The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1875-08-19

together.
Marguerite Shall I confess that for
One moment shrank as from a coming
pain, a hidden danger? Then every
instinct in my manhood rose in quick
rebellion. Ny friends wife was vestal
10 me even IN thought sacred as if
shrined and guarded by inapproachable
distances. I would go with him.
Why had he not written to me p
Simply because he ad lost my address
."only this and nothing more.
It would take too long to tell our de-
lightful journey. and pass on rapidly
to the hour when the towers of Stras-
bouTR rose before us, and the lofty spire
of her cathedral pierced the clouds.
My friends chateau was inside the
walls of the city, on rising ground.
'See," he said, with a sweep of his
hand, as the carriage rolled slowly along,
so this is not so grand, so fresh, as your
great New World ; yet it is fair pic
ture."
He might well say so. The seven
gated city lay at our feet the blue
Rhine wound along between stored
banks; the branching Ill glided through
the town. picturesque with its many
bridges in the far distance rose the
Vosg, mountains, and the Black Forest
of Germany.
And now we were at the chateau,
stately pile, ivy clad and moss grown,
yet bright, seemingly with an eternal
youth.
Marguerite, this is the friend of
whom You have so often heard me speak
Edward Ripon, said L'Estrange, as
entered the salon an hour after, and a
fair, sweet, womanly face, the face of
the Madeleine, looked up from the bit
of embroidery over which it was bend
ing.
els she like the picture-my Mar
guerite ?" asked my host but before I
could reply he went on "By that name
you first knew her, and by that name
you are to know her now. We are to
live in Arcadia for a whole month and
as is fitting we are to be to each other
Marguerite and Edward and Hippolyte.
Have not the kind fates proved that we
are akin, as told you years ago? Why
else have they brought us together ?"
1 bowed low over the lady 8 hand; but
I did not call her-Marguerite Neither
did call her Madame L'Estrange.
Some subtitle underlined feelingprevented
that compromised by not calling her
anything.
must not make my story too long.
You anticipate all would say. There
were no other guests at the chateau.
We three were as isolate as Adam and
Eve in the Garden of Eden, That was
truely an enchanted week, in which we
rode, we rambled, we talked, we read,
we saDg-happy jewellers in Arcadia.
And then-then-I awoke one day to
find that there was no safety for me but
in fight. This "Marguerite" was grow.
ing too dangerously dear. I, who pray
daily, "Let me not be led into tempta
tation"-what business had I there
dallying with danger?
l was not villain / was not an idiot
had no more cOnceit than my fellows
yet, 1 could not help seeing that Mar.
guerite's soft brown eyes grew sortel
still when they met mine, and that the
! long lashes dropped over them with &
subtler grace when 1 drew near. 1 die
| not look for this but it was there, anC
I saw it must go.
A determination that I made known
| to my friend the next morning.
"But you are not going - he said
cit is too soon. Did not say you were
to stay a month? We will have more
guests, if you tire of this dull life and
you shall see the old chateau alive Will
song and dance. My old friend must
| stay"
Ono" I answered, ''your friend must
go. Do not make it too hard for him tc
leave you"
He looked at me narrowly.
g Has anything gone wrong ?" he
! asked, in low tone. "Tell me, my
friend had thought had dreamed
- Is there anything amiss with you
Marguerite ?"
He spoke in his own tongue now as
he always had when any strong emotion
stirred him. l answered in mine, my
cheeks white and cold, but my eyes
ablaze
''Amiss-an ythiDg amiss, NJ. LES
TRANCE ? Do I hear you Alright You are
speaking of the lady who is your wife
and of one who would fain be an honor
able man Anything amiss, monsieur.
He looked at me an instant as If he
! thought I had zone mad. Then a suddeT
light seemed to break over his face
| and, to my anger and establishment, he
laughed a genuine hearty laugh. But
before could speak, his mood changed
| and he caught me impulsively in his
arms.
80 my poor boy p he cried, "I see
it all, row. And you thought Marguer
/ tie was my wife? But I told you she
was rot, when you asked me so long
! ago. Do you not remember? I supposed
| you understood. The woman who should
have been my wife lies in the church
yard yonder. Monsieur Ripon-Mar
! guerite is my sister -
I covered my face with my hands.
! could have sunk into the dust at hi
| feet. 1t was all so clear to me now-ai
clear as MONDAY. Yet, with my precon
ceived ideas of their relationship, anC
in q country with whose domestic lift
and habits was so unfamiliar, coulC
not so much wonder at my mistake
! The patois of the servants, too, hai
helped to mislead me-Rnd had seel
no others.
I dared not look at him. The gentl
dignity of his last words overpo weret
me, even while, in spite of nay confusion
and dismay, my heart was thrillin!
with a newborn hope.
lifted my eyes at last to meet hi
filled with affOble tenderness.
"You know my secret, " 1 said. ''Shal
you take me at my word, my friend
must go away?"
"Nay, nay,' he whispered. cit wa
for this that we were thrown togethe
that October morning. Was it no
charmed, the token gave you? Sta.
now; and, if you can win her gentl
heart, will give you yet another pear
my Marguerite -
just as long as 1 live, I mean to re
member in my prayers the gentleman
! who " missed connection at Syracuse :;
for, if it had not been for him, would
| ever have worn the rare pure pearl tina
was given to me two months since, by
my brother HippOlyte L'Estrange p
! AppletO1l'S Journal.
Cleopatra's Needle.