The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1885-07-04

aud the uneasiness of the ladies became SO
great that the Countess herself regretted
having left St. Germain, where at least she
would have had frequent news from the
seat of war. -
The Countess passed almost entire days
and nights il sthe chapel, and her little
ones alone cobld2make her smile.
One evening. towards the end of August,
when the nights were growing long and
numberless stars traverse the heavens,
Diane, weary of looking at them, quilted
the balcony and sitting down opened at
random the book of the Astrologer. The
page on which her eyes fell had always
appeared incomprebensible to her; but now:
by a sudden intuition, she penetrated its
meaning.
''If this book speaks truth, /" she cried,
''there is in this very room spirit which
understands me. Invisible guest of the
chateau of my fathers thee, whose name
[ dare for the first time to pronounce
Orson if thou art there, strike three
blows p
She listened, and three dull blows on the
panelling replied to her.
Diane was descendant of the Crusaders
and was not easily frightened. Yet her
face grew pale, but she recovered herself
and said, with firm voice: "If thou canst
give me news of my brother, strike one
blow; if not, strike three"
Three blows were struck
"Thou art only foolish spirit, then,
cried Diane, angrily. "Must l evoke the
souls in Purgatory? If SO, strike one
blow"
One blow responded.
"Well," she cried, 'be it so [ must
know my brothers fate; and had TO call
UP all the other world [ would do so, by
the honor of a Boisbriand p
She turned over the leaves of the book,
placed on the table an hour-glass between
three lighted tapers, little before mid
night, commenced to read formula of
evocation in which she named all those of
her deceased relatives whose names she
could recollect.
Twelve o'clock changed forth from the
castle clock, and the moment the last grains
of sand were falling and that last vibration
of the clock lost itself in space, the violet
tapestry at the end of the room was slowly
lifted and a procession of phantoms entered
the room.
They grouped themselves silently around
Diane and lifting their winding sheets dis
closed their pale faces.
Daughter of the house of Boisbriand, y
said one of them, "why do you summon
our suffering souls ?"
Diane longed to question, but her voice
failed her. In Mortified silence she gazed
on these unknown visitants.
Suddenly she uttered a cry of anguish;
the noble face of her brother, of the Count
Henri de Boisbriand met her gaze, and
with his two hands he pressed on his breast
bloody winding sheet.
''Henri p she cried.
"Pray for me, Diane de Boisbriand," "
said he, "my body rests in blood-stained
tomb, and my soul suffers frightful tor
ment."
She heard no more, but fell as one dead
Nicole ran in, and soon all the chateau
were on the scene. The next day and the
following days the countess watched beside
the bedside of her young sister, who was
in raging fever. To every question she
replied wildly: "Je SQUIRE, je me tais'
I suffer, I am silent. Oh, my sister,
through pity do not question me.
At length the fever disappeared, but the
young invalid fell into consumption. In
vain her sisters and her nepheWs over
whelmed her with cares and caresses, in
vain the Countess assured her that she had
good news of Henri. Nothing enlivened
poor Diane. 'They are deceiving me, !"
She said to herself; II have seen him He
is dead p
Gone day Diane had fallen asleep, and
Marguerite sat beside her. One of her
maids came to tell her in low voice ::
MADAME, knight requests to see you; he
comes from the army"
The Countess, trembling, ran out of the
room. A gentleman awaited in the neigh
boring apartment. 1t was the Count, who
in his impatience had arrived before his peo-
pie. She rushed into his arms, but scarce
ly had he saidto her, "Where is my sis
ter?" then she burst into tears and related
DANES strange illness. The Count, great
ly greatly grieved, said to her "The joy
of seeing me, | hope, will cure her, and
taking his two children by the hand he
advanced to the bedside of Diane
She opened her eyes and uttered cry.
''Thou again" said she, "beloved soul of
my brother, what dost thou want?'
II am no ghost" said the Count; "the
campaign is over, and return, thanks be
to God, unwounded Kiss me, dear little
sister p
She threw her arms around his neck and
wept a long time, without being able to
utter a word.
Little by little her strength returned
and she confessed her fault to the good
cure of Lussault. He babe her bring him
the book of magic and the key of the
astrologer's chamber, and giving them to
the Count, made him promise to burn the
cursed book and never to question his sis
ter on the cause of her illness.
AS soon as Diane could walk Henry pro
posed to her to go to the chapel. Sup
ported by her brother and the Countess,
the pale young invalid issued from her
chamber and entered the gallery which led
to the chapel This gallery, adorned with
shields and the family portraits, was then
bathed in the brilliant sunlight. The eyes
of Diane were fixed on one portrait, and
she cried aloud: "He it is whom | have
been p
'You have then observed it before my
sister" said Marguerite; sis it not strik-
ing resemblance of my hunband p
Diane tottered; her brother made her sit
down in front of the portrait. 'It is true,
said she; ''were it not for the costume and
the frame one would think it was painted
yesterday"
''Yet it is more than century old, sale
the Count, "and when Clonet painted it a'
my great-great-grandfather, Henri de Bois-
BRAND, he assuredly did not forsee the face
that should have You are like him too,
my sister; the type of our family has pre-
served itself wonderfully"
elbow did our ancestor die ?" asked
Diane
teT,raoicalIv anou0h renlied the Count