The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-05-21 00:00:00

heavy rings that glittered in the light with a golden
sheen.

The hands of the nurse were still engaged in toying
with it, as if she could not be contented unless she
touched something belonging to her precious charge.
The person who o3cupied the position was a wasted,
delicate-looking woman, who wore the garb of a
sister of charity. A large black cap encroached upon
her face, entirely changing its character; yet an acute
observer would have remarked a striking resemblance
between the sharpened profile of thc nurse, and the
delicately chiselled one that lay upon the pillow white
and motionless, as if sculptured from Parian stone.
The doctor came up to the side of the bed before
his entrance was observed by the pre-occupied sister.
She started and looked alarmed as he softly inquired—
" How is our patient now. Sister Cecile In'
"You see how heavily she still sleeps. I begin to
have strange fears. Oh, doctor, will she ever, ever
awake again to health and sound reason? That fear-
ful shock was too much for so delicate a being as she
is.,,

"Oh, she is stronger than you think. I have great
hopes that she will soon be quite restored. If she is
not aroused by a sudden shock, all will be well, I
trust. We must guard against that."
"You are sure you are not deceiving me? Oh,
what should [ do if she were snatched from me now?
The little reason I have left would surely desert me
then:'

"Never fear—never fear: Adrienne will be all right
in a very few hours, I have something of importance
to communicate to you. You can leave your charge a
few momentsand come into the next room with me."
Sister Cecile looked up at him with sudden alarm
in her face, but she resolutely shut her lips till the
door was closed between herself and the sleeping girl.
Then, gasping the doctor's hand with a nervous clutch
that almost pained him, she asked—
"What is it? Any new atrocity on his part? Any
new torture to try me yet more deeply than I have
already been tried ?"
"No, no, poor child; still your apprehensions, for
this time I come as the messenger of good tidings.
Louise, your persecutor lies upon his death-bed; a few
more hours, and all will be over."
She sank upon a chair overpowered, yet incre-
dulous.
"Are you sure of this?" she wildly asked "Yet
you would not mock me, my good, my trusty friend.
Through all my evil fortune you have stood by me,
and my heart thanks and blesses you for it. Tell me
what has happened to—to—that miserable old man?
and who was the bearer of the news ?"
"One who was once tenderly attached to you
and who professes to be your steadfast friend now.
Adolphe Mendon came hither to summon me to the
assistance of M. Lecour, and also to obtain an inter-
view with you, if that is possible."
" How ? does not Adolphe, like all the rest of my
friends, believe me dead?'
"Until of late he did; but by some means he has
obtained a hint of the truth. He says that he recog-
nised your voice the other night when you were
playing. the part of the ghost in the old hall of

Bellair."
A. faint smile Crept to the lips of the listener, and a
singular expression gleamed in her eyes, which at
once betrayed that some chord in that finely organised
nature was jangled out of tune. There was a glance
of fiery exultation and a wild cadence in her voice, as
she said—
"I could not resist the temptation to answer a
question he unconsciously asked aloud, especially as I
hoped the assurance I gave him would lead him to
protect my poor helpless darling. It had not that
effect, however, and but for my assumed character on
the following night, his dagger would have drank the
life-blood of my child. And he is dying—dying!
I thought he was the incarnation of evil, and must
endure for ever."
" Yes,Lecour is dying. At first I refused to go to him,
but I have become more human since I have talked
with you. When Adrienne awakes, and I find all is
well with hrr, then I will go to Bellair to see if my skill
can allay the sufferings of the doomed wretch on
whom I sincerely believe the vengeance of God has
fallen. Adolphe Mendon awaits my return to my study
to reveal to him the truth regarding yourself. There
can no longer be danger in doing so. What shall I say
to him ?"
"Are you sure he can be trusted? and is—is my
persecutor beyond all aid ?"
"I can confidently assure you that he is, for there
is no remedy known to medicine for the deadly virus
he has received into his system. As to Mendon, he
has nothing to gain by treachery toward you, and
therefore I think he may be safely confided in.
Besides, he may be of assistance to you in the asser-
tion of your just rights:'
Louise pointed to the next room, and sadly said—
" No—her rights, not mine. I have none—desire to
have none. lam now and for ever only Sister Cog()
of the holy Order of Charity. Impress on Adolphe
that only to my nearest friends must my continued
existence be divulged. I must remain dead to the
world. Reveal to him all my sad story and then tell
him he may seek me when my child is out of danger."
As Dr. Brunel was leaving the cottage, she arrested
him to ask—
" Have you heard nothing from Victor du Vernay
yet?"
"Not yet, but he will come in good time. I placed
the note you wrote where he will be likely to find it,
or he is no true lover. Of course, when he reaches
Bellair, he will search the room Adrienne was last
known to enter with assiduous care. He must find
your missive; but, at any rate, the business that
brings him to this neighbourhood must lead him to
me, though he is not aware of whom he will find here
awaiting him."
Louise glided back to her post, bent fondly and
apprehensively over the face of the sleeping girl, to
assure herself that she still lived, by feeling the play
of her breath upon her own cheek. With a sigh she
sank back upon her seat, and again commenced her
task of turning the shining hair over her fingers, and
arranging it anew every few minutes, though this was
done with such delicate care as not to disturb the
sleeper.