The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1877-01-12

the solemn day on which the three
school-friends of Ecouen had promised
to meet once again before the gate of
the palace of the Tuileries, whatever
might have happened to each in the in
terval.
The day agreed upon fell on a Sun
day. 1t was the season of autumn.
The trees in the garden of the Tuileries
shone all golden in the setting sun, and
soft, languid breeze played with a
dreamy, melancholy murmUring among
the red and yellow leaves, lightly ca
ressing the marble statues of gods and
goddesses on its onward course, and rip
pling the surface of the water in the
fountains.
The last stroke of six o'clock had Just
rung out on the evening air when car
riage with four horses dashed I'D to the
gate of the palace. The equipage was
of the most elegant description, the
horses of the purest English breed, and
as the coachman drew up, an attendant
with powdered head and blue and silver
livery jumped to the ground and threw
open the door of the carriage. A young
and beautiful woman, sumptuously
dressed, descended from it and stood be-
! fore the palace gate, looking around
with an anxious, earnest gaze as if in
search of some one. 1t was Marie, the
humble Marie, the daughter of the
blind sub-lfeutenant; but how had she
become so rich? The empire had passed
away, and the Restoration, which had
succeeded it, had restituted to Marie's
family the estates of which the Revolu-
tion had deprived them. Yes, ten years
had passed away, and the empire of
Napoleon had passed away with them.
AS Marie stood there looking round
her, woman in humble garb, of which
the scrupulous neatness could not dis
guise all the poverty, bowed to her with
! timid respect, and approached her with
diffident, hesitating steps. The next
moment, Marie was clasped in the arms
of Clarissa.
Clarissa, the daughter of a marshal OF
France, the brilliant beauty, the wife of
one of the richest financiers of. the day,
was ruined. Her husband had lost all
in unfortunate speculations, and had
gone abroad to seek to retrieve his fallen
fortunes.
"You shall tell me all your story at
my hotel, Clarissa," interrupted Marie,
tenderly kissing her, 'tyOu shall never
leave me again; l was poor at Ecouen
and you loved me; now l am rich in
my turn; don't be prouder now than ]
was then, and let US share everything
equally as in those happy days"
"But where is HOrtense, Marie?"
"YOu know what she was!" said
Marie, with a sigh.
"YOu know what she is '' replied
Clarissa, with a tear.
During those eventful ten years that
had passed, the humble sub-lieutenant's
daughter had become rich, the opulent
bankers wife had fallen into the direst
poverty, and Hortense was weeping out
a long and bitter exile in Germany.
'Is not your name Marie?"
"Is not your name Clarissa?"
He who addressed these questions tC
the two ladies was the gardener George
the witness of the vow made by the
three friends on the eve of their separa.
tion at Ecouen.
''This for you, and this for you," and
a moment after, he had disappeared.
The two friends opened each the small
casket that the former gardener of the
institution of Ecouen bad placed in
their hands.
One of these caskets contained half o.
the crown of Hortense, once queen o.
Holland, and daughter-in-law of Ma.
poleon l.
The other contained the other half
DenlOreStS S Magazine.