The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-04-16 00:00:00


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to bring la corn _
proached him, he put out -
"Ask your good man, your bon .theu, to A.. me.
Oh, I suffer! I suffer."
She gathered from Eady that Louis had refused to
take from her hands the remedies she had prepared.
She spoke as soothingly to him as she would have done
to a spoiled child, and soon succeeded in inducing him
to swallow the potion.
She then lightly passed her hands over his face, and
in a few moments saw the look of suffering relax, and
the sallow features sink into their usual state of passive
state of repose. Just before he fell asleep he looked
tenderly in her face, and said—
" You are my good angel, comtesse. Be always
near me—always, and I shall be stronger and happier
for your presence."
Eady at length remarked how pale and worn out
she looked, and insisted that Adrienne should retire to
her own room, while she kept watch beside the sleep-
ing youth. Since she saw that her presence was no
longer needed, the young girl consented to take the
repose of which she stood greatly in need.
The lantern Adrienne carried threw a flickering and
uncertain light before her; it just sufficed to show her
the way she must go, and to render the darkness
beyond more palpabla. As she descended the lower
flight of stairs, she suddenly started and drew back,
for she thought she saw the outline of a heavily-
muffled form standing at its foot.
She flashed the lantern ha that direction, but it was
no longer there, and, with a rapidly boating heart,
Adrienne went on, assuring herself that the shadows
had deceived her. She little dreamed that from their
depths a pair of piercing eyes were fixed upon her;
that noiseless steps tracked her to her very door, and
saw her enter.

When the spy returned, he lightly ascended towards
the upper storey, and, guided by the snoring of Pierre,
soon found his way to the ante-room. A glance at
the s eeping black assured him that he might pass him
with:impunity, and he glided to the half-open door of
the inner chamber.

Eady sat rocking to and fro, with her back towards
the entrance, and the stranger was thus enabled to
survey the room at his leisure.
The eyes of M. Mendon flashed with exultation as
they fell on the face of the sleeping Louis, and he
thought—
"l have fairly won her now, and one more effort
shall surely make her mine. How fair and attractive
she looked by that dim light, as she glided by me
with that half-startled expression on her face! I might
have thought her Louise herself, so marvellous is the re-
semblance between them. I wonder if the priest
uttered all the truth? He said he was the father of
Est( lle Lecour's child, but he only left me to infer that
Adrienne is that child. Suppose she is really the
heiress! I believe she is, and Father Eustace claims
her as his own to make sure of his share of the estate.
No, no; I believe that was the child of Louise who
passed me just now."

As these thoughts passed through his mind, M.
Mendon noiselessly threaded his way to the lower part
of the house. The last words were unconsciously mut-
tered half aloud, as he rapidly approached the private
entrance by which he had made his way into the
house.

A deep, long-drawn sigh seemed to be uttered in
response to his words,and unseen lips breathed "Yes,
yes, yes," close beside his ear.
He was not a superstitious man, but he hurried
from the spot with a strong feeling of thankfulness
at his escape from the old ruin. The door through
which he obtained egress was built in the hall of
one of the lower rooms which had long been disused.
It bad been placed there by his brother, and the
fastenings so contrived that he could admit himself
from without at any hour of the night; for the habits
of Eugene Menden had not been regular, and the an-
noyance betrayed by M. Montreuil when he became
aware of the late hours kept by his son-in-law led to
the construction of this private entrance. Louise,
the gentle and the true, kept from her father the know-
ledge of her husband's frequent absences, although
she knew that his passion for gambling had made
serious inroads in their fortune.
From boyhood M. Mendon had known the secret of
the spring which held the door fastened, and on ap-
proaching it he had exr ected to find the pathway choked
with shrubbery and undergrowth. To his surprise he
found it open, and bearing evident marks of having
been recently cleared. Why this should have been
done be could not decide, but it would evidently be of
great service, in successfully carrying out the enter-
terprise he was about to undertake. He hurried
through the thick woodland, and mounted his horse,
which he had left fastened upon its outskirts.
A wild ride brought him back to Corona in two
hours, and his panting steed was hurriedly put in the
stable, before he sought the presence of Father
Eustace.

The priest was still sitting up, evidently 'An f stato
of expectation, for at the first sound of the footsteps
of his late visitor he arose from his chair and unlocked
his door.

He surveyed 111. Mendon with a scrutinising glance
as he approached the table and threw off his hat. He
said—
"I see from your face that you h.v. n failed.
How is it, my son? Were my suspicions correct ?"
"They were. I have fulfilled my pledge, father. I
made my way into the house, and, as my good fortune
willed it, Louis himself was seized with illness just
before I reached there. They were compelled to have
lights in his room, and by their glimmer I found my
way to his very door."
"And he we roomy there?"
"Really and truly, surrounded by such royal trap-
pings as would be calculated to amuse his fatuous
mind. I have not a doubt that the youth I saw lying
in helpless lethargy upon his couch was Louis of
France."
The priest co dially grasped his hand.
"You have fairly won your reward, my son, and
you shall wear it. To•morrow night we must be ready
to remove this poor lad, for I have certain information
that M. Lecour intends to do the same thing himself.
His emissaries are to be at Bellair at eleven o'clock;
we must be there at nine. His arrangements play ad-
mirably into our hands, for he will doubtless stupify
the poor prince with narcotics, to enable them to re-
move him without disturbance. Thus the most
delicate part of the abduction is provided for before-
hand."
"Do you still insist that Mademoiselle Adrienne
must be left behind? I feel a strange unwillingness to
do so."

" Turth nonsense. It is absolutely necessary that
she shall remain. We can remove Lou's without
the knowledge of it coming to M. Lecour before
we have time to escape with him beyond the chances
of pursuit. But if Adrienne were to become the com-
panion of his flight, he would learn it in a few
moments, for he is too suspicious to lose sight of her
long at such a crisis. Besides, she might object to
coming away with us herself, and we have no time to
waste in persuasion. It is the purpose of M. Lecour
to take her with him to France, for arrangements are
made to receive a lady on the boat which is awaiting
his movements."
Id. Mendon regarded him with surprise. He
asked—
"How do you obtain such accurate information,
father ?"
"The means were placed at my command before
I undertook this enterprise,' he coldly replied, and
the interrogator saw that he did not choose to be more
explic:t.
The plans of the confederates were finally adjusted,
and the two retired to rest a few hours, preparatory
to the labours of the important day which was soon
to dawn la them.
(To be continued.)