The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1881-11-11

on Une SlOHe HOOT Oh our tuffcJ room,
and when we brought him to life he was
in a raging fever.
Old Felehaza and bathed his head
and gave him the simple beverage made
from the sweet verbena, and she wept as
she saw how he looked like his mother,
but the old Baron glared at him with his
red eyes, and said that che was sham
ming--the fever, he had it not--no," and
yet he paced the room like an angry wolf
all night.
The next week Ernst came home and
we had long consultation.
had more learning and more knowl-
edge Of business than my brothers, and
in the sales of our wines ] had become
acquainted with wine merchant of
Pesth, who had once offered to send me
to Paris on his business Leaving Lud.
wig in the care of Ernst and Felehaza
| rode off to see him one day, and after
an hours talk / was driving over the hills
to railway station, on my wayto Paris.
The world opened its great walls for the
boy of nineteen to look at, and the past
and present mingled in curious dream
Sometimes my mother came and en-
circled me in her arms; sometimes the
old father Ambrose, at the convent, came
and put crucifix at my lips; some
times | saw Ludwig dying. and again |
saw Lucille, the woman | loved-the
woman he loved-and a great darkness
came over me.
1t was in "a beautiful salon in Paris that
Lucille received me. She did not know
me in my French clothes, my hair cut
close to my head, nor should have
known her but for her voice, so pale and
sad and shadowy she looked
"Oh! Erlody! Erlody" said she, sadly
and she threw herself into my arms
and kissed me. The first and the last
time!
Her mother came down, fine French
lady, all Grape, and very grand Madame
Zichy.
at was who was so romantic, said
she; IL was the French companion who
induced your mother, my lovely Rou-
manian schoolmate, to run off with the
gallant Austrian officer, your father! All!
dear, dear! 1t led to sad trouble am
wiser now, and have made better,
much better arrangement for my Lucille.
Yet she droops, she droops. 1t was so
kind of you to take her as visitor when
we were so disturbed here last summer
Her father (you know Erlody, mean
Count Iicy) was cousin, twice removed
of your dear, dead mother-yes, you
have her golden hair, your mothers
though you are Wolf-yes, Wolf
as to your face"
'.He is not one at heart" said Lu-
cille
There was in my luggage roll of
canvas, and in my care a consignment
of wine from the hillside vineyard, let
ter from Frere Franz and one from the
wine merchant at Pesth.
1t was not long before the widow
Zichy was convinced that Lucille would
never marry the gentleman she had
picked out for her, and that her daugh
ters health required change of air.
1t was not long before Ludwig's pic
lures were sold, and some of his wine
had been tested in Paris, that market of
the world, and had been pronounced a
choice variety.
With my pockets full of gold l turned
my face toward Vienna. One more act
to be done, and then-and then.
The story which my father had never
told me was fully told me by the mother
of Lucille. He had been imprudent but
not guilty. He had been deeply wronged.
1t was possible that the cashiered officer
might be restored to his placein society;
that was my errard to Vienna.