The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1880-04-15

he trolled rollicking ditty with amor
Gus lips and the glow Of the fire warm
on his ruddy cheek. But suddenly he
turned his light hazel eyes on her, the
sheen of the flames in them, and .
touch of shame came over him.
INA amselle Eulalie,' he said, can
I do anything for your
- am come gasped the girl, mot
in anger, Antoine, but only to hear the
truth from your own lips. Is it true
that you marry Therese Dufresne next
weekr
"Her face turned ashy pale as she
spoke, and she grasped the door-sill with
feeble hands to support herself.
"Antoine was embarrassed and silent.
"You see, Mile. Eulalie,' he said,
Struggling his shoulders, and holding
out bis hands in deprecating way,
you were scarcely the girl to suit q
man like me. You are so trail and deli
cate-almost like lady"
Antoine, was well and happy till
I knew YOU
"And, wringing her hands together,
the dying girl looked in his face for
pity. But there was none. There was
only rough kind of shame in the man,
and q feeling of irritation that she
should dare to come there and reproach
him with her pale face.
go You had better 90 home, madamoi-
selle; the villagers will wag their
to me now
".The truth! the truth! Teltme the
truth, Antoine; that is all I ask
"'Well, then, since you will have it
yes; marry Mile. Therese.'
''And as he spoke his brides name
there shone in his pale eyes that amor
Gus light and CLEAN of triumphant pas
sion that in days gone by had fallen
upon her face in warm rays, when he
stopped to kiss her, or when beneath
the summer shade of trees they had
walked hand in hand talking of their
love.
"Down upon the anvil came the stall
wart blow Of his great hammer, and,
adding discourtesy to his cruel words,
he turned his back on her, whistling at
his work. It needed but this to break
her heart. She left the door faint and
sick with woe. uttering no word of
anger, breathing no rash prayer to
Heaven to avenge her cause.
"And yet the vengeance came: The
month of May broke in upon us fiercely
hot. Snow melted hurriedly on the
hills, flooding valley aud meadow as
with q sea, and as this dried in the sun,
leaving many sluggish pool. fever fell
upon the villages that lay nestled in the
deep glens. :,
tween great cliffs. Well, the fever fell
there first and in three days ten men
and women. hale and hearty, dropped
before it as the corn falls before the
sickle.
lin the evening Therese Dufresne
walked with her lover, counting the
hours to their wedding. In the morn
ing she lay on her bed, stricken, raving,
dying. Her father sent for Antoine,
but she did not know him. With
frenzied hands she pushed him from
her, and died raving of some old lover
gone for a soldier and lying blind in the
hospital at Client.
.And now the blacksmith was a
marked man. People cried, "A judg-
ment" and his forge grew silent and
deserted. Meanwhile Eulalie persisted
day by day, like flower whitening in
the wind. And whether it was re-
morse or time-serving fear, or return
of love, know not, but in q few short
weeks after Therese's death Antoine
wooed her again to be his wife and she
consented"
Thus the cures tale ended, and I,
looking sorrowfully in his face, sat
silent, then walked homeward musing
on many things.
They were married, but went not to
the wedding, and for many days l
shouldered my basket early and wan
dered to the deepest and farthest glens,
throwing my line idly in the
stream, but oftener sitting on the bank
watching the riplets flow and the rushes
wave.
So month went by; and every even
ing when returned and laid down my
empty basket, with smile that hid q
sigh, [ heard that she was worse.
"She is dying fast, now," said my
housekeeper. Poor thing! she is worn
to a very shadow. saw her yesterday
in the cemetery, leaning on her hus-
bands arm, choosing her grave. There
we're tears on his cheek. All! he has
his share now of grief, as it is fitting
he should have. And hear they are
very poor. People go miles away TO
another forge rather than go to him"
''Poor'' I said. And there rose up
in my throat so strange sob that for a
moment no other word would come.
Then. hiding my face in shadow, /
babe her take hastily all needful things
to her.
mo, stay-not to her. Take them
to her mother, and let her take them to
her daughter
Then, sitting lonely by my wood fire,
l thought bitterly of the empty shad-
ows of this world, and how strange it
was that should send bread in charity
to one whom, in foolish dreams, 1 had
clothed in satin and jewels and honored
as Queen.
A few days further on, when heard
she would leave her bed no more, there
came upon me silly longing to see
her face. After many thoughts and
with my wish spoke to her
mother of this.
~ had ever been her FRIEND" said.
"Might l see her and say farewell?''
The mother looked at me with fright
ened eyes. "She could not tell" she
Antoine had grown SO
fierce, she dared not ask him. Some
how, since he knew he must lose his
wife and she slipped from his grasp
into Deaths, he loved her with a
stronger, fiercer love than ever in his
passionate days he had given to
Therese, and he begrudged every word
and look given to another. He was
jealous even of her,
And the woman went her way, weep
ing as she went.
Now l was bitter. indeed. So this
coarse man, who had killed my pretty
flower, was her master in death as in