The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-10-06

see TO the arrangement of her bag
gage. She returns, her face full OF
alarm, and coarse, reddish envelope in
her hand.
"Be not alarmed, my child tbs a
telegram for you, think. Nine. A.
s. Westmoreland, reads the elderly
lady from the wretched thing in her
hand.
"Monsieur Won Linden just gave it to
me now as l passed by the office.
/ take it, and with trembling fingers
tear open the envelope and unfold the
bit of paper. A smile breaks over my
face and the blood resumes its place in
my cheeks-nothing more terrible than
this:
"wait over day at Baden. 1 will join you
on Saturday evening. ALaY."
1 read it aloud to the Comtesse, who
shares my Joy in charming fashion, and
instantly offers to ring the bell, summon
the hostess, and secure me a room at
once for my stay. accede gracefully,
and ere long am comfortably-nay, lux
uriantly-ensconced in bright, ele-
gantly Furnished room adjoining the
suite of the Comtesse-in fact, communi-
eating with it by door, which l beg
may stand open, as am considerably
more than tmid.
After a sumptuous supper, served In
my new friends apartment, with great
neatness, by pretty, blue-eyed Ger
man girl, make my excuses and retire.
am, in truth, worn out with sleepless
nights in railway coaches, and am very
thankful when find myself once more
in veritable bed. l dream-a queer,
confused mass of nonsense-and, amid
tie vagaries of my night in the hotel of
Monsieur Won Linden, / dream that l am
suffocating, smothering with some
strange-smelling stuff held tightly over
my mouth then that il is removed, and
that 1 can see distinctly, although / can
move no more than if were stone. I
see that the communicating little door
between my room and the Comtesse's
little parlor stands open, letting in a
flood of bright, warm candle-light; L
see woman in rose-colored wrapper
gliding stealthly about my apartment.
She is young, and pretty woman with
short, very blonde hair curling all over
her head, and she keeps walking care
fully about my room, peering into this
corner and that, under my clothes, un-
der the lounge cushion, and into the
chest of drawers and finally she creeps
up to the bed. L feel her hands crawl
ing over the blankets, and at last search
ing under the piled-up pillows beside
me-for wbat2 My dot, my precious
diamonds, which placed there for
safety. / try to scream, but cannot
am "a silent as the dead, and watch
her, helplessly, recross the room, glie
through the door, close it, and then no
more.
When / awake in the morning, the
bright Baden sunshine is streaming in
my windows, and 1 feel strangely un-
rested; my eyes ache, and my temples
throb. 1 rise and close the creaking
shutters. AS do so hear low wall
from the apartment of the Comtesse, and
like flash of lightning my dream oc-
ours to me. 1 make one plunge to the
bed again, pull aside the pillows-my
dot is gomez A knock comes at the COM
municatng door, accompanied by an
other wall.
"Come in I" I cry, as I sit staring
distractedly about me.
"Ah, Nine. Westmorelandl What
have here3 All ah my few jewels
gone The thieves, the burglars All !
l will have satisfaction from Mons. Won
Linden All what will become of me Z"
The Comtesse had then been robbed
also, poor lady She was we'll nigh be-
side herself as she recounted to me
almost my own experience; the sensa-
tion of suffocation, and of hearing some
one walking stealthily about her room.
AS my new friend said nothing about
having seen the robber, 1 held my peace,
being rather ashamed of telling what 1
now know must have been a dream,
mixed up, oddly enough, with truth.
When I told her my misfortune, she.
condoled with me in the most tender
and heartfelt manner, and between her
tears over her own petit bijoux, tried,
in her pretty French fashion, to suggest
ways to me of recovering my splendid
gems. But, while the Comtesse made
her toilet with all possible haste, and
flew down to worthy Monsieur Won Lin
den, sat like a small statue staring at
the tumbled pillows, aud then began to
cry like a baby, which performance /
kept up full hour at least, and at last
determined to do nothing. In reality
there was nothing for me to do, for my
husband was travelling toward me just
as fast as steam could bring him, and,
as assured the Comtesse, felt that,
"when Algy came, all would be dis
covered"
So whiled away the long day gazing
at the passers-by out of the Comtesse's &
windows, and listening to her alternate
means over her own gems, and descrip-
tions of the gayeties of Baden in the
gone gaming days, when she was young.
She was true daughter of La Belle
France, volatility itself, and indeed
envied her quick spirits that mournful
day in Baden. At o'clock Algy would
be with me, and 1t was 8 o'clock now,
A knock at the door. Another of those
detestable, terrifying pinkish envelopes
the Comtesse hands me, and read il
while she, with adjusted glasses, peruses
her own documents.
"This is too much," / say, fairly
bursting into tears, as my eyes fell oi
the scrawled message:
impossible TO come on start at once.
".ALaY."
"Ah, mon enfant what is it Lee
me assist you. All, mon ange dry thos
tears, for your husband must not Sc,
| .,r,,. 1,aort,f,,1 axv.o o,o,laI xrban Il.