Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1880-05-20
Hisrsllsag,
THE TWO FINGERS.

At the extremity Of a little hamlet
situated at no great distance from Tours
on the road between Paris and Bordeaux
was to be seen few years back pretty
little inn, with whitewashed walls and
swinging signboard. Extensive gardens
surrounded it and shut 1t out from the
neighboring houses. Thus isolated, and
rendered still more striking by its freshly.
decorated exterior. still farther set off by
window blinds Of IL bright green, it broke
upon the eye Of the traveller like one Of
those pleasant villas that adon the pictur.
esque shores OF the Loire. 1t is not, then,
to be wondered at that it should be the
fn7orite rosting-place for travellers, the
chosen hostelry Of postillions and con-
ductors, the mOst-approved rendezvous for
wealthy traders, whom pleasure or
business might conduct to its locality.
Nor did the interior of the inn belle the
inviting aspect Of its exterior. At the top,
the snuggest bedrooms were to let; on the
ground floor the dining room and the
kitchen with its wide fireplace, the two
separated by passage leading to the
outer door. Everywhere neatneSs and
order relgned paramount.
1t was in the kitchen Of the White
House-fOr so the inn was named-that
on a cold and rainy evening in the month
of November, 1878, NJ. Ebrard, the land
lord, and his three children, in company
with one of their neighbors, were seated
round bright wood fire, dlscoursing Of
their affairs, and enjoying the puif's OF
heat emitted by the glowing embers.
"Only listen to the rain!" said NJ.
Ebrard, after a silence Of more than usual
duration. "This is the third day that it
has poured incessantly, and there seems
no likelihood OF a change. looked at
the clouds this evening, and they were as
watery as everl Marie, go and fetch us
another bottle Of our particular-you
know, on the left, at the bottom of the
cellar"
At these words, uttered in harsh and
imperious tone, Marie instantly reused
herself from a sort Of reverle into which
she seemed 10 have fallen; she first threw
vague and undetermined glance upon
him who had thus abruptly summoned
her; then recalling, as by an inward ef-
fort, the Injunction of NJ. Ebrard, she rose
and left the apartment without uttering a
word.
Whoever had observed the young girl
while she lighted her lamp, repaired TO
the cellar, and brought thence the wine,
could not fail to have been struck with
the immobility Of her countenance, while
her deep reverie had caused her to re-
semble a statue oil marble-beautiful in.
deed, with features delicately formed, and
outlines gracefully delineatcd, but as in
animate and cold as the block whence
they seemed hewn. And it was on that
account that NJ. Ebrard pursued her con.
startly with his reproaches, and wearied
her with his gross pleasantries, for NJ.
Ebrard was not the father of Marie. She
was the daughter of a rich merchant, who
had died bankrupt, and her mother mar.
ried NJ. Ebrard in the hope OF securing a
home and protection for herself and help
less child.
"Come on, come on" said the landlord,
as soon as he saw Marie returning from
the cellar. "0nly just look at that face Of
hers! Does she not remind one of
picture OF the Magdalene, with her great
black eyes, and air of patient resigna.
tionp"
"Your health, M. Ebrard, "reioined the
arming himself with glass
three parts full.
At this moment two knocks were heard
the outer door, and the hands of the
and his comrade were suddenly
arrested in the very act of lifting their
glasses TO their lips. Marie gave a
nervous start that almost caused her to
leap out of her chair.
"Who can it be at such an hour of the
nightp" said Ebrard. at is no traveller,
unless the diligence Is greatly behind
time; and BESIDES"
Two knocks, more violent than before,
resounded through the kitchen. The
landlord rose uneasily, took a lamp,
crossed the passage that led to the outer
door, and, before opening it, demanded,
in a firm voice, "WEo's there?"
"a traveller; open quickly" was the
snonse from the outside.