Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1872-05-16


of Achille Pignolet. Beside him lay his sis.
ter.
..-.-- CHAPTER XIX.
"Do we move ourselves, or are we moved by an
unseen hand at gameT-MAUD.
She was quite dead. The beautiful features
were distorted with fearful grimace- AS if
she had sneered at Death, and was struck to
stone in the impious act. There was no per-
ceptible wound; but her neck was broken.
She had fallen headlong in her daring haste.
The guide, Beppo, afterwards recounted
the fearful story-how he had implored her
to desist-how she had laughed in her musi.
cal, scofing way, as she stood poised upon the
very pinnacle of the fatal rock. Then came
the wild appeal Of her brother, another
laugh-she turned and waved her hand as if
in triumph--and fell All ! that shrick.
Our lady save u.s. And the wild rush of the
devoted Brother forward to make that futile
attempt to save her-and then he fell likewise.
Here poor Beppo would be utterly overcome
by his grief and horror, and iall into tears
and reproaches against himself for not having
detained her forcibly-the beautiful, angel
lady and call upon the mother of God 10
pray for her. . ....
Count Hugo heard this sad rehearsal, but
he could only relate the bare facts TO the
silent party, who sat watching by the frozen
corpse Of the ill-fated girl.
In the adjoining room Achille Pignolet lay
on the brink of the yawning gulf; which
threatened momently to hide him from NOR
tai gaze. His body was horribly mangled
and bruised, but he still breathed. Aunt
Agatha stood by him day and night, and here
her beautiful character shone forth in all its
lustre. As for the stricken mother she was
reaping her own reward. Her only children
were made the instruments of her chastise
ment, for she had failed to guide them Alright,
and now the wind had brought forth the whirl-
wind.
The threatened storm set in, and for one
long, ever-memorable week they were detain.
ed in the miserable little inn of St. Gothard.
The invalid slowly convalesced, and as the
road became passable it was decided that the
party should continue their journey, leaving
aunt Agatha and Jack to take care of Achille.
Madame Pignolet was not able to be Of any
assistance in the nursing, and so it was best
she should not remain.
One evening toward the close Of the week,
the little band followed a covered litter to the
chapel of a convent few miles below in the
valley, and there mass was read over the dead
body of Ninon Pignolet. How little she
rocked of the solemn prayers! Of what
small avail were those petitions Ora pro
nobis," "Nuno ct in hora mortis," which she
had heard with needless ears while living I?
The mockery struck Mildred with horrible
vividness. Around were the Pickering tapers;
incense filled the chill air the sweet, plain
tive voices of the nuns rose and fell as the
priest sprinkled the corpse with cedar and
hyssop; and anon came the chaunted prayer.
"Ora pro me-" Oh! poor Ninon. In that
land from which there is no returning these
mortal cries can never penetrate.
And 30 they left her. The Alpine SHOWS
still cover her grave in the Convent yard, but
they are not colder than the heart which sac
religiously dared to take vengeance from the
Hand of Him to whom it belongeth.
1t was many months before Mildred heard
the story of Mardigras night and its sequel.
Then the repentant man poured out his love
and bis remorse at the feet of the woman for
whom he had sinned and suffered. Jealousy
had been the bane of bis life as it has been Of
his lost sister. They were accomplices in the
deception of Mardigras, little dreaming how
tragically it would terminate When all was
over, Gilbert Collier had come to him and
with the widest reproaches related the terri.
BILE end of their schemes. It was Ninon he
blamed most, and the wretched girl had never
recovered from the shock when he called her
a murderess-the murderess of the man she
loved-and of the woman he loved. Then
crazed with grief and despair, he threw the
topaz ring upon the floor, and exclaiming,
"God may forgive you, but I never can," he
fled from the house like madman.
Mildred heard all in forced silence, and
then she gave her hand to the man who had
cost her so much. It was hard struggle,
but love like charity covereth multitude of
SINS
"May God forgive you" she said, "as do.
Five years have passed. The bright June
sun is kissing the rose-garden of Weir-wood.
Stray beams CLINT in through the halfclosed
blinds and fall caressingly upon two fair-hair-
ed children asleep in each others arms-a
tiny Katherine Moreton, and young Hugo of
The Countess bends over her
child, and proud smile lights her dark, hand
some face.
"Come here, Mildred" she says, "and see
how wonderfully alike these children are.
Both the counterpart of Jack-are they not?"
Count Hugo rises from his game Of chess
with Colonel Meredith, and comes over to the
corner where the two children have fallen
asleep upon crimson afghan in the midst of
their play. They might have been brother
and sister so singularly were they alike in form