Litchfield enquirer., 1877-12-20
THE BEAUTY IN THE WOOD.

Jacques, my good fellow, this last mile has
 been perfectly intolerable. If you do not reach your much-boasted hostelry soon, not only my
 horse, but l, myself, shall be utterly exhaust ed" and the speaker grew shade whiter and
 reeled forward in his saddle as he spoke.
 It was nearly the close of stiltry Septem- Der day, and the sun was sinking, like a ball of fire, behind the distant mountains in upper Lorraine. The riders had been in the saddle for many hours, but one of them, middle! aged, sturdy looking peasant, seemed hardly the worse for the fatigue. His companion was tall man, young and handsome. He wore 8 military dress and carried small case much resembling dispatch-box, slung in front of his saddle. He looked like an Englishman, with his blonde beard and deep blue eyes but his dashing, soldiely seat in the saddle had been learned in many wild charge over the battlefield.
 Jacques shookhis head. ''What would Msieu have?" he asked, with helpless shrug. ''The horses are good beasts, none better, but what horse can travel from dawn to sunset without failing? It is only wonderful that they do not fall by the roadside, and then-what would Matire Pierre say As for the village of St. < Etienne, it is seven good miles by the road. five, ,as the crow flies /; what would M sieuhave? It is destiny" All this in an execrable patois, with many gesticulations and untranslatable shrugs.
 E 'Destiny or not, my good Jacques, returned the othre, in fluent French, II must sit down. by the roadside soon, and let you go on alone; my wound is growing more painful, and there is sensation accompanying it which don't like. Think again, my friend you say that you know the country hereabouts- there not some hut, however simple, this side of St. Eti- enne, where can rest for while? Seven miles more of this torture in my shoulder would be more than l can endure and keep mE senses" against the testimony of. the gray pallor of his was overcoming him. Jacques hands went up in an invocation to his patron saint.
 There is one place not more than two miles of where perhaps could take Msieu; but there are difficulties. It is place where no one goes-indeed, they say that Mere Margot is an old witch, although she is related to me the Madonna defend us !' and Jacques crossed himself devoutly. But if M'sieu will promise on bis sacred word as gentleman never to reveal that he has been there, or that took him-"
 ''Yes yes," interrupted the other, inpatient ly, anything that you will but, for heavens sake, lead the way. Is there no brandy in your flask?'
 Jacques pulled it out. "Hardlya half wine- glass left, Msieu but take it pray"
 A faint tinge of color came back to the wounded mans face after swallowingthe bran- dy, and in few moments he declared himself ready to proceed.
 'tVery well but if M'sieu is going to the chateau he must turn out of the highway and go direct into the forest" ...s .-,,.
 ''Have not told you to lead the way?" said the other. Then, less impatiently, "A chateau, ToS AS~.lxk H,,k ' keep from chateaux in this part of Lorraine the better for the safety of our necks"
 t'Ah, but Msieu mistakes,' said Jacques ea- gerly. They belong to the French noblesse, those DOrvales. It is singular family; but the last Baron fell at Sedan for France, ,n1'sieu Would Msieu like to hear of the last living DOrvale ?' His companion nodded, rather carelessly, and Jacques lowered his voice and drew his horse nearer the other in his selfeect- ed importance as raconteur. - E .'The last Baron was, they say, a sad, wild fellow, but very proud, like all his race He grew up at the chateau with his mother, for his father died when he was baby. But Madame, the old Baronne, ah a6e was terri l ble. Every one stood in awe of her; the old | servants hated her, while they trembled before | her. She had the evil eye, and M'sieu knows 1 that one dare not offend one who has that. After the Baron had been man grown for l some years Madame, his mother, became anx- ious that he should marry, that the old name might not die out. So, hearing of some dem oiselle in Paris, the child of an old friend and grand dame~ who was of maTiageabie age, she set forth on journey to arrange the affair; having the Baron to his own pursuits at the ] chateau. Is Monsieur listening ?"
 Monsieur was.
 Nobody knew how it came to pass, but af- l ter his mothers departure the Baron behaved 1 like another man. The evil eye was removed, 1 suppose. The studies and books to which | he had been for some time devoted were aban- 1 doned, and he went hunting and riding about 1 the country from morning until night. Then l Madame fell ill in Paris. She was always hop l ing to get better, and 50 would not send for | her son; it was bad weather too; any way, l Monsieu, month after month passed, and she l did not return. At last, one day, the servants at the chateau were amazed toreceive instruc- tions from their masterto makeready the state 1 apartments. for. he was about to bring home bride. Does Monsieur see ?'
 Monsieur did
 It was not the bride for whom his mother had destined him, continued Jacques: sbut an English girl whom he had met and fallen in love with at the little village of St. Etienne. Some young northern demoiselle who had been travelling with friends their governess, it was said; and she fell i'll at St Etienne and had to I be left there. But, oh, M'sieu, she was beau tiful as dream The country people say her hair was like glory about her head, and her eyes had the look of the Madonna's.l. No won der the Baron worshiped her they thought he l would have died for her.
 .sWhat came of it ?'' @a
 s 1t was months before Madame returned to Lorraine. Perhaps news travels slowly to Paris, or the Baron kept his secret well; at least when Madame returned she did not