The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1879-07-12
Not Ono Friend In all AmerIcn.

NOt oDO FRIEND III AL America,
There was day when Talleyrand
arrived in Havre, In great haste from
Paris. 1t was In the darkest hours of
the French Revolution. Pursued by
the bloodhounds Of tho Reign of Ter
ror, stripped of every wreck of proper
ty or power, Talleyrand secured Il pas
sage to America in ship about to sail
lie was going beggar and wandercr
to strange land, to earn his bread by
his daily labor.
"Is there any American staying at
your house9" lie asked the landlord of
his hotel. 'I'm bound to cross the
water, and would like a letter to some
person Of influence in the New World. "
The landlord hesitated moment,
and then replied
"There Is a gentleman up stairs eth
er from America or Britain but whcth-
er an American or Englishman can
not tell"
lie pointed the way, and Talleyrand
who In early life was bishop, prince,
and afterwards prime minister, as,
ccnded the stairs. A miserable suppli-
ant, he stood before the strangers door.
Knocked, and entered.
In the far corner of the dimly light
cd room sat gentleman of some fifty
years, his arms folded, and his head
bowed on his breast. From a window
directly opposite, flood Of light pour
Ell over his forehead. His eyes, looking
from beneath the downcast brows,
gazed In Talleyrand's face with a pecu-
liar and searching expression. His
face was striking In its outline, the
mouth and chin Indicative of an iron
will. His form, vigorous, even with
the SHOWS of fifty winters, was clad in
dark, but rich and distinguished Co.'S
tune.
Talleyrand advanced, stated that he
was fugitive, and under the impress
sion that the gentleman before him
was an American, he solicited his kind
feeling and offices, poured forth his his
tory In eloquent French and broken
English. ,...
s'I am wanderer-an exile. [ am
forced to fly to the New World, with
out friend or hope. You are an
American. Give me, beseech you,
letter of yours, 80 that may be able to
earn my bread. am willing to toll in
any manner; the scenes Of Paris have
titled me with such horror, that Il lite
OF labor would be paradise to career
OF luxury In France. You will give
me letter to one of your friends. A
HA9tls9Epan like you has doubtless many
The strange gentleman rose. With
a look at Talleyrand never forgot, he
retreated towards the door Of the next
chamber, his head still downcast his
eyes looking still from behind his dark
ened brow. He spoke as he retreated
backwards-his voice was tull OF moan
ing.
II am the only man born in the New
World who can rise his hand to God
and say, have not friend, not one In
all AmerioaP'
Talleyran d never forgot the over
whelming sadness of the look that ac-
cOmpanied these words.
"Who are your" he cried, as The
strange gentleman retreated towards
the next room. "Your name?"
My name with q smile that had
more mockery than joy in its convul-
sive expression--"My name is Benedict
Arnold !" ........
He has gone. Talleyrand sank in a
chair, gasping the words
"Arnold, the Traitor! one who has
betrayed his country" ...
Thus Arnold wandered over the
earth, another Cain, with q wanderers
mark on his brow. Even in the Sc
cluded room, at that inn of Havre, his
crime found him ont, and for ced him to
tell his namc--that name the synonym
of infamy. .... ....
The last twenty years Of fArnold's life
were covered with cloud from whose
darkness but few CLEANS of light
flaoh out upon the page pf history.