The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1866-07-01

calm as II ne were at vesperssln his
own church?''
The priest smiled. .sYou forget,
my son, that virtue is always tranquil
in the hour of trial; and you forget,
too, very important difference in
our situations.
'tBy no means" said the Count;
II am aware that I am chilling in the
water, while you ore apparently at
ease, in cloak, against which I see
tho water strike in vain. I would sug-
gest to you that the virtue you speak
of could give n nobler proof of its
efficacy, were we to change places for
an hour"
NAY, my son, that idea is selfish
and unworthy. I impose q penance
upon you for having entertained it,
and enjoin you to walk for one hour,
fasting, upon the ensuing morning."
'! pray that I may do so," said De
Burigny; s'and I entreat you to dou-
BILE the penance, if you can thereby
double the chance Of my performing
it."
"Jest not, my son; but remember
that you are still in situation of
great danger; wave may dash your
head against this raft, or may snap
the cord which holds you to it, and,
IN either case, your own is desperate.
1t would rather become you to make
confession, and receive absolution
while you may"
II have no objections, father, the
less that I have nothing else to do;
but I give you fair warming that you
will have to wait for your dues till we
reach land
"Hard-hearted, careless scoffer!
what If that should not be so GER
tain?"
''Then, so much better for the con-
fessor, father" said the Count, whose
natural audacity did not desert him
even in that hour.
"And how much for the penitent,
son?'' asked the priest, sternly. s'But
proceed, and that your wretched soul
may come the sooner to peace, I will
saYe you the narration of q life of
crime, by apprising you that I know
you"
by your mode of describing my
history, I think you do" said the
other. 81 need not tell you, then,
that I am the Count Guillaume dc
Burigny, 4 faithful servant of his
most Catholic Majesty"
GA faithless husband to broken
hearted wife-a traitorous friend to q
trusting associate-and treacherous
envoy to betrayed people. You
need not. I know the libertinism
which ended in a murder committed,
if not by your own hand, by your
orders, and the object with which you
have fled the scene of your guilt. I
know that the Count de Burigny,
having consummated career of pro-
higacy by dastardly crime, which
has banished him from Franco, has
sought to purchase pardon for the
rum of a family by intriguing for tho
ruin of a nation.
! 'Ha" exclaimed the Count; 'you
Iare aware of my errand to Norway?"
"Ay," said the priest, "the sword
of Sweden, whose blow already
hurtles in the air. is less terrible to
the Norwegians than is the poison of
France which you were sent to mix
This time, however, the cup shall be
dashed from your hand. You laugh. "
81 do" said the Count, "thou gh,
Heaven knows, this is no place for
mirth. You, who have such unex-
ceptionable information upon these
matters, are doubtless aware that the
cup you speak of is mixed"
"And in a woman's hand, that it
may be presented. The Count de
Burigny thinks he can safely return
to his master, while his beautiful
daughter remains to enforce, by
Establishment and smile, the dark
lesson he has tried to teach. How if
she, too, have left Norway?"
a shudder ran through the Counts
frame, and all the recklessness OF
tone had left his voice as he replied:
"Eugenia-tell me. father, in pity
what know you of Eugenia? I left
her in Bergen, in safe watching and
charge, though her work was some
what bold Nay, speak-whatever
else am, I am her father-you do
not know-vou cannot have heard
aught Of her?''
May" said the priest; ''I merely
asked what Count de Burigny's next
intrigue would be, should he hear
that a noble and maidsnly disposition
had been revolted by the task he had
given it, and that daughter had 81
lently left Bergen, and, following the
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