Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1882-03-04

disputing it. His position was indeed ex.
ceptionally disastrous; he could not claim
his title of Count Labinski, under the
form in which he was imprisoned. He
would naturally be regarded as an insolent
impostor, or at best mailman. Even his
wife would fail to recognize him under this
strange mask. How was it possible to
prove his identity +? There were certainly
a thousand trihing circumstances, a thou
sand little details known only to Plascovie
and himself, which, if recalled TO her,
would enable her to recognize her husband,
notwithstanding his disguise but of what
value would be this isolated connection,
even should he obtain it, opposed, as it
would be, to universal opinion? He was
actually. unquestionably, deprived of his
identity. Sill another harrassing suspense:
was this transformation limited to outward
appearance only? Or was he absolutely
occupying the body of another man ? In
this case, what had become of his own
Had it been consumed by quicklime, or
| had it become the property of another
| His double seen at Hotel Labinski might
be only a spectre, vision but it might
also be living man who had feloniously
appropriated his personality with an infer
nal skill possibly this demon of a physi-
! clan.
A frightful Mea flashed through his
brain. and seemed to pierce his head. ike
the fangs of q serpent: This false
Count Labinski, this vampire who is now
established in my hotel, whose orders are
obeyed by my servants in contradiction to
mine-psrhaps ne is even now by the side
| of Plascovie, who, utterly deceived, takes
him for me-for her husband, this wretch,
this fend I" For few moments he was
beside himself, but, gradually becoming
more calm, he reasoned with himself
1.-THE age Of sorcerv and magic had passed
the tie between soul and body was severed
by death alone it was not possible in the
nineteenth century, in the heart of Paris,
to beiuggle in this fashion a man accredited
with his millions at Rothschild's, Polish
Count connected with the noblest families,
married to a woman Of fashion and the
whole thing would prove to be mere
practical joke Of NJ. Balthazar Cherbon-
neau's, in very bad taste, unquestionably,
but still only joke, and one which would
explain itself most naturally like all the
horrors of Mrs Radcliff's novels"
Exhausted with fatigue and excitement,
he threw himself on Octave's bed, and was
soon sleeping heavily, motionless, till Jean
came in bringing the letters and journals
to his master, who, as he supposed, was
already awake.
The Count opened his eyes and gazed
curiously around He was in simple but
very comfortable room carpet in imita-
ton of leopard skin covered the floor car
tains Of tapestry, which Jean had just
drawn, draped the windows and concealed
the doors the walls were hung with a
heavy cold green paper like cloth. A clock
formed OF block of marble, mounted In
platina, surmounted by Cables Diana, re-
duced by Barbidienne, in oxidized silver;
a pair OF antique vases, also in oxldiZad
silver decorated the white marble mantel
the Venetian mirror, in which the Count
had the evening before discovered that he
no longer possessed his own personality,
and portrait of an elderly lady, painted
by Flandrin-probably Octave's mother
were the sole ornaments of the room, which
was somewhat severe and depressing. 4
divan, an easy chair drawn near-th Chin
ney, a table with drawers, covered with
books and papers, all suggested comfort and
convenience, but nevertheless strong con.
trast to the luxury and sumptuous appoint
ments of the Hotel Labinski
His toilet completed, Jean, without
doubt of the identity of the false Octave
de Saville, asked his master at what hour
be would breakfast
cat the usual hour" answered the
Count who had resolved to accept without
protest his incomprehensible transforma-
ton, that he might carry out, unmolested,
all his plans for the establishment OF his
identity.
As Jean left the room, Olaf de Saville
opened the two letters lying with the
morning papers, hoping TO learn something
from them. The first contained friendly
reproaches for neglect, and regrets that old
friendly intercourse had ceased without ap-
parent reason, and was signed by name
entirely unknown to him. The second was
certain amount of capital which had been
lying unemployed in his hands for some
time.
"Ah it seems, then, that the Octave de
Saville, whose body l inhabit against my
will, actually exists. He is not chimera
he has an apartment, friends, a lawyer,
tutes the circumstances of gentleman.
4NCsCLtbCtroSf quite SURE lusL
Count Olaf Labinski"
A glance at the mirror, however, proved
to him that no one would share his convic-
ton; in the strong daylight and the quiv-
ering flames Of the candles the reflection
was the same.
IL his tour of inspection he opened the
table drawers. In one he found the title
deeds, two notes-one for thousand
francs, the other for fifty louis-both of
which he appropriated without any scrup!e
as means to carry out his campaign and
in another Russia leather portfolio, fast
ened securely by secret lock.
Jean entered, announcing NJ. Alfred
Humbert, who, rushing into the room with
the familiar freedom of an old friend, with
cut waiting for reply, exclaimed
GOOD morning, Octave. What in the
world has become of you? Are you dead
or alive? never see you anywhere You
do not even answer a note. | suppose /
ought to stand on my dignity, only upon
my honor cannot, and 1 don't believe in
amour propre between friends and, to tell
the truth, l want to see you. l want to
shake hands with you. can't leave an
old classmate to die of melancholy in this
dismal town, as lugubrious as Charles VS.
cell in the monastery. You say you are
dull, stupid-that is all. On hol dare
say, but you must have some amusement.
l insist upon it; and l am come to carry
you off to Gustave Raimbaud's last bachelor
breakfast
All this was in a half.vexed, half
amused tone; and the handsome fellow,
with a frank, cordial expression, stood
shaking the Counts hand vigorously all the
while he was speaking.
"No, thanks, answered Plascovies hus-
band, entering into the spirit OF his role.
" am not feeling as well as usual to-day
! am not in the mood for society. l shall
only bore you all.
You are looking pale and worn. Better
success next time l must be off. l am
already little late, !" said Alfred, turning
toward the door. Raimbaud will be
sorry not to see you"
This visit only added to the Counts dis.
tress. Jean took him for his master, Alfred
for his friend. Sill another proof was
given him. The door opened; lady with
gray hair, and having a marked resem.
blance to the portrai. on the chimney, en-
tered and seated herself on the sofa, say.
inc