The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1880-12-24
THE GOLD SOVEREIGN.

1t was the croupier's hoarse cry, again
and again reiterated, only diversified
with that of "red loses!' which broke
the stiffness in the superbly appointed
room at Homburg, with the gaming
gathered its votaries, behind whom were
the scarcely less interested group of
lookers-on.
"Come away, my DEAR" said very
lovely woman among the spectators, in a
whisper, to her husband. 81 am sorry
that we came. This is no place for Pearl, >
indicating with nod of the head, as she
spoke, an exquisitely beautiful girl,
scarcely more than a child, of some
twelve or thirteen summers, who stood
beside them
''Come, Pearl" the father said.
But the girl stood entranced, her eyes
fixed upon mans face, seated at the
farthest end of the table. 1t was a
strikingly handsome face, even when
wearing. as it now did, an expression of
calm, born of desperation. No tinge of
color was in either cheek or lips.
His eyes shone with strange and
hard glitter, and were fixed upon the
balls as they swung round, as though on
the color uppermost hung his hope of
life or DEATH
And so it was. He had sat down pos
sessed of O fortune; he arose O beggar!
Fate had steadily pursued him with mock
ing hopelessness, until he had placed his
stake, only to sec it mercilessly swept
from him.
He half arose from the table. What
more was to be done, save to go out some
where into the still night air and send a
bullet through his heart or brain.
1t was at this moment the girl, with
flushed cheeks and half-parted lips,
darted up to his side.
'"Take this" she pleaded, ''for my
sake" and pressed gold piece into his
hand.
He turned. To his excited magma
ton she seemed scarcely mortal in her
pure child-like loneliness. His first i'm
pulse was to return her offering-he was
not yet an aims taker-but again rang
out the croupier's cry of command to
place the stakes.
expectancy, her eyes burning with fever.
ish interest.
A sudden impulse overmastered him.
Without speaking word, he placed the
gold upon the table.
The next minute n small pile of gold
was at his elbow. He staked it all again.
And he won. A bright spot of scarlet
replaced the pallor in his cheek, which
spread and deepened as Dame Fortune,
who had so persistently frowned
upon him, now reserved for him only
her smiles.
Morning was breaking when he rose
from the tables, no longer a desperate
man, but with his fortune three.fold re-
turned TO him.
After his first winning he had turned to
return to the child her offering, but she
had vanished. Should he ever find her,
ever repay the debt? He knew not; but,
standing at last out under the clear, blue
sky, with great weight lifted from his
heart and brain, Harold Clayton vowed
that it should be his life-search, but that
the lesson taught him should never be
forgotten, and the gaming-tables should
know him never more.
Six years passed, and Harold Clayton
was winning name and fame in his own
land, i'll his profession as an artist.
Standing one night in crowded as
scmbly, some one in passing touched
him lightly on the arm with her fan, and
glancing around, he met the smiling face
of his hostess.
Come" she said, "T want to present
you tony belle. If you can prevail upon
her to give you sitting, and transfer her
coloring to canvass, you will render your
self immortal"
lis she, then, so beautiful" he ques-
toned.
Judge for yourself she lightly re-
joined, leading him to little group doing
homage to the fair girl in its center.
"Miss Reyburn-Mr. Clayton" were
the formal words of the introduction, 40
Harold bowed in acknowledgment be-
fore the woman whom his artistic eye con-