The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1881-11-09

for he watched his companions move.
ments and it did not seem admissible to
him that he had stolen letter. Never.
theless he hastened 60 depart, regret.
ting that he had entered the drinking.
house. The man who had chatted with
him inspired in him a veritable repul-
sion, and it was his rule, because of the
habits of discretion which the postofice
imposes upon all its agents, to keep at
distance all who do not appear to him
worthy of confidence.
The storm had somewhat abated its
fury, the rain soon ceased to fall and
bright sunshine lighted up the country
when the postman reached the nearest
village.
A woman was at the door of her house
awaiting his passage. She was still
young and, without possessing remark
able beauty, had q neat and sympa-
thetic countenance.
Monsieur Martini" said she TO the
dostman, have you letter for me ?"
No, Madam Andre, have not"
"Thats strange; my husband should
lave written to me to-day; YOU cannot
imagine how much his silence troubles
me-"
She grew pale and seemed scarcely to
have the strength to sustain herself.
The postman assisted her into the
house and handed her a chair upon
which she let herself fall. Two charm.
ing children fixed on her sad and anx-
ious looks.
"You will receive q letter to. morrow,
Madam Andre" said Pere Martin; "the
delay OF day is easily explained: your
husband was disappointed, some unfore-
seen business suddenly demanded his
attention and he missed the mail"
No; l know him and cannot under
stand his silence. You are aware that
he departed two months ago for the
| city. Some work Eas ta. a.besattaaaad$Q
which promised to Bring him in great
deal of money; small inheritance was
to be received. But all is concluded.
He sent me word that he would return
this evening; he had made his arrange
ments to that end. Tomorrow the farm
of La Name is to be sold; he has decided
to purchase either all OF part of it.
It is an opportunity which will, never
again present itself, but / would prefer
thousand times that he should miss it
to having him return without notifying
me-"
"Why ?"
Because some one has wicked de-
signs against him and at night q ter
rible blow is soon struck. You know
there are two routes by which to return
here one is longer than the other, but
safer. am afraid lest he may return
by way of the Moulin -Brule. the more
so as there is some one to see in that
thought OF it. If only knew"
The postman strove to calm her fears,
but she shook her head.
"You cannot think" resumed she,
what certain men are capable of when
they have grudge against anybody"
Sho seemed to hesitate, and then
added:
"If tremble it is not simply be-
cause my husband will have to pass
through dangerous spot with money
in his pocket, but because there is in
the district wretch whose dearest wish
is to put five feet of earth between
them.
"This hatred dates from long ago.
When I was young girl he wanted to
marry me, but he filed me with horror.
He has never pardoned me for having
repulsed his offers, and has enveloped
in the same animosity the man 1 pre-
ferred to him. He hates Georges and
myself for being in easy circumstances
while he vegetables in want, as if honest
people were responsible for the mis-
takes of idlers and drunkards. This is
not all. A crime was recently COM
mitted suspicious were aroused, but
the proofs were wanting. I possess
them, and the guilty man knows it. Ahl
it is dangerous secret for a woman
who has only children around her."
Yesterday he accosted me to sound
me; did not hide from him my con-
tempt. He saw clearly that he was un-
masked in my eyes; he overwhelmed
me with insults ard threats. took
the unfortunate notion to say to him
that soon, when my husband had re-
turned, when he had a man before him,
he would be less presumptuous. Oh |
if you knew what glances his eyes shot
at me, what an expression of hatred his
features wore know that often dur
ing the night he haunts the ruins of the
Moulin-Brule. If this man should dis
cover that my husband is to pass
through that place, I tell you, Monsieur
Martin, he is lostp
"What is the scoundrels name ?"
"Jean Bruno. It is not astonishing
that you are unacquainted with him, for
since his return to the district he has
not publicly shown himself"
The postman was silent. He remem-
bered having heard the woman at the
drinking house call the man he had met
there by that name. He asked himself
in CONSERVATION if the letter had not
been stolen from him, but he recalled
all the circumstances and banished this
supposition. He felt certsin that the
epistle had not been in his sack; he re-
assured himself and sought to reassure
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