San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1883-02-15

the invitation, but upon the page was
traced a symbol with which, as
member of one of the patriotic secret
societies, the artist was familiar.
There was no janitor, said the I'M
known writer, and the halls were un-
lighted, so the visitor was to furnish
himself with dark lantern, ascend to
the fourth floor, and knock at q door
indicated by cross chalked on the
panel.
David kept his strange tryst punct,
ually-too punctually for 1t was not
vet quite midnight when he reached
the Rue Saint Jacques.
vi.
AT the door bearing the chalked
cross he knocked-first gently, then
loudly, but receiving no answer he'
fancying that he had been made the
victim Of practical joke, was about
to quit the house when the door of
the adjoining room was opened and
girl appeared at it with light in her
hand. She glanced at him for an. in
slant, turned pale and stammered:
What! Nj. David, is it you9"
The sculptor wat not less surprised
to recognize in the startled, handsome,
woman, his model of so many years
before.
go! hurry away from here!" she
whispered breathlessly. Away, or
you are a dead man! Go! ask me
nothing; do not betray me and my
mother; only fly! l never thought it
was you'll
David understood from her earnest
ness he was in no ordinary peril, and
swiftly and noiselessly left the house,
but curious to solve the mystery con-
nected with the whole matter, con-
oealed himself in doorway neal. by,
and as the clock struck ~ saw two
men glide stealthily in the street, look
cautiously around them and he
building,
II have always fancied" he used to
say, when telling the story, "that 1
recognized in one of them my muir
derer.' "
VII.
Some years later, when he CHANGED
to be in that quarter of Paris, David
resolved tovisit the house, land ascend
lug to the fourth floor, knocked at
the door of the room formerly occu-
pied by his model. He found it ten
anted by an artisan who had never
heard of her, nor were her name and
description familiar to any one in the
house.
When the artist atElast saw N.'her it
was in August, lS43, while following
to the grave the remains of his broth
er sculptor, Cortot. A woman of
thirty, handsome, though thin, pallid
and haggard and meanly clad, shew
hurrying along the street bearing I'M
der her arm the bronze medallion he
had given her in 1927. For moment
he was tempted to leave the ranks
Of the funeral procession andSfollow
the woman; often he regretted that
he did not obey his impulse, for,
though he made diligent search of all
jhe dealers shops, he never came on
the trace of the bronze Christ.
subsequently, from time to time,
ne caught glimpse of the woman,
sunk to the lowest depths of Partisan
vice, prematurely decrepit, gray,
but always retaining
marked traces of the classic beauty
which many years before had SO i'm
pressed Hugo and himself. When he
asst saw her it was in July, 1857,
when a squaid and horribly disfg-
lred woman accosted him in the Rue
les Boucheriss.
you do not recognize me, M. Da-
7id?" she said. Il do not wonder,
or was handsomer when you knew
ne. Look here-a jealous lover, who
Used to rob and beat me gave me
his scar, and this, and this, and al
most murdered me. l couldn't go
low and pose for the Young Greek
Is 1 used to do in the Rue de Fleu-
u.s." Shuddering at the despairing
aughter with which she uttered these
words, the artist gave the miserable
.reature what small coins were III his
Nurse, and passed on. As he turned
he corner he saw her arrested for
by the police and borne
way toward the Abbey.
VIII.
After the coup d etdt hefound himself
me of the prescribed, thanks in part
o his known republicamsm, and thanks
possibly il part TO his refusal to finish
he tomb of Queen Hortense after her {