The Grange advance., 1874-06-17


that he was born in Italy !; Of his childhood
he had a confused recollection and remem-
bered no parents. At tender age he had
been placed at school. This was his earli-
est and most vivid recollection. After
several years of isolated life, Monsieur de
Ceran, whom ne then saw for the first time,
had come to claim him and take him to
France. The tender solicitude evinced
for him had given the boy new life; but
Henri often saw that De Ceran was anxious
ly preoccupied, and it was evident that
some great afliction had left its impress
upon his soul. At times his sutferings
appeared great, and he would order the
boy from his presence with irexplicable
harslness, evincing almost hatred. Such
display of feeling ever awakened the deep
est grief in Henri, which quickly recalled
De Ceran to himself.
Forgive me, forgive me, my Henri, for
I am so unhappy, he would murmur,
clasping the lad to his heart, oh, why
are you not my son?' he would often add
with wild burst of SORROW
Thus had Henri Duval's life passed, and
its ftful fever had taught, even while still
a child, the deep meaning and cruel pain
the portion of mortal existence. Tie scene
which had just transpired before his eyes
had aroused his sensitiveness, and he
yearned for the sight of the stranger, whose
eyes had fingered so tender]y in their visit
full gaze.
During eight days which elapsed after
the meeting Henri was quiet and thought
ful and De Ceran watched him anxiously,
for he saw that the soul Of the boy had
awakened to new life, and that the hour
was not far distant when Henri would come
to him and say, Now that you have given
me education, have pointed out path for
my future, must go out into the world,
but must first know what claim have to
the name bear, I must know who was my
mother v hat answer should he give
On the day on which the scene already
mentioned had transpired Henri retired to
his room. Monsieur de Ceran had given
him a Greek translation to accomplish,
which would occupy some hours. The
boy seated himself to the task, but his
brain was burning hot and his ideas con-
fused. At length, discouraged and weary,
he determined to resign the task; but on
attempting to leave his room he found the
door locked. The hot blood flushed his
cheek, and his spirit rebelled at the re-
straint placed upon his movements. An
grily he shook the door, which suddenly
yielded to his touch. Rushing down stairs
Henri ran into the open air; it was evening,
and the stars shone clear in the heavens.
A feeling Of regret for the anger he had
displayed urged the bog to return to his
room; this he was about to do, when sud.
denly he stopped. For one moment he
fancied himself the mere plaything of a
vision, but the next instant he saw that it
was no fancy, and that woman at the ex.-
treme end Of the path was vending her way
toward pavilion which he himself had
never entered. 1mpelled by one of those
irresistible desires which do not allow time
for thought, he followed the stranger and
saw her enter the pavilion. With stealthy
footsteps he approached a partially open
window, where he could both see and hear
all that t1anspired.
A single lamp burned dimly within.
Near table Monsieur de Ceran was seated.
and directly in front of him stood the
shadow which Henri had followed-the sad
and beautiful face which had haunted the
boys thoughts Monsieur de Ceran was
speaking, and Henri listened eagerly.
Madame said De Ceran, you have
desired an explanation. Need say it is
useless You have written me that had
destroyed your existence, but you, what
have you done with mine? What is it you
Iseek9 Would you revive in my soul the
remembrance Of sorrows which ought to
have killed and which time ought simply
weakens without destroying?'
Be merciful,' murmured the woman, in
ascarcely articulate voice.
DO you wish to kindle that hatred
which ought to have been buried in a
grave?' continued De Ceran.
May God forgive you,' replied his
listener, for you are unmerciful and
cruel
mo, madame resumed Monsieur de
Ceran, his face clouded with look OF
deep anger; mo, am less cruel than you
have been, less unrelenting. Listen to