The Democrat. (Scotland Neck, Halifax Co., N.C.) 1884-1896, 1885-05-14

at the young men, who, standing or
seated, also in pairs or threes. would dis
cuss the weather and the fishing and the
cattle. while always keeping the young
ladies in sight. A happy, pleasant pic
ture, and Peter Whitney looked on at the
scene with great delight.
He determined to give himself holi-
day. too. He could not do busipc7 nd
such a scene. So he made friends di-
rccily, and inquiries indirectly concern
ing the premises he had come to take
over and have transferred. He learned
that the house lay away from the village;
it was mere farmhouse amid trees, ell
closed by wall and paling 1t had
been untcnanted some time. The family
had sold everything, and quilted the
village some weeks before.
''They were poor?, said the English
man.
The man addressed shrugged his
shoulders as he replied:
"Wcll, not entirely. The good man
and his wife had died. His sister and
their daughter lived in the house till the
last harvest. The son was away in the
arm? of Africa. Young NJ. Desmoulins,
the miller's son, had paid much attcn-
tion to the young lady and had been re.
pulsed by her So, being the owner of
the property, he had taken his revenge
and managed to frighten them away.
Poor girl!
''But he had no right to do so," said
Whitney. The house was mortgaged
to an EngliShman-he is dead now. 1t
was handed over as security for advances
to the young soldiers father"
''That is as may be. The house is
closed up, the aifiches of the sale are on
the doors. 1t is deso!ate-empty."
''Is it far from here?''
"Well, 10. A walk oil perhaps half an
hour Or so will bring you there among
the trees yonder Yen see those tail
po plars. those to the eastward?'
Peter Whitney nodded assent.
Cup there you will find the place: it
stands above the road on your right
hand; a little path leads up to the house.
You cannot mistake it,"
'Thank you, monsieur" replied Wit
ney. Il think l will go and see it."
Peter Whitney made ms way toward the
poplars and passed them. He then
plunged into more wooded country and
the road tended southeast. Then he
came to gate and path on the right,
as indicated. He entered and assembled
the path, passing in the direction whence
he had come. But in moment he re-
coiled in astonishment.
Seated on ruined portion of wall
was young soldier, apparently on fur
lough. A small bundle lay beside him
in the rank grass; short stick was still
hooked within it. The mans attitude
exhibited the deepest detection. His
head rested. hatless, on his arm; his at
titude. the limp and hanging right arm,
the hidden face, the who'e pose of the
poor fellow, tod sad tale of disap-
pointment. He had returned full of life
and ar.lor to the place. perhaps his home,
and found it deserted-the torn bills of
the sale still Tapping idly in the autumn
wind which stirred his tangled locks.
''Poor chapr' Peter Whitney mentally
remarked; ''he has found his home de-
serted. Our house, by the way. All! l
shall gain some information here"
The spectator after awhile advanced,
and then paused. Again he advanced,
and touched the young man, who arose
with s,lddcnness, angry at being dis
turtcd.
He glanced at the Enghshman, and
turned round again without speaking.
'My FRIEND" said Mr.. Whitney kindly,
''can assist you2 You are ill. sorrow
full; 1 may help you. Do you know this
place."
Know the place, indeed! Was he not
native of it? Had he not lived there
until the cOnscription came, and when
he was paid to take the place of another
young man? The money was welcome.
So much the stranger managed to
gather from the haH-indignant remarks
of the soldier, who at length yielded to
the kindly influence the Englishman
generally exercised. He sat up, and
after few minutes recovered his vi
vacity He told how he had been
treated.
"You went as substitute, then?'
EYES; my relatives were poor; the
man had held out threats. l loved my
sister-oh! where is she? Monsieur, we
were not always poor; we held up our
heads once. My poor sister promised
Oh, Pulcherie.''
''Pulcherie your sister! Not Pulcherie
Malais2''
''The same. monsieur. How could you
know? You are English" said the as
tonished Frenchman.
eyes; but am also interested in this
house and in her. An English firm owns
this property; the rent has not been
paid the former owner, the Englshman,
is dead; all is chaos; but your sister"
eyes, yes; tell me of her."
'sShe is in London-was in London a
few days ago."
Then Peter Whitney told the young
man of his meeting with the young lady,
and of his having escorted her to Lin
coins Inn Fields.
''Ah, yes! it is there her benefactor
used to live. She has, do doubt, gone
to him. Our aunt knew him we'll. He
was a lawyer-un avocat"
''What! an English solicitor2 What
was his name?"
'tBcrnardin-M. Jules Rernardin-ho
was our friend. He helped us; he as
sisted my father-my poor father-and
lent him money on security. Then
father he died, and my mother had al
ready passed to heaven. My sister and
my aunt remained. Young NJ. Desmoul-
ms assisted US, for he pretended to love
Pulcherie, monsieur; and !, like fool.
went away and left her. His attentions
aroused the fears of my aunt and sister;
| could not come. Then they found the
wretch Desmouins had a claim on them;
he broke up their home. Oh, monsieur,
l wish had died"
49, xy:a.,., :, ot;ooA kbot tho vo,,nc