Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1886-08-08

on the cosch-box and DO my guard.
lis msnpers were very gentle, and I
Understood how be came by them when
shesward 1 learned how he bad been
brought up. He Was very kind to my
children, too, and when they had
scarlet.fsyer he nursed them night
and day. At 8rst be came up
to try and smuse my little
boy before be knew what was the mat
ter. when he was sickening, and then
when the nurse fell i'll too be would
hardly leave the room to lie down or
eat bis meals. And when the children
were getting better he stayed with them
and amused them, and brought them
bule clever toys be made for them.
and put up with the childish irrita-
b,hiy Of their convslesccnce with more
than q woman's patient tenderness.
"Of course, Mesdames, devotion
ike this touched NE, and / grew almost
to love the strong youth who was 80
gentle and projecting 10 me and my lit
tie ones. He treated me "a il / we're
a princess or q bit OF china that would
break, and he even seemed TO love my
pretty dresses, and shielded them from
every rough touch as if they were 8
part Of myself.
Judge, then, dear ladies. Of my hor-
ror at what followed. One day | called
for Paul, and vas told he had not come :;
the next day and the next the same
thing took place. The third day | was
alarmed, feeling sure something must
have happened to him. Pierre came as
usual, but knew nothing Of his friend.
They had different lodgings, and Piorre
had not found Paul at his rooms
when be called. I was very
anxious for my brother to come,
as ! hoped he would suggest to me
what steps | could take to find out
about the youth, so I felt relieved when
] heard ring at the door and Bernard's
quick step on the stairs. Then he
stopped, ard | heard voices; he was
talking 10 some one-probably to one
of the servants. | waited for o few
minutes, then sprang up in my impa-
tience, ard, opening the door quickly.
! went to The corridor, and, leaning over
The bsnister, called him.
60 Bernard, Bernard said, come
| want YOU
"He was talking to old Vjctorine,
which struck me as odd, and both Of
them seemed startled by my voice.
Victorine. too. l noticed, tried to crum-
pie up and hide tiny printed newspa-
per-sheet she had in her band.
80 Coming, my DEAR he said,
coming wait one minute
Terror seized me. My husband
something had happened to him he
WIS away l almost tainted, and |
gssped out his name
/" Henri, Henri
.'Do not frighten myself, my DEAR"
said Bernard-my dear, good Bernard
rushing to me to support me then as be
did alterwsId in many terrible sor-
Tow. Henri is well-that is, ] have
heard nothing of him, or from him, sb-
solutely nothing, but what my little
sister herself has told me-
"'But the newspaper, then? Why
did she hide it? must see it. /
must know what il is / mast not know
"'Oh naughty Eve said Bernard.
with such natural playfulness that J
was partly treasured. You shall know,
else you are sure TO imagine something
a thousand times worse than the reality
can be. 1t is only your Paul. We
know nothing, but there has been
crime, and Victorine thinks he
"suas been assassinated,' cried,
womanlike, jumping to a conclusion.
Il knew something dreadful had hap
pened to the poor lad, or else he would
not have stayed away
"sNo, not that said my brother
calmly. 'Victorine was just telling
me he had not been here for some days
and that you were anxious about him,
and there is something here which she
was Just going to show me.
ale took the little old-fashioned
sheet out of her hands--it had reap.
peared from the pocket while we had
been talking-and read a few lines
aloud. There had been horrible,
cruel murder Of an old woman, with
robbery. The guilty man had been
taken prisoner, and was described.
This was the description The man is
about twenty-five years OF age he is
tall, and distingue both in face and gen.
eral appearance he is dark; his eyes
are of . peculiar yellow-brown; his
features good teeth white. His hands
are long, lean, and sinewy. lie gives
the name Of Paul, and refuses to allow
that he has any other
81 felt that it was Paul, our Paul
but the more / felt it the more indig-
nant was with myself and with the
Others for thinking 80 dreadful of the
the poor, kind boy. So ] tried to laugh
il off.
What q fuss I said. Why
should it be Paul! OF course ne would
never hurt any one, much less poor
helpless old woman. Wait, hs will be
here presently, and then you will be
ashamed Of yourself, Victorine.'
q" All, if Madame knew she be-
gan, ard then her eyes filled with tears,
and she sobbed out, Il have been
wicked woman. 1t might hsye been
Madame herself or the dear babes he
killed. BE was in prison, Madame, be-
fore we ever saw him here, and Pierre,
too, Madame. Oh, Madame pardon
me, pray you. never meant to de-
ceiye you. They met at the prison.
gate a. they were discharged, and Pierre
brought him here, and did not know
myself for long time
Little by little between her sobs
the whole story came out. Her son
and Paul had been in the same regi-
ment, had been both in the same prison
upon different charges--PIerro for
drawing his sabre in the street to de-
fend himself from arrest when not
quite sober; Paul for attempting to
burn q house down. Both had been
discharged on the same day, aud
had returned to Paris together the
very day my brother and inter
rupted the dancing. As | listened, |
felt only too sure that the murderer
Of to-day was the kind, almos. friendly,