Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1883-05-10

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There was nothing that had been touched by
value in her eyes. The trees he had plant
ed, the bowers he had formed, all had a
meaning to her that no one else could
understand; and yet upon each one of
these and upon her whole heart and life
seemed written, "the glory has departed" :"
1t is time to 60 back to the days of NJ.
Valentin, and see what became of the fond
husband, the courageous adventurer. At
first he was almost distracted at the thought
of parting with Hortense; but once the
Rubicon passed, he became more calm: A
few years he thought would find them
together, never to part; and perhaps they
Full of hope he went to the mines of
Australia. Day by day he wrought there,
enduring harships unheard of before, but
bearing them with the courage and forth
tude OF a hero. Ever before him was the
word Hortense. It nerved his arm in the
rough mines, when he struck his iron into
the gold-giving soil; it soothed him when
he lay burning with fever in a rude shanty
in the mountains; his thought by day and
his dream by night was still his own Hor-
tense. Not word, however, ever reach
ed him from her; and often he shuddered
at the fearful probabilities that arose to his
mind. Hortense might be sick, suffering;
might deem him dead or unfaithful; no,
that could never be-she would have faith
in him as in the sun. Come what would she
could not be shaken in her trust. But as he
lay in his miserable shed which held his
sick bed he would have given worlds for
one glance from her eye, one pressure OF her
hand to show that he was not forgotten,
and as he watched the stars over his head ;
shining through the crevices of the low root,
he thought that if Hortense were dead she
would appear to him then in his need.
The rude miners were too intent on gain
to watch beside his bed, and many were the
long days and nights in which he lay
unattended. Aid came at last in the shape
of child-a young boy whose father was
at work in the mines, and whose mother
supported herself and child by washing.
Hours did little Ben Cole sit beside him,
watching every movement and trying TO
give him ease; or, bringing water from
the spring, he would bathe his fevered
forehead with his little hands. A tender
nurse indeed was little Ben, and on his
recovery M. Valentin made the laundress
happy by providing for the boy.
M. Valentin had been richly rewarded
for his enterprise. Gold had showered in
upon him in almost fabulous profusion, and
now he seriously thought returning home.
Somewhat enfeebled by his late illness, he
was struck with dismay at again being
prostrated, and to find that his disorder was
the dreaded smallpox. That he lived
through this was only because his constltu-
ton was so excellent that even this enemy
could not vanquish it. He did live, but his
own mother could not have known him, so
deeply Scared and disfgured had he be-
come With his first returning strength he
set out for home. Hortense! Montreal
were now the beginning and the end of his
aspirations. One only thing marred his
ioy on the homeward route. Would Hor-
tense love the Scared and disfgured face
that looked at him from the little glass in
the cabin? Would she endure the long
shaggy beard by which he was enabled to
cover a part of the deep scars?
He had taken passage in an American
vessel bound for New York. He arrived
safely, and the next hour saw him on his
way to Montreal. He bent his course to the
neighborhood where Hortense had proposed
going after his departure. He inquired ev-
erywhere for Madame Valentin. No one
knew her. He himself was not recognized,
even when he haunted the old places of
business. Another name, of course, was
upon the familiar door and hither he turned
his steps, to see if haply some old friend OF
former days might not have heard of her.
Even the name was unremembered or pre-
tended to be; and yet the person he asked
was one whom he remembered as plotting
zealously to be invited to his dinner parties.
"They will remember me when they find
I am rich again." said Valentin to himself,
bitterly.
He turned into by-street and saw beg
gar sitting in the sunshine, 1T was the most
cordial and happy face that had met his
Gaze since he CAME back. The man did not
ask for anything either, nor show him the
withered arm that hung loosely under his
coat; and, hopeless as the question seemed,
he thought he would ask it.
AS he dropped money into the ragged hat
that lay on the ground beside the beggar,
he said, carelessly:
Can you tell me where Madame Valentin
lives now, my man."
81 used to know her when she lived in
Queen street. Was that the one?'
1t was the street where NJ. Valentin's
grand house stood.
s'She is gone from that house, but she did
not forget old Jack, and many's the penny
she has given me since. Glad enough was
1 when | heard she was married again."
''Marriedw exclaimed M. Valentin.
"Bless you, sir, yes; married to MIR. Stan
bury; but, poor man, he died year ago"
"Do you know where she lives now"
"Somewhere out of town. l don't 60 so
far now am so old. think tits in Blooms
bury Place, West Terrace"
TO paint NJ. Valentin's feelings would be
a HOPELESS task. Hortense married, but
still free A painful revulsion took place in
his mind, and he resolved, as all seemed to
forget him, that he would not yet discover
himself.
That night he visited the neighborhood
80 uorfnrcn hury,> on the door
and managed to secure the next house,
which happened to be quite empty, and
having its garden adjoining hers. The next
day he furnished it richly, brought num-
ber of servants, bought a fine carriage and
horses, and under the name of Richie, he
settled down to watch at his leisure the
movements of his neighbor He chose all
his private rooms on that side of the house
that overlooked hers.
The first time that he saw her was in the
garden. She looked still handsome, but
very sad and pensiye. He wondered II 1T IT
was for his loss or her late husbands. He
soon became satisfied that she lived very
retired and quiet life; that she had little
company and kept early hours. 1t was ear
ly spring, but he had plenty of flowers and
fruit in the greenhouse, and he sent some
for acceptance with Mr.. RICHES compE-
ments. Again and again he repeated the
gifts, and each time with a selection that
marked delicate taste.
Hortense was charmed with her new
neighbor whom she had not seen.
The flowers had been sent several times
when he added to them a request that he
might call on the lady. She returned ia
vorable answer, and under the cover of the
twilight hour he found himself in the room
with Hortense. The sound of his voice fill
ed her with indescribable emotion, because