Connecticut western news., 1872-01-26
VOL. I.

You know him, Chevalier 9
 "Slightly only"
 "Tell me-is he like his father ?"
 "He is taller"
 "I mean in disposition ?"
 Alfred changed colors.
 ''l cannot say. l am not qualified tC speak about his father"
 A cold bad man. A selfish man. But however, l must not weary you witt family affairs. Tell us of your travels and try to enliven two women who sec nothing oi this world"
 Alfred remained a month. From time to time he spoke of going away; but Madame de Courval pressed him to stay.
 But one August evening, after dinner when Madame de Courval was sitting at the open window, sound asleep, and Lucie was with Alfred in the garden, the end came. He was reading to her. Look. Ing up from his book, he saw that her eyes were far away. He stopped suddenly
 "Pray go on,'' said Lucie, reused by the cessation of bis voice.
 "What was I reading last?' he asked with a smile.
 She was fairly caught, and had to ac- knowledge that she was thinking of some thing else.
 "so was l." said Alfred. "Iwas think ing that must go."
 You must go, M. de St. Aubin ?" she asked, turning pale.
 "I must go," he said. "I must go to. morrow, unless-unless-'
 "Unless what, monsieur p
 '' Unless, Lucie, you love me-" he said taking her hand" unless you love me, as love you."
 Lucie answered not for a moment, but her hand was in his. The sweet autumn air famed her cheeks. The birds in the trees were bidding each other good night The suns last rays touched her head Her eyes softened, and filled with tears.
 You must not" she said at last t-" you must not speak thus to me. am be- trothed."
 "But you do not love your betrothed 9
 "I hate him. have never seen him.
 "And, Lucie, if you were not betrotEed if you were free"
 She rose from her seat, and with clear voice, for she saw no shame, she replied elf were free--if 1 could--I would love you. Now, let me go.'
 Alfred caught her in his arms, and press ed her 10 his heart.
 My Lucie-it is possible-it is possi- ble."
 4 light noise started him. It was Madame de Courval herself, witness tc the scene. Trembling with emotion, he left Lucie standing shame-faced, confused and took her mothers hand. "Madame de Couryal," he said, "heal mo for one moment.o
 How can I hear you?" she said. ." " hat can l say to you? Oh, my son, whom 1 love so much, why should you not spare my daughters heart?"
 She sat in the garden seat, and wept bitter tears while Lucie fell at her feet, and buried her face in her hands.
 Dear lady, hear me. have been greatly to blame-how much hardly vet know; but try and forgive me. Twenty sone years ago, two children were betroth- ed. They never saw each other. The time came when they should be married The young man was sent into the country to claim his bride, not to woe her. 1tseemed to him degrading, insolent and barbarous. But he went, because he had no choice; only on the way he changed his name, and under false name he enter ed the house. And under false name he saw and loved his bride. Lucie"-he knelt by her side, and threw his arms round her neck-"ask with me our moth. CTS pardon; for we love eacb other, and am your betrothed, Alfred de la Lraye.' What could Madame dc Courval do but forgive him, and take her weeping daush. ter to her heart
 Then followed few weeks of a calm untroubled joy during which the gate; of Eden were thrown open, and the pal, wandered, like Adam and Eve, in garder of all delights. Then the young girl bareC all her soul to her lover, and show ed hin the sweet and tender fancies which lay like spring flowers, about her heart Alone in the forest they wandered during the long summer hours, pouring into eacf others ears the thoughts that had beer locked up in their hearts. Surely, of al delights in the world, the greatest is the delight of leading another nature-fkt your own, but different.
 It was all too sweet to last. One day there came peremptory letter from tho old marquis. Alfred was to come to bin at once; things were so bad that he mus go to England as soon as possible; he was ill, and Alfred must travel with him.
 There was no help: he must go. He tore himself away the next morning, with tht promise that they would follow to Bug land as soon as possible. And then he tool his father, petulent and irritable, ac1os. the channel. There the old man was laic up with violent fit of illness and Alfred tied to his chamber for months, could only watch the course of events, and hope that the storm would not reach the Chatcal de Courval. But bad news came iron Lucie. They were forbidden to leave tn, castle, and went out under surveillance That might not mean much. Their live. were so utterly innocent and peaceable that no possible har r, he thought, ooult come to them. But every village in Franc, possessed its avenger, generally in tn, shape of some truculcnt ruffian, who mad the misdeeds of bygone days an excuse fo murder and pillage. One such there wa in Couryal-the village orator and the vii lage blacksmith. He it was by who's agency the ladies oe the castle were place, under surveillance, and forbidden to leay the place. And presently came to Alfre, the ghastly news of the massacre of tn prisoners; and scrap from Lucie, tellfn hlm that they, too, had been arres ted, an, were to be taken to Blois. Half mad witt terror, he left his father in charge of nurse, and hurried across fo France. Hi faithful valet went with him, and helpe him with disguises in getting safely t Blois. But once there, what was he to do Dressed in blouse, with hands and fac stained as if by hard work, he found temporary hiding place in the house of hi valet's uncle-a halt blind, wholly dea old man, who knew nothing of what va going on around him and cared for nc thing, only to get his meals regularly Alfred lay hid in his concealment for thre days; only going out at night to join tn mob, who seemed 10 have nothing to d but to patrol the streets, shouting thei frantic songs ofliberty. Alas for bis drear of glorious revolution This, then, wa the end of it all a maddencd L.o, t1 murder of innocent women and children and the cxaltation of the viIest deuaor