his manhood-his kinghood!" i"Of what use is his kinghood If he will not exercise iti" r- "He must!" It She turned upon me fiercely. "Have you no ambition?" a"Yes, madame. But there are sev aeral kinds of ambition, as there are rseveral kinds of success. You have to knock people down with each kind if Syou want it acknowledged. As I told -you awhile ago, I am tenacious beyond belief and shall succeed in what I un ndertake." "What are you undertaking?" y"I am not undertaking to mount a throne." "I cannot beleve it! Where is there ea man who would turn from what is e offered you? Consider the life before you in this country. Compare it with the life you are throwing away." She ~ joined her hands. "Sire, the men of Smy house who fought for the kings of yours plead through me that you will take your inheritance." eI kept my eyes on Abbe Edgeworth. a He considered the padlocked book as aan object directly in his line of vision. Its wooden covers and small metal ~padlock attracted the secondary atten tion we bestow on trifles when. we are at great issues. I answered her. "The men of your house-and the women of your house, madame--can d not dictate what kings of my house should do in this day." "Well as you appear to know him, emadame," said Abbe Edgeworth, "and ~loyally as you urge him, your efforts n are wasted." -She next accused me. "You hesitate on account of the In ddians!" "If there were no Indians in Amer lea I should do just as I am doing." i"All men," the abbe note'd, "hold in contempt a man who will not grasp power when he can." "Why should I grasp power? I have . it in myself. I am using it." d "sing it to ruin yourself!" she cried. t- "Monseigneur!" The abbe rose. We t stood eye to eye. "I was at the side of the king your 'father upon the scaffold. My hand held to his lips the crucifix of our Lord Jesus Christ. In his death no word of bitterness escaped him. True son of St. Louis, he supremely loved France. Upon you he laid in junction to leave to God aline the pun t Ishment of regicides and to devote your life to the welfare of all French men. Monseigneur, are you deaf to fIthis call of sacred duty? The voice of your father from the scaffold, in this hour when the fortunes of your house are lowest, bids you take your right Iful place and rid your people of the usurper who grinds France and Europe into the blood stained earth!" I wheeled and walked across the floor from Abbe Edgeworth and turned again and faced him. t "Monsieur, you have ptadr through me. If anythipg in the uni verse could move me from my position, 1what you have said would do it. But my father's blood cries through me to day: 'Shall the son of Louis XVI. be ,forced down the unwilling throats of his countrymen by foreign bayonets Russians, Germans, English? Shall 1r the dauphin of France be hoisted to lplace by the alien?' My father would 1forbid It. You appeal to my family love. I bear about with me every where the pictured faces of my fam ily. The father whose name you in oe is always close to my heart. That royal duchess whom you are privileged to see daily, monsieur, and I never, is Sso dear and sacred to me that I think .of her with a prayer. But my life is here. Monsieur, in this new world no aman can say to me 'Come' or 'Go.' I am as free as the Indilan. But the pre tender to the throne of France, the spuppet of Russia, of England, of the enemies of my country, a slave to pol icy and intrigue, a chained wanderer Rout Europe! Oh. my God, to be such a pretender, gasping for air, for light, as I gasped at Ste. Pelagie! Oh, let me be a free man-a free man!" er-a aid churchman whisnered nyer and over: "My royal son!" My arms dropped relaxed. There was another reason. I did not ive it. I would not give it We heard the spring wind following the river channel, and a far faint call hat I knew so well-the triangular vild flock in the upper air, flying iorth. "Honk! Honk!" It was the jubilant ry of freedom! "Madame," said Abbe Edgeworth, esting Lhis head on his hands, "I have ecn many stubborn Bourbons, but he s the most obstinate of them all. We io not make as much impression oik im as that little padlocked book." Her terrified eyes darted at him and aid their panic. "Monsieur Abbe," she exclaimed piercingly, "tell him no woman will love him for throwing away a king rom!" The priest began once more. "You will not resign your rights?" "You will not exercise them?" "No." "If I postpone my departure from today until tomorrow or next week or next month, is there any possibility of our reconsidering this decision?" "No." "Monseigneur, must I leave you with this answer?" "Your staying cannot alter it, Mon sieur Abbe." "You understand this ends all over tures from France?" "I understand." "Is there nothing that you would ask?" "I would ask Mme. d'Augouleme to remember me." He came forward like a courtier, lift ed my hand to his lips and kissed it "With your permission, monseigneur, I will now retire and ride slowly back along the river until you overtake me. I should like to have some time for solitary thought" "You have my permission, Monsieur Abbe." He bowed to Mme. de Ferrier, and so moving to the door he bowed again to me and took his leave. His horse's impatient start and his remonstrance as he mounted- came plainly to our ears. The regular beat of hoofs upon the sward followed, then an alternating tap, tap of horse's feet diminished down the trail. Eagle and I avoided looking at each other. A bird inquired through the' door with inquisitive chirp and was away. Volcanoes and whirlwinds, fire and all force held themselves condensed and quiescent In the still room. I moved first, laying Marie Therese's message on the padlocked book. Stand ing with folded arms I faced Eagle, and she as stonily faced me. It was a stare of unspeakable love that counts a thousand-years as a day. She shuddered from head to foot. Thus a soul might ripple in passing from its body. _ "I am not worth a kingdom!" her voice wailed through the room. I opened my arms and took her. Vol anoes and whirlwinds, fire and all force were under our feet We trod them breast to breast She held my head between her hands. The tears streamed down her face. "Louis! You are a king! You are a king!" TH~E END. British ComposItions. A teacher .of composition in a Lon don private school has been trying tho experiment of making her pupils write anything they like about a given sub ject n a given .time, generally about ftve minutes. One of the subjects was-"Wind," and bere is one of the gnswers: "There are four winds, north, east, south and 'rest, buf sometimes two of these blow at the same time, and then we get a S. W. or N. E. wind." Another was at least topical: "Wind is an abominable ele ment. It blows off people's hats and uproos trees. But it isvery useful for yacht races." The subject "3am" was equally In spiring. "Jam is to be found in almost every house," wrote some one, "and some people eat it at every meal. Some ams are sticky." Another subject that provoked the same simple directness was "Ireland." More eloquent than the eloquence of a whole Gaelic league was the delightful sentence, "The Irish were conquered by the British in days f old and have been annoyed about It ever since." The Cakes Came Back. We have all known the woman who will turna store inside out for a reel of cotton and come out empty handed at last because the .cotton is not quite the shade she wanted, but as a shock ng example she must take second place to the woman who called the oth er day at a baker's for a certain kind of ke. The cakes were not quite ready, and the obliging baker promised to send them as soon as they were cooked. Half an hour afterward the baker's lit tle daughter took the dime's worth of cakes around to the house, several block away, and the lady herself came to the door. "Tell your father," she said, "that the lady I expected Is not comning to dinner, so that I will not keep the cakes, thank you."-Kansas City Inde pendent French Gallantry. During the Franco-German war, when many French prisoners were at Iastat, the Countess Zeppelin was "like a real mother to, them." Every morning, said Chap!atln Guers, she came with cart loads of linen, clothing, medicine and other stores, and as she divided them among the men she had a kind word for each. One day after distriluting all she. bad brought she stopped before a sub altern just deprived of a limb. "Ah, my poor friend," said she, "there is nothing left for you." "Madame," replied the, soldier, "a smile from you will content me." Here was French gallantry cropping out amid the most horrible surround ings. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ P'oor- Conditions. "Ask papa tonight." suggests the gen tle girl to her adorer. "Hie Is In such a good humor because he got the better of some man in a business transaction today." The adorer shakes his bead doubt "I believe i'd better not," he sighs "I am the man he got the better of, and he would be sure to say that he couldn't let his daughter marry a man so unsuccessful."-Judge. Tells Bow. "And aren't you married yet?' "Well, well! I thought you were en gaged to a certain young lady In Ger oantown?" "No; I was engaged to an uncertain young cdy, and that's why I'm not STATE OF Clarendon County. COURT OF COMMON PLEAS. Esther L. Moise, PiLintiff, against Eliza Jones. Alice Taylor, Fannie Jones, Robert Jones, Ellerbe Jones. sometimes called Eddie Jones, Benjamin i. Jones, Jalrnt' Mont rotuery, Emma Montgo m. ery, Thomas Montgomery, Janm' s Montgomery, Jr., Jesse Moizt gomiery. Hugh Montgomery, Mary Monta-omery,. Malvinia Jones, sometimues called Molly Jones, Junius Jones. sometimes called Isaac Jones, Azilee Jon-s. Sabine Jones. Leila Jones, John Francis, Isaac Frances, Eliza Francis, Toney Taylor, Eliza Taylor. Mary Alice Taylor, Thomas Taylor, McLeod-Wilkins King Company, Marion Moise, J. W. McLeod, D. W. Alderman & Sons Company, John S. Cole and J. D. Blanding, Defendants. Decree. UNDER AND BY VIRTUE OF A Judgment Order of the Court of Com mon Pleas, in the above stated ae tion. to mue directed, bearing date October 31, 1003, I will sell at publie lic auction, for eash, to the hight.s, bidder, at Clarendon Court House. at Manning, in said county, within the legat hours for judicial sales, on im day, the 4th day of January, 1904, being salesday, the following Ie scribed real estate: "All that tract of land in Clareni don County, in said State, contain ing two hundred and nine acres, more or less, bounded' on the north - by laud of R. M. Montgomery; east, by land of Gordon & Brother, or Paul Gordon; south, by land of 11 F ram Seymour, and west, by land of David Shaw. The said land being more fully described in the Deed of Conveyance thereof by E. W. Moise to Isaac Jones." Purchaser to pay for papers. J. ELBERT DAVIS, Sheriff Clarendon County. Manning, S. C., December 7, 1903. Indigestion Causes Catarrh of the Stomach. For many years it has been supposed th*t Catarrh of the Stomach caused indigestion and dyspepsia, but the truth is exactly the opposite. Indigestion causes catarrh. Re peated attacks of Indigestion inflames the mucous membranes lining the stomach and exposes the nerves of thestomach, thus caus ing tlio glands to secrete mucin Instead of the jui~bkof natural digestion. This Is called Cataz'r the Stomach. Kodol Dyspe ure relieves all Inflammation of the m membranes lining the stomach. 'protects thed nerves, and cures bad breath, sour risings. a sense of fullness after eating. indigestion, dyspepsia and all stomach troubles. Kodol Digests What You Eat Make the Stomach Sweet. Bottles only. Regular size. $1.00. holding 2% time the tinal size. which sells for 50 enat& Prepared by L 0. DoWIT & CO., ChagO a16 The R. B. Loryea Drug Store. COME TO THE Mouzon Grocery. ~ EARLY JUNE PEAS, FANCY SWEET CORN, BARTLETTE PEARS, CALIFORNIA PEACH88~S PINEAPPLES, TOMATOES, BEANS, Etc. All kinds of Flavorings, Candies, Crackers of all kinds, and fresh. BUCKWHE AT, PANCAKE FLOUR, Gatsups, Pickles, Mince MeaLt, _very coice Apples in quart- canms, Tapioca, Vermicelli, Postum Cereal, Cigars and'I'obacco. The best of Groceries, and Vegeta bles of every variety. The finest grades of Tea and Coffee. - Housekeepers, give ine a triaLl amid I will please yon. P. B. MOUZON. GO TO R, M, Dean's Shop For the best Repair Work on Wagons Buggies, Carts, etc. Eerehoein.g a Specialty. You can get an allround job of first class work on Horseshoeing for 80 ets. See me and get your work done first lass and cheap. C. JACKiSON, Manning, S. C. The Times DOES NEAT Job Printing. G1VE US A TRIAL Trmr. TAnre. No. 7, In effect Sunday, Jan. 15, 1902. Between Sumter and Camden. Mixed-Daily except Sunday. :outhbound. Northbond No. 69. No. 71. No 70. No. 68. P M A M A M P IL 6 25 9 45 Le.. Sumiter..Ar 9 00 .5 45 6 27 9 47 N. W. Jnnetu 8 58 5 43 6 47 10 07 ...Dalzell... 8 25 5 13 7 05 10 17 . ..Borden... 8 00 4 58 7 25 10 35 :.Rlemb~erts . 7 40 4 43 - 7 35 10 40 .. Ellerbee .. 7 30 4 '! 750 1105 Soly Jnnetn 710 425 8 00 1115 Ar..Camden..Le 700 4 15 (S C & G Ex Depot) PM PM AM P.M Between Wilson's Mill and Samter. Southbound. Northbound. No. 73. Daily exce pt Sun day No. 72 P M Stations P' M 3 00 Le.....Smnter..Ar 11 45 3 03 ...N WJunction... 114A 317 .........Tmndal........ 11 0 3 30.........Packsvilie.......10 45 405..........ilver.........10 20 ....... Millard ........ ~ lj, 5 00........Summerton ... 95 5 45..........Davis.........9 00 6 00 ........Jordan ....... . 17 6 45 Ar.... ilson's Mills..L 8 3-: PM-1 Between Millard and St. Paul. Daily except Souday. Southbound. Northbound. No. 73. No. 75. .No. 72. No 74 P M A M stations A M P' M 415 9 30 Le Millard Ar 10 00 4 -1" 4 20 .9 40 Ar St. Pul Le 9 50 4t3t P M A M A M l' M THOS. WILSON. Preside-nL. Rrlg ur Job Work to The imues office,