, 1859-12-02
STRANGE RETR1BUTIoN.

Henri Du Barre, young French artist, became
enamored of the only daughter Of q well-to-do
aubergste in the town Of Circassone, in the
South Of France. Lucille Montaigne had beauty
and money, and Henri Du Barre had wit and
talent; but these latter were no fair equivalent for
the former in the eyes Of the purse-proud father,
who declared that no daughter Of his should mar
~ poor man, though he were blessed with the
wisdom Of Solomon.
Now Lucille loved Henri-at least she told him
so-but she was too prudent to elope with him
and risk disinheritance; for, after all, what Is
love without money! poverty coming in at the
door would send it flying through the window.
Poor Henri was in despair. He really did love
Lucille, whether she did him or not-loved her
madly; and his was one Of those dark fiery ma
lures which makes love wild terrible passion.
How much money was necessary to make him
her equal in the eyes Of her worthy fatherf The
aubergste named the sum. It was large, and
Henri sighed, and felt more despair in his heart
than ever. Suddenly he frightened up with the
recollection that he had youth and genius, and
that in some large city, Paris, perhaps, where
the latter was appreciated, he might acquire both
fortune and fame.
But would Lucille wait u Well, Lucille was
willing to wait awhie-for Just then, as she ad-
mtted herself she could think Of no one she liked
better than the poor artist But everything
earthly must have limit, and the fair cOquette
thought her patience ought not to extend beyond
a year.
A year is very short time for man to acquire
fame and fortune, with the latter depending on
the former; but Henri was young, and youth is
sanguine, and at all events he would make the
trial, hoping great things, and knowing he could
do no worse than fall
So he finished his engagements hurricdly, de.
clined any new ones, sold few pictur On hand
for moderate sum, gathered together bis sCai'ty
effects, bade his friends and Lucille adieu, and,
with a hopeful but heavy heart, set off for the
great metropolis Of France.
It was long long journey from Circassone to
Paris in the SOW conveyance Of the period when
Henri Du Barre made Il; and It was nearly two
weeks before he reached the gay capital And
then began his struggles with poverty; which
clung to him in spite Of his hopes, his exertions
and his prayers for six weary months, when he
gave up in despair; and secretly left the city to
beg his way back to Circassone, see his Lucille
once more bid her an eternal adieu, and end life
no longer Of any value to its possessOr.
Henri Du Barre set out from Paris afOOt and
alone, depending solely upon the charity Of the
French peasants for food and lodging. He had
six sous in his pocket when he started, and these
he invested in deadly poison, which he carried
|
yond what nature might reasonably bear, but
which Il was his hope to retain till he had again
seen Lucille.
In this manner he reached and passed through
Lyons, foot sore, ragged and disheartened-an
object indeed Of commisseration. Twenty
leagues beyond Lyons, in passing through long,
dark, lonely wood, be met Jew, carrying Q
heavy pack on his back. The poor artist asked
the Israelte for charity; his appeal vas answered
with few coins for which he thanked the giver,
and offered to carry his pack.
"0h, not is nothing-it Is nothing few
old clothes onlyi" returned the jew huTriedly-
90 hurriedly, and with such evident uneasness,
In fact Is to awaken suspicion in the mind Of
the young artist that Il contained something Of
great value. ---,
Then L was that q wild, vague, underlined desire
to possess Il first took possession Of the man who
was now going home TO die wretchedly, but
whom two thousand francs might yet bless with
life and happiness. When the mind Of man takes
q highly criminal bent 1t seems as If some evil
demon whispers the most plausible reason for
wicked course to happiness.
Henri Du Barre, who had never before thought
Of harming human being, now glanced fnrtively
and almost shudderingly around him, with dark
and wicked thought in his brain, that IL this old
man was dead, and he the possessor Of his pack,
be might yet have bright and glorious future.
It was dreary, dismal spot in the thick wood
where they both stood, and no human eye save
theirs was looking upon the scene. Why should
this old man be numbered with wealth, which
could not bring him one 1.-THE Of the joy that it
might him who coveted It's possessioni He could
not live many years, that old man, at most and
he might die at any minute, and his valuable
effects become the Inheritance Of strangers.
What mattered few years, more or less to him
IA wandering and despised old Jewi And
why shonld he, poor miserable artist, hesitate
between the Jews life and his own? Were not
all living creatures bound by the inner law Of
their being to act in scidefvnce, even to the TAX
ing Of life when necessary to sustain their own
And would he not die should the Jew live; and
would he not live should the Jew dief And
even should the secret be discovered, would it
be worse than death at lastl He had brought
poison for himself and why should not another
take Il for his salvationI-in which event he
would have the means 10 procure more, and
could always as now, carry his life In his hands.
The Jew had bidden him good day, and was
trudging along at . slow and steady pace, while
these wild, wicked thoughts were coursing
through the brain OF the latter, with all the plau
sibility Of the truth.
Suddenly the Jew stopped, produced little
flask, and raised il TO his lips. AhI that flask |
The devil was tempting young Du Barre to crime,
and here was the opportunity.
"My good friend, called the artist 10 the jew,
i am very hint; viii you give me few drops
Of that Winef"
~ viii give you half" said the IsrAslite,
halting.
The artist advanced tremulCusly, produced the
poison, and concealed Il In his hand as he ap-
preached his victim, and, under pretence Of wip-
ing the mouth Of the flask, dropped Il In. Then
he pretended 10 drink, and handed Il back with
thanks, begging the Jew to drink his health at
the final parting. Isaac complied, and they sep
aFated, each going different way.
As soon a. Henri was out Of sight Of the Is-
Faelite, he entered the wood, and returned in an
oll;or,a d;rackion ,,nNil ha came l., a;OhA 0f ha