The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1878-11-06
The Plague at MarseiIIes.

The 18th of March, 1920, was a gay
and Joyous day in the queen city Of the
Mediterranean, Marseilles, which even
then was one of the finest places of the
old world, and which to-day is dazzling
in the splendor of its gorgeous build
ings, its magnificent situation and its
sunny sky.
On that day great event occurred in
the commercial history of Marseilles.
The frst ship from Levant, laden
with precious cachemire wool, had ar
rived and it was to be woven at Mar
seilles, whose great ambition was to
eclipse the spinneries of Lyons and
Rouen.
The sailors of the ship were treated to
collation. at the public expense, and
until late hour Of the night crowds
singing joyous ditties were passing
through the principal streets of the city.
Alas Had the people of Marseilles
known what dreadful calamities the
wool ship had carried to them
1t had sailed from Smyrna, and at
smyrna that terrible scourge of former
ages the plague, was raging.
Disinfecting processes at that time
we're never resoTted to, and the narrow
streets of Marseilles, near the harbor,
were kept in very filthy condition.
Next day the wool ship was unloaded,
and two hours later most of the work
men engaged on the dock near. it were
writhing in the agonies of the plague.
A cry of horror resounded throughout
the whole city when the dread news be-
came generally known. The stores
were shut up and the people locked
themselves in their dwellings,. Some Of
the wealthy residents hurriedly left the
city, and departed for the pine clad hills
Of north Marseilles, where the air was
bracing and salubrious.
But the vast majority of the people
stayed. Stayed to die-to die in man.
ner too horrible to imagine.
II was at setting in of dusk that we'll
dressed and very handsome young man
entered narrow street in the northern
part of the city. He stood still in front
of low house, the window shutters of
which where tightly closed. From his
pocket he drew silver whistle, and
blew three shrill notes from it.
A few minutes later the front door of
the house was cautiously opened.
In the dim twilight the young man re-
cognized frail female form, dressed in
flowing white wrapper. He rushed to-
ward her, and clasping her in his arms
exclaimed, rapturously
Sephronia -
"Antoine p
For a minute they remained locked in
fervent embrace. Then she drew him
gently into hallway. They exchanged
many tender caresses.
At last she ushered him into cozily-
furnished back room, lighted by hang
ing lamp, which shed dim light over
the room. They ssat down on low
divan.
She was a girlish beauty of the true
Eastern style, graceful as a fawn, per-
haps eighteen years old, perhaps year
or two younger, with hair raven black,
a complexion faultlessly pure, magnif-
cent eyes and mouth as charming as
that of the Venus of Milo.
The young man took her hand, and
gazed lovingly into her eyes.
Sophronia," he said at last, 81 have
come 20 hear your decision"
A cloud at once darkened the brow of
the lovely girl.
"Antoine de Couras," she said, press
ing her small hand against her heart,
"you love mel love you you with all
my heart. But"
"But p' he exclaimed impatiently.
But, Antoine, dearest Antoine, l
cannot marry you |"
he sprang to his feet, uttering a wild
imprecation.
"Why, Sophronia, whyi" he cried,
stamping his foot on the ground.
"Listen to me, Antoine" she said,
calmly. "What am 1 in the eyes of the
world but a wretched outcast2 The
daughter of a woman who was broken
on the wheel as a witch" Her bosom
heaved conyulsively as she uttered these
words. "