The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-01-08 00:00:00

ADRIENNE;

OR,
THE SHADOW OF THE PAST.

[ALL BIGHTS RESEILVEDd

CHAPTER IL

LEFT alone, M. Lecour listened to the sounds made by
the retreating pair till they died away in the distance.
He then carefully fastened the door, surveyed every
portion of the room, and re-arranged the lights in such
a manner as to throw no decided shadows on any
angle. Placing himself beside the table, he again
took up the letter of the abbess, and carefully re-
perused it.
An expi ession of bitter mockery flitted over his.
features as he read again and again, a single sentence,
and he sneered:

" Cleverly expressed, faith ! 'Until her reversion-
ary expectations are realised.' In plain words, till I
am dead and out of the way, they will keep the girl,
in consideration of the rich inheritance she may claim.
Ha! they don't know as much as I do about this
estate, or they would scarcely calculate on the right
of my granddaughter to inherit ;t. It would be a
good trick to let the greedy cormorants keep the girl
under the impression that she is the true heiress, and
hen the evil one claims me, leave behind me the
proof that she has no legal claim on a single acre. I
have half a mind to do so, for it will be a risk to have
this girl here. What can Ido with her? Disgust her
ith life, and make her commit suicide, or take refuge
in her convent again? The last is not a probable
alternative, after her energetic protest against the life
of a nun. The first a little unpleasant to contemplate,
as she really is bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh.
Ugh! I hated her father, I cursed her mother, and
now their child must come to me at last, to become
the so'ace of my declining years. Ha ! ha! a joyful
consolation the daughter of Julien Durand is likely to
become to me—me, accursed as I am among men,
bearing a seared heart and withering brain; mocked
at by friends, haunted by a phantom whose mission
is to avenge the dead, even before I swell their ghastly
ranks. No, no, no; let har dwell amid peteeful, God.
fearing women, even if the monotony of their exis-
tence does eat into her weary soul. Better even
that, than the awful existence she must lead with
me."

He seized a pen, and rapidly wrote:
" Adrienue,—l dare not grant your prayer to come
to me. I have no fitting home in which to receive
you, and my heart is closed to every appeal from your
father's child. He was my eneny—l loathed him; I
hurled my malediction upon the ungrateful daughter
who forsook me for him; and now you, their child,
ask to be taken to my heart!
"It is impossible, for that heart has become a bale-
ful flame of hate, which consumes itself, and leaves
no genial spot on which love can repose. lam a man
blighted by the indulgence of my own passions. See,
I do not throw the blame on others; I know that my
career has been evil, my conduct towards those nearest
to me harsh and cruel. Therefore am I left in my old
age isolated, hopeless, yet not utterly wretched.
"I have my own pursuits; innocent they now are,
Z.-nd I wish to have no further temptation to evil.
Should you come to me, my old propensity would
return; to torment, to abuse the power placed in my
hands is th; irrevocable law of my nature, and I must
obey it.
"Poor child! remain with the good sisters;• they
w;11 he kinder to you than I ever can; they are in-
nocent, they are pure, and you will not be contami-
nated by coming in contact with guilt.
"You cannot brighten me. lam but a blighted
ruin, around which no ivy may twine its clinging
verdure. I can bestow a small endowment upon the
convent, which will secure to you a respectable posi-
tion among its inmates. Beyond that I cannot go,
for my possessions are much over-rated, and the bulk
of m 3 wealth must goto other claimants. It will be
best for your earthly, as Well as your heavenly welfare,
for you to remain in your preiAnt secure and respect-
able asylum. Believe me, that weary as this lot seems
to you, it is far preferable to the future you would
embrace in coming to me; therefore I must lay t pon
you my positive command to remain in your convent.
° ETIENNE LECOUR."
A few lines were then rapidly dashed off in reply
to the superior:
"Madame,—Your letter has been received by me
and perused with much surprise. I have been under
the impression that the child of my deceased daughter
was received as a protege of your own, without refer-
ence to the pension it has been my will to pay you.
That has been withdrawn at my command, for
Adrienne has now reached an age which will enable
her to be of use to you in the school under your
supervision. She is now eighteen, and for two years
past has been been quite capable of earning her own
living by aszisting you; nay, I am well informed
that such has been her employment, sad yet you ask
of me money to defray expenses she has more than
pail by her services,

a oil ask from me authority to retain her with you,
and p'ainly insinuate that such authority will be a
guarantee that my fortune shall eventually be ab-
sorbed in the coffers of your convent. Madame, I j
will reveal to you a secret that may become important 1
to you. My wealth is simply a life interest in a large
lanced estate which was the inheritance of my second
wife Madam Louise Mendon, nee Montreuil. Adrienne
has no claim upon it; the law of Louisiana is rigid
Upon that point, and there are claimants enough to
dispute the succession, if I should be so silly as to
bequeath it to any relation of my own.
"From my savings I may be able to afford a small
endowment for Mademoiselle Durand, but it will only
come to her at my decease. If you choose to do so,
keep her with you; I disclaim all interest in her; or
if you find her intractable, let her take her fate in her
own hands. She has attained an age which will
enable her to provide for herself. The child of Julien
Durand will scarcely repay me for a different course
towards her, for there is rebellion in her blood, and I
do not care to have her near me as a memento of
scenes I would gladly forget.
" I repeat, madame, tharit is my earnest wish that
th's young girl shall remain with you. If possible, in-
duce her to embrace the life'of a reliyieum. You were
once gifted with eloquence; use it, madame, wisely,
gently, but firmly, and convince the wayward child
sv:th whom you have to deal that she must remain
with you.
"I live in a wretched, decaying mansion, which
Iny neighbours have appropriately named Castle
Dismal. I have two old, half-demented servants as
my attendants, and I receive no visitors. Judge,
then, if a young girl could reside with ire and be
contented.
"I use my brush to perpetuate the horrors I have
witnessed, have corn a part in, and the ghastly
evidences of my artistic talent form a gallery as
unique as it would be frightful to the outside world,
had they permission to behold it. But it is sacred to
ni) self; not even the old negress who is my house-
keeper, cook, and housemaid, has ever gained a
glimpse of my treasures, though she avers that the
room in which they are kept is haunted by evil
demons, and she trembles to pass it alone in the twi-
light.
"Pardon me, madame; I grow garrulous with my
Pee, but my life is so lonely that I may allow myseif
the indulgence of writing freely to the only human
being on earth around whom the golden memories of
youth and love yet linger. Madame, does it rift seem a
mockery that I, a grey-haired, callous-hearted reclese,
Should refer to that romance, enacted when we were
both young and silly? You prefered a cloister to the
fatal gift of my affections, and after events proved
that you did well. I alute you, lady superior of a
holy sisterhood, and ask the benefit ot ycur prayers. '
" ETIENNE LIK01111."
When he had finished his letters, M. Lecour arose
and paced his room violently and noisily, as if to lose
in motion the sense of wretchedness that oppressed
him. He paused several times beside the table and
poured brandy from a bottle that stood upon it; this
did not sufficient'y soothe the nervous irritation from '
which he was suffering, and he took from the wall a
Turkish pipe, and filled the bowl with a drug the use
of which was then almost unknown in Europe—it had
Nen sent to him from India by a brother who was a
physician there, with directions for its use.
Soon the smoke of the hatchis began to circle
around the roam, and the faint, sickening odour of the
gum diffused itself through the atmosphere. The
eyes of the smoker assumed a strange, wild glare, and
the pupils (Elated to an unusual size. Fantastic forms
began to flit before his excited vision, which t firtsl
I seemed clothed in light, but these soon gave p ace
o
ottprs of a more fearful character.
M. Lecour continued to smoke on, in the hope that
.the increased influence of the drug would chase these
away, and bring bank the brighter vision. Suddenly
his eyes fell upon a small clock, on the face of which
was a calender that unerringly pointed out the day of
the month:
"The twentieth of January r
(he pipe dropped from his nerveless grasp, and his
face became even more cadaverous than before.
Striking his hand upon his brow, he almost shrieked:
"It is the anniversary of that fatal day when God's
anointed fell beneath the hands of his cruel subjects.
.That awful shape may come again! How could I
forget? Eady ! Pierre! come back—come back and
watch beside me !"
His voice grew strained and harsh with fear, and
he trembled before the unseen terror he la lieved was
approaching him. Regicide, Jacobin, his band was
yet red with the blood shed during that fatal era, and
he knew that this night must prove one of terrible
suffering to himself.
M. Lecour staggered up, aud approached the door
with the half-formed intention of flying through the
of the long corridors, till he reached the house occu-
pied by the negroes ; but his nervous trepidation was
was so great that he could not turn the key in the
lock.
His senses deserted him, and he madly shrieked:
" fla ! I hear it! The demons are at their work
already; they, have fastened me in, that they may
have me at their mercy. Hark! I hear their steps
flitting, flitting through the hall.
"Soon they will be here.
" There! there! they are beside me now! I see
the shadowy procession of the dead whom I helped to
send to the grave. Yes--they are bloody phantoms,
carrying their heads upon their hands, and the writhing
lips mock and gibber at me. Hark! What do they
say
Come with us; you marshalled us to the guil.