Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1877-10-13

to recognize. Jacques had the o.
dest way of putting carefully asiC
every word l wrote to him. Fl
this purpose he had a peculiar be
made which this key opens; IL
letters contain very little of interes
/ but | should be sorry to have thel
fall Into strangers hands. May
begy you toprocuret them for me? Yo
will find the little chest in his room
1t is incased in red leather, and ca
be known at once by the cover b,
ing stained with my monogram, :.
de V.'p
You forget that / do not kno,
| where the late Monsieur Jacque
Fromentin lived, and ] have n
right to intrude upon his home"
"He lived with his mother" Sh
gave me the address. g AS far as
know of the old lady, she will az
cede to anything that you ask her i
her sons name. Imyself"-an ugi
smile fitted over her features-''
myself have not the honor c
knowing Madame Fromentin, 0
/ should spare you the trouble &
bringing back my letters"
shall cheerfully do everythin,
to fulfill the last wishes of Jacque
FrOmentin," said /.
She rose, as much as to say, "YOl
may go now," and / took the hint
and withdrew at once.
In the bottom of my heart l wa
angry with the dead man for havin.
bestowed his love on such an un
worthy object. $50 that was tn,
chaste Jeanne !" / thought, and
compared the reality with the pic
ture my fancy had painted. Mad
anne de Villers. the beloved mistress
of Jacques, is simply one of the
countless Aspasias whom the mod
ern Athens has prOduced-a Marga
ret Bellanger, Cora Pearl, Anne dc
Lions. l congratulate the dead man
on his death! He has certainly
been spared much shame and mis-.
cry" Then / meditated more
deeply. Ellis blood was young and
hot, poor fellOw!" l philosophical,
" and the devil men call Venus
could without difficulty entirely be-
sot him." What | could not pardon
Jacques was, that he had not APP
peared to have thought for his
l went straightway to her house,
for my stay in Paris was to be brief,
and, in spite of the disappointment
which my visit to Madame de Viii
lers had prepared me for, / was re-
solved to carry out conscientiously
Jacques FrOmentin's last wishes.
Madame Fromentin lived in a small
house in quiet, well-knOwn street.
The servant who opened the door
for me was an old man with white
hair. / remarked that he was in
deep mourning.
Madame FrOmentin receives no
one" "said he, as l handed him my
card.
"Tell her that l bring news of her
son." replied ].
"Of her sOn-of Monsieur JAG
ques :" cried the man, and became
rs pale as death. "Does he still
live?"
No" said ], sadly. "I bring
only the news Of his death. / saw
Monsieur Jacques die J"
The old servant remained silent
for a moment, then slowly retired.
At the door which led into the house
he stood still an instaat, as if he were
how he should an
nOunce me; then he heaved a deep
sigh, shook sorrOwfully his white
head, and entered the hall. / was
obliged to wait several minutes be-
fore he returned to show me into
he receptiOn-rOOm. ItWas large,
apartment, filled with
substantial, unpre-
ending furniture, which formed a
striking contrast to the parlor / had
ust left. Two portraits struck my
Eye at once. In one / recognized
Jacques FrOmentin;
he other represented a lovely girl
If marked, earnest beauty. The re-
iemblance in the expressions of the
aces made me recognize the two
pictures as portraits of brother and
lister. The door opened slowly, and
turned around. A venerable lady
n the deepest mourning entered the
'OOm.
" l am the mother of Jacques Fro
said she.
/ made a low bow, and took a seat
beside her. My tongue cleaved to
ny palate; | knew not how to open
he conversation. 1t was clear to me
hat | did not have courage, that |
'Ould not have courage, to tell the
Unhappy lady before me the whole
ruth concerning the death of her
on.
"You are already aware of the
that has befallen you,"
began, in a low voice.
She made a mute sign with her
read, and covered her burning
yes with her hand but ! saw
he bitter tears on her emaciated
heeks, and my heart felt as if it
hand which lay in her lap,
nd reVerently kissed it.
"YOur son died the death Of the
IOble and the brave" / continued.
| wish / could give you comfort"
Nothing can give me comfort"
eplied she amid her tears. My
iOd! how shall / live? what shall
do? Since the day he disappear
d, / have shortened my life with
.rief and anguish! | longed to hope
hat he still lived-that he was a
prisoner, that he was wounded, that
le could not write; but for two
months l have known the worst,
or l have found his grave !"
She could say no mOre-her grief
hoked her. | dared not break the
silence. After few min
ties she asked me:
Where did you see him for the
lst time?"
/ related how Jacques had been
arried, mortally wounded, into the
ospital of Ecouen, and that he had
oOn after died there.
How did you know my address e?
inquired she.
Then came the unavoidable false
lOOd.
He asked me to seek you out,
nd inform you of his death,' l an
wered, boldly.
"God bless him for the thought of
rs mother ?'' said she; "and God
less you for the message and the
OmfOrt you have brought me :"
| felt ashamed, but | could not re-