The National tribune., 1882-08-12
THE
CONSPIRACY OF THE WATCHES.
BY EDWARD SPENCER.

BY EDWARD SPENCER.
Yes, this is nay room. ana here for safe
keeping, and they are probably right to put
me here / certainly am a little queer at
times. have trouble, and you know some
times it flies to the head, and then / am
queer. I do odd things and make absurd
sneecheg-remarzs that might be miscon-
strued. 1t is the trouble, of course, for l
am naturally light-hearted and cheerful. Oh,
Won wouldn't believe how cheerful! I was
nrettv. too once; but that was a long time
ago. before the trouble came, when l was
eighteen years old, and still called the
demoiselle Aline Richet, daughter of old
father Richet, $50 every one called him.
clerk to the archives of the department l
was considered the prettiest girl in st.
Brion. At least, there was but one who had
anv claims to rival me- and that was Mar
celipe Hon. the fisherman's daughter-she
about whom the great scandal was. But
her style of beauty was not to my taste,
you Know, for all her splendid color and
wealth of black hair, her grand form and
her shapely ankle There wss that in her
bold. black eye which l did not like, and
she was forward and free with the men.
And it is no wonder that when that young
artist came to the coast to sketch sea views,
and put nothing but pictures of Mar
celine in his sketch-bool, people wagged
their heads and talked. did not, however,
for Marceline and / were always good
friends. albeit the difference in social rank
did not permit much intercourse be-
tween MS. But when, some months after
the artist went away, the poor little dead
baby was found buried on the shore just
where the tide came in, and Marceline was
nut under surveillance and interrOgated by
the police, I felt that it was my duty to
have no more to say TO her, although she
was acquitted. But she gave us no chance
to let her see what we thought of her, for as
soon as the police were done with her she
disappeared, and st. Brion saw her no more.
This much is to be said for Marceline
Hon. that she had no education, and her
people were bad lot, wild and dissipated.
So far l WAS much better off than she for
nobody was more respected nor respectable
than Pere Richet, and he had paid half his
small salary to have me educated at the
best pension in st. MalO. When / came
home at last and found how poor my dearie
old father had kept himself for me, took
the housekeeping in hand myself "Now,
Monsieur Richet," ! said, you shall live as
well as NJ le Prefect" And was for put
ting something in the cellar and larder too,
so that he might have genuine coffee and
wine every day, with a bottle of grand
win on holidays and Sundays, and salad and
poultry and all that. But not he! Still
stinting himself on eau sucre and chickory
coffee, under pretense of saving dot for me
out of his salary. 1t made me so indignant
that told him l would marry the first man
who came along, even if he had one eye and
a wooden leg.
Sure enough, presently came M. de Verdier,
and married him. Not for spite, though,
because 1 fell in love with him at first sight
And as for his eyes-perfect! And his
wooden leg-if you could only have seen
him waltz! Verdier was an engineer, come
to St Brion something about building a
railroad or pier. He was poor, but
well connected, esteemed in his profession
in short, everybody said it was a good
match. Bon Papa thought so too, am
sure, though he did not half like me
to marry man with whom it was I'D
and away, here and there any day in the
year. Poor Papa! he only lived year after
] put my first baby in his arms. He left nv
little boy, his namesake, all his savings. and
the good people of st. Brion all went to his
ancient clerk Of the archives
Verdier did not make money fast He
was what you might call half crazy about in
ventions, machinery, and such like, and sunk
many bag of francs in such schemes. /
told him often he would die and leave his
children paupers, not that believed it,
though. He had plenty to do, and of the
best kind, but in so many places. If had
named my children after the spots where
they were born my family would have been
quite an itinerary of the grande route.
There was Victor at st. Brion-Iet me see
Aline at Dion, Antoine at Bucharest, George
at Segovia, Clarisse at Foggia, Mathilde at
Bagm de Lucca-DuJ WhaI use 10 name
them over when all are dead? That is one
of my troubles, you see, and no slight one,
for they were such lovely children. George,
with his face like an-but-pdssOns! Let
lis not stop TO read the epitaphs, because
ones heart is a graveyard full of tombs-
Corpus D0miai ca8tOdiat dnimus iHds in gitanl
otcrRdm. AmcH!
1t was at Bagni de Lucca that Verdier
heard of the outbreak of the war for Italy.
He flung down his tools and hastened to
Nice, met the army there, and volunteered
to 20 with the Guides. Soon he had COM