Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1879-02-19

There was day when Tallyrand arriv-
ed in Havre, in great haste from Paris. 1t
was in the darkest hour of the French
revolution. Pursued by the bloodhounds
of the reign of terror, stripped of every
wreck of property or power, Tallyrand
secured passage to America and was
about to sail. He was going Il beggar and
n wanderer to strange land, to earn his
bread by his daily labor.
Is there any American staying at your
houseo he asked the landlord of his hotel
am bound across the water and would
like letter to some person of influence
in the new world,
The landlord hcsitated II moment and
then replied:
There is gentleman upstairs, either
from America or Britain; but whether
an American or Englishman l cannot
tell.
He pointed the way and Tallyrand. who
in early life was bishop, prince and after
ward prime minister, ascented the stairs.
He stood before the strangers's door,
knocked and entered.
In the far corner of the dimly lighted
room sat gentleman of so years, his
arms folded and his head bowed on his
breast. From window directly oppo-
site, a flood of light poured over his fore
head. His eyes, looking from beneath
the downcast brows, gazed in Tallyrand's
face with peculiar and searching express
sion. His face was striking in its outline
the mouth and chin indicating an iron
will. His form, vigorous, even with the
SHOWS of fifty winters. was clad in II dark
but rich and distinguished costume.
Talyrand advanced, stated that he was
fugitive. and under the impression that
the gentleman before him was an Ameri-
can, he solicited his kind feeling and Off
ces pouring forth his history in eloquent
French and broken English.
am wanderer-an exile. am fore
ell to fly to the New World without ray
of hope. You are an American. Give
me, beseech you, II letter of yours. so
that | may earn my daily bread. | am
willing to toll in any manner; the scenes
in Paris have filled me with such horror,
that n life of labor would be a paradise to
Il career of luxury in France. You will
give me letter TO one of your friends?
The strange gentleman rose. With n
look that Tallyrand never forgot, he re-
treated toward the door of the next chanl-
Der, his head still downcast, his eyes look
ing still from behind his darkened brow.
He spoke rs he retreated backward-his
voice was full of meaning:
am the only man born in the New
World who can raise his hand to God and
say, | have not Il friend, not one in all
America!
Tallyrand never forgot the overwhelm-
inc satlness of the look that accompanied
these words.
Who are you? he cried rs the strange
gentleman retreatea toward the next
room. Your name?
Nv namc.-wih smile that had more
of mockery than joy in its expression
NV name is Benedict Arnold.
lie was gone. Tallyranl sank in a
chair, grasping the words:
Arnold. the traitor. one who has be
trayed his country.
Thus Arnold wandered over the earth
another Cain, with Il wanderers mark on
his brow. Even in that secluded room al
that inn of IIavre, his crime found him
out, and forced him to tell his name-tha
name the synonym Of infamy.
The last twenty years of Arnold's life
we're covered with Il cloud from whose
darkness bnt :, few CLEANS of Ii ght fasl
out upon the page of history.