The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-05-10 00:00:00

BY FORTUNE DU BOISGOBEY

Translated from the French.

CHAPTER XIX.

AT this moment Binos appeared in tne alley and
signalled for Frenuse and his companion to ap-
proach. They were but a few yards from the spot,
and advanced.

Presently Freneuse heard Sophie Cornu's harsh
voice exclaiming: " What! You here, Madame
Blanchelaine ! May my house be burnt down if I
expected to meet you?
" Who can the stupid woman be calling to now
thought Freneuse.
The cypress trees hid the person to whom she
had spoken, and the name of Blanchelaine was un-
known to Freneuse. It enraged him that Binos had
picked up with an old gossip who would not restrain
her tongue even at this sacred spot; and he made
up his mind to get rid of her as soon as possible.
However, he advanced; and Binos, who had
Posted himself at the entrance of the walk, pointed
to a stony mound already surrounded by a neat
wooden fencing, doubtless at the instance of the
generous Sophie.
Two feet from this enclosure gaped a newly
oPened, < grave a little further another, and
another. There were about a dozen in a line, ready
to receive the day's consignment of dead.
It was a distressing sight, and Freneuse did all he
could to hide it from Pia.

The poor little thing was very white, but had
sufficient strength to reach her sister's grave, then
kneel, and fix in the earth the little cross she had
purchased at the gates. She clasped her hands and
began to pray, her head resting against the pali-
sade.

Freneuse, not to disturb her, quietly retired into
the alley where he had left the man with the
flowers.
"Help me to carry them," said he to Binos ; "I
don't want this porter to disturb Pia."
"Certainly; I will take them all myself," replied
Binos. "But Sophie has been robbed. The
gardener she paid yesterday to decorate the grave
has not done it."

" Your .§-4.Kie is unbearable! We have not come
to the cemetery to babble as if we were in a shop.
And who is that woman she is talking to ? "
"I don't know. All I can tell you is she is dressed
like a princess. La Cornu has some grand acquaint-
ances ! Here, porter, come forward and hand me
the pots!"
Freneuse, having moved backwards to allow Binos
to approach, was standing close to the cypress,
behind which the two women were talking, and he
caught the following words uttered in a clear voice:
"It is true, then, what I have heard, ray good
Madame Cornu, one of your lodgers has been taken
to the Morgue? Do you recollect the last time you
came to consult me, I told you that some misfortune
would happen? It is fortunate that it has not
fallen upon you. I felt uneasy, and went to see
You. They told me you were at St. Ouen, and I
was so anxious that I took a cab to catch you, and
arrived here first."

"I came man omnibus," responded Mistress
Cornu. "Bat how did you know where the girl
was buried r,

"They told me her name, and I enquired of the
keeper, who showed me the place. But I see you are
not alone."

'No; I met an acquaintance at the gates—that
skinny fellow with the beard like a goat; he told
me the day before yesterday that the girl was at the
Morgue."
"Did that little girl who is praying over the
grave come with him F
"Yes, and another man—a painter—where has he
gone ?"

"A painter! Ah ! the child has an Italian dress;
no doubt she is a model."
"As you say, Madame Blanchelaine. She is the
dead girl's sister."
"Her sister—impossible !" cried Madame Blanche.
laine."
"But she is. Her name is Astrodi, the same as
the other. and she's' so much like her one would
take her for Bianca."
"ROW strange !"
F'reneuse had not missed a word of this dialoguo,
Which, however, did [not inform him as to who
Sophie's friend could be ; but feeling astonished she
Should take so much interest in Bianca's death, he
thought he should like to see her face, so he quietly
moved up the alley, and glided between two trees sq
as to be on a line with the women, though som
Daces from them.
Pia was still praying, whilst Binos was taking a
deal of trouble to pass the flower pots through the
bars of the wooden fencing.
Freneuse beheld an elegantly dressed person
turned towards him, and he fancied at first he knew
her. He saw she noticed him and guessed she was
asking his name of Mlle. Sophie.
Suddenly an idea struck him.
"That is the woman I saw at the Porte Saint
Martin when the 'Chevalier du Brouillard' was
performed."

ThiS—un—expected encounter-- caused Freneuse much
Perplexity. For some days he had not thought
about the crime in the omnibus; and only just now
had been promulgating to himself excellent reasons
for believing Binos' suspicions chimerical, and
Bianca Astrodi's death quite natural.
thßut now all his suspicions returned. "Why is
is woman here at Bianca's grave? The explana-
tions given to Sophie to account for her-presence
are merely pretexts invented on the spur of the
moment. Why, too, did she exclaim 'impossible'
when informed that the girl praying was Bianca's
Sister?"
These momentaiy reflections caused Freneuse to
Consider how he ought to act. Should he accost
this person and interrogate her? What right had
he to do so? He could bring no proof against her,
and she would be justified in not answering him.
Besides, a scene close to Pia—who would see and
hear everything—would be sufficient to prostrate
the poor child, whose sensibilities were already ova--
excited. Would it not be better to cpnceal his sus-
picions, and observe the woman's conduct while
appearing indifferent?
"I can ascertain where she lives and who she is
fret'? Cornu," thought he, "and I need not make
the inquiry myself, for Binos will be only too glad
to ask it for me."
This reasoning decided him to do nothing. He
managed to approach the two women, who continued
talking, and, although they spoke in lower tones, he
overheard this sentence uttered by the unknown
one—

"Since you are in company, I will leave you, but
We shall see each other again in the course of the
day."
"I will call upon you," answered the lodging
house keeper. "I have plenty to tell you, and
I have not had a consultation for a long time."
"I am quite at your service, dear Sophie—only
come alone ! " And bending her head to Sophie's
ear, she added another recommendation. which
Freneuse did not hear, but which he imagined
might be—
"Do not give my address to that gentleman."
Upon which the two friends shook hands in Eng-
lish style, and the strange person left without
appearing to notice that two men had been observing
her.
For Dines' observation had also been attracted;
and he was busy with conjectures about her, deter-
mining to question Sophiefor information on his own
account.
By this time Pia had finished her prayers, and had
risen weeping bitterly. She remained for several
Minutes leaning on the palisade, her eyes fixed, upon
the earth that covered her sister's body. Then she
Moved towards Freneuse.
Her tears were checked, and her pate face assumed
ail expression her friend had not seen in it before.
"Thank you," said she in a steady voice. "Thank
-you and farewell ! "
"'How farewell ?" cried Freneuse. "You are not
going -without me. The cab will take us back to the
Place Pigalle. You shall breakfast at the studio,
and we will afterwards resume the sitting inter-
rupted yesterday."
No, I shall not sit again."
Preneuse was about to make an exclamation, when
he remembered their proximity to Bianca's grave,
and that it was not the moment to argue with a
highly excited child, who, doubtless, would soon
Change her mind.
"Very well," said he. "You al- ye a holiday
to-day. You have been sorely and it is only
right you should rest a little. I wait until your
grief is more subdued, but you w et me take you
'°!ke You des Fosse's Saint Ber d."
~.0 . 11 must come to'the Rue des Abbesses," said
Vile Cornulo fetch her themunperceived ;
" she ought
t to _ her sister's goods and papers.
I don't wan
keep them."
"It is not necessary
calmly. "I ask for the girl,
rt]ia'am," answered
,_
. r nothing that belonged to her.'
"If you don't come for them I shall return them
all the same. I know
now where you lodge, and I
shall send them to You; but now there's nothing
more to do here I'm
.just going
down
Ouen-road to scold that rogue of the Saint
took my money and never sent so a gardener who.
much as a pot of
Wallflowers . I'm off."
"Not without me, Mademoiselle," cried .Binos.;
"I mean to stick to you."
He offered her his arm, which she accepted,
grumbling at the same time something which was
'certainly not a compliment
tip cast one last look at the grave where Billow
A!*4 planted the Rowers her friend had bought, and
descended into the alley. -
" I shall make her confess' presently," thought
Freneuse, taking his place beside her.
i.;ilae walked with downcast eyes, and persisted in
-4-write,
Prepense determined to rouse her into speaking,
and when out of the cypress alley he said gently—
", Little one you pain me extremely."
asked the child, not daring to look at
&um,
you. I know you are much grieved and
uqUire rest for a few days: but why do you refuse

to come back to my studio? Have you any reason
to complain of me?"
" Nc, Monsieur Paul, I have received nothing but
kindness from you.
"You owe me no gratitude, my child. How
could I fail to be interested in you all alone in the
world as I once thought, and find to be but too true?
Why desert me thus? I have not deserved it.
Tell me have I wounded your feelings in any way
without knowing it?"
Pia turned away her face to try and hide her
tears.

"There now, you are crying again. I have
caused you pain involuntarily. Tell me what I
have done that I may not make matters worse."
" Nothing, M. Paul. You have always been kind
to me, who am only a poor girl. I should perhapa
have died of want if you had not met me in the
street. I was never so happy before I knew you,
and I never shall be again."
"Why, then, do you wish to leave me ? "
"Because I must."
"You are talking foolishly. Why must you?
"I want to go back to Subiaco."
"What will you do at Subiaco ? Do you expect
to sit to the artists who go there in the summer?
You will not be able to earn your bread. Among
the mountains all the women are so beautiful. The
painters are puzzled to choose between them."
"No, M. Paul, I shall never sit again for anyone.
I shall resume my former work, and take care of
people's goats."
"Pia, you must be mad; if your mother were still
there I could understand this wild idea; but you
have not a single relation in that country, as you
have often told me."
"And here no one cares any longer for me."
"You forget me, it appears. Listen, Pia, it is
cruel of you to speak in this way and if I did not
know you as I do I should think you very heartless.
I have always treated you as a friend, and have
given you a thousand proofs of esteem and affection.
Yet you tell me plainly you will not sit any more
to me! Really, I cannot understand you. I might
remind you that your departure will cause me the
-eatest inconvenience ; for I shall not be able to

I gr 6,
I finish

Pia bu-rs't out sobbing. -Freneuse continued with
real emotion:

"I must tell you it is not only thy model I shall
regret losing if you persist in your resolve. For I
am truly attached to you, and shall feel a distaste
for my studio if you do not return to it."
"I cannot! I cannot !" said the child in a stifled
voice. "I would, but it is more than I can bear.
You saw I utterly broke down yesterday."
Freneuse now saw through the whole mystery.
The truth he had begun to suspect was made clear.
It was now his turn to keep silence.
He endeavoured anxiously to find some means of
calming Pia without pledging himself to close his
studio against Mademoiselle Paulet. To do him
justice, it mast be owned he thought far less of
missing the exhibition than of the touching grief of
the poor Italian committed to a hopeless love.
They walked along in silence..
_ _ _

BinOs' long legs iiad carried him on before, and
Sophie Comu panted beside him.
"Will you consent to sit for me elsewhere than
in my studio ?" asked Freneuse suddenly.
Pia shook her head sadly.
"In some place where no one else should come, and
you should sit for six hours a day? I am behind
hand, and it will need long sittings to be ready for
the opening of the Salon," added he, smiling encour-
agingly.
"If I thought it possible," murmured the girl.
"And you will not fly away to the country of
orange trees," continued Freneuse, gaily. "I ask
no more. Only promise that you will not leave
without letting me see you and that you will wait
in your little room in the Rue Fosses Saint Ber-
nard."

"I promise you on the soul of my sister," replied
Pia, raising her large eyes full of tears to his face.
"That's right. I will now dismiss Binos and this
old woman, and you s all go with me to my door—
my door only—and then the cab shall take you
home."

Freneuse had conceived an idea which Pia little
guessed, but she wept no longer.
(To be continued.)