Litchfield enquirer., 1881-02-10

Ak .G+CffESfz ! fpl progress. I had proof of this for thefirss tune, during the journey to Psria.Goi weL
 ''WLen the train in which waahad passed the Belgian frontiersand entered French ter ritory, railway employee got into our car- rlage to examine the tickets. He had a re- tTdctory face. was looking with interest and pity at one who, knew, was fated to die young, when 1 suddenly perceived red line crossing his forehead like the trace of some ! fearful wound. .sdl could hot take my eyes off him as long as heb remained near our carriage, and watched him at every station when the train stopped. Wherever he passed he seem- ed to find friends, with whom he exchanged 1greetingsI He never appeared ina hurry. He Wquld quietly, let the etrain start, and then, fof his carnage with an adroitnsss which de. noted long habit, and 50 get ini.' At St. uA Auentinahe delayed tooalong. 'a Iswas watching him out of the carriage. .windeW.iI It was lonly oy running as fast as he could that he man. aged to get up to the last carriage I saw him leap on to the step;1I saw his feet touch 1t: his hand sought hold and found none: he staggered and fell. ...s,I heard cry which was soon drowned in the shriek of the engine. The guard had noticed the accident aud stop. ped the train. Some of the officials jumped on the line, and ran towords the spot where
 
 they were carrying corpse. The poor fell low had fallen head foremost on the metals. and had fractured his skull On the forehead there was terrible wound.eo gsaj s9J.y sii
 ''Could still believe that all this was onlyI the creation of diseased braln? No. That was no longer possible, though my reason rs- belled against the notion of admitting the su-i perDatural as positive truth. Could it be- chance that had shown me in imagination three living beiDgs;under the aspect that they were to wear in reality after death No. Others might believe it, others might call my second-sight hallucination, and try to explain It by saying that my over-excited brain creat- cd images with sucli vague outlines, that could fancy he'd already seen certain things, which, in reality, l was perceiving for the first time. But I could d.not rest satisfied with such explanations. U was constrained to ac- Knowledge, on the contrary, that-fearfdP and mysterious as it was-I possessed the balefnl gift of recognizing those who were lated to die young, and of even discerning in certain cases the peculiar marks foreshadowing their mode Of death. Thus, I had seen Alexis and Sophie; thus, when he was seated beside me, had seen the murderer Bechouard with up- turned eyeS-the eyes of a corpse and in like manner again, whenever looked at Drieux, saw the. mark on his heart of mortal wound. ........,..... .. ...., 4.
 "After my duel with our poor friend, felt new life return. 1 had been possessed by the idea that l would kill hlm if ever eneoun- tered him. sword in hand. We had met, we had fought, and he it was who had wounded me: l blessed him for it. persuaded my self that since had been mistaken once, that was proof that my second sight was not in fallible. Why should l not be mistaken hundred times? Why not always? That fatal gift, which had fancied mine, was not real; it was an offspring of-my diseased imagina. tion,-a fearful dream that time and exper- fence were dispelling Thus argued, and felt relieved. I was eager for happiness life once more seemed 50 attractive hoped to be able to enjoy it in peace. Yesterday, this morning-nay, few hours ago, hoped still Now 1t is all over. 7. 1 know that Drieux has been murdered; that he died as had forseen that was not mistaken; that cannot, alas! be mistaken. And know, with absolute certainty, that too must die soon. l have nothing more to hope for in life. All is lost, irrevocably lost 1" :.' ;.''5
 As he said these last words, stachowittch sank back in his chair, and, burying his face in his hands, burst into tears. In vain sought to quiet him. At last, finding all argument useless, called in his servant. The old man began to talk to him gently in Russian, and at last prevailed upon him to go to bed, 1 ran to the doctor, who was an old acquaintance of mine. had some difficulty in gaining admit tance to him at that late hour, but at my ur- gent entreaty he at last consented to return with me to Stachowitch's bedside. This lat- ter lay in troubled sleep; the doctor discov cred all the symptoms of violent fever, and after prescribing some remedies to be applied n loff ly the next morning.
 lpassed the greater part of the night at my friends bedside. At daybreak, feeling my. self overcome by sleep, and seeing, moreover, that Stachowitch was sleeping calmly, went home, after charging the Russian servant not to leave the room. =, ....e t5 -e" -.'
 It was rather late when woke the next morning. dressed hurridly and hastened to Stachowitch's house. The porter stopped me at the foot of the stairs.
 ''There is nobody Upstairs, he said ''the Count and his servant left this morning at seven"
 "What! Gone Where are they gone?"
 Il cannot say. The Count passed before my Ioge without even looking at me; the ser- want, who carried small portmanteau, said, We are going away for few days' That's all l know; not much. as you see; but then. if every lodger .'."g, ..sta. s1a s1''
 dld not wait for more, but went at once. to Stachowitch's sister. Madame la Comtesse is not at home, ,"I was told There was left for me to do, but to go on to Madame de Bau.I dy's. was admitted at once, and before could utter word, she asked me in an agitat- ed voice, Have you come to explain what this means?" 7f' sS HE
 At the same time she handed me an open letter which contained only. few hurried lines :-
 II am obliged to forego the happiness of all my life. Do not accuse me; am innocent. Pity me; am unhappy. Comfort Marie. ,
 ''BoRIs STAoHowTToH." e
 What was the use of explanations2 The on-, ly excuse could offer for my poor friend was to confess that thought him mad That would have done him no good, nor would it have comforted Madame de sBaudy er; her niece. did not care to cut off Stschowitch from all hope. Who could tell ?. Matters might be arranged perhaps. I merely said, therefore. that, he had been seized with violent fever the day before, and had left Paris that same morning. pointed out that his letter bore evident traces of great excitement and that too much importance should not be at- tached to it. Finally. entreated Madame de Baudy not to condemn her. niece's future hus- band without hearing from him more fully. Ao'in6 ehu0 utoCaoiRcu ny uuty dS pcdCc- maker, 1 took my leave to avoid further Ques- tioning or useless recrimination. t, ..-s 2.
 Time passed, and heard nothing nore of Boris Stachowitch. 1 called several times on the Countess de Villiers, and was invariably informed that she was not athome. came, at last to the conclusion that it was painful to her to speak of her brothers illness, and ceas ed my visits but as felt deep interest in the young Russian, wrote to the Countess to ask news of him. She answered at once, but her letter told me nothing new.
 My brother is ill, she wrote, land by the advice of his physicians he has gone to reside on one of my fathers estates in Southern Russia. He seems to be progressing. if not rapidly at any rate uninterruptedly, towards recovery: It will give me great pleasure to communicate again with you, as soon as I have better news to tell. I hope it may be soon."
 ] Years have gone by since then. Madame de Villers has not ''giVen- herself thelpleas- tNPa <nf n