Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1888-01-25
CHAPTER TX.

and for long time they despaired Of her life,
but at last she regained consciousness and
little by little her strength. As soon as it
was possible she was removed to her great
uncle's home in the Val Dieu, near the Arden
mes mountains. Here the old man bad a
foundry and large, roomy house surrounded
by trees and a garden, while not far away
flowed the river Meuse. The sweet, quiet and
pure air soon restored the child to health,
but she seemed to have forgotten all about
the tragic scenes through which she had
passed. The old couple told her that her
parents had gone away on a voyage, and she
looked at them quietly without speaking as
they told her, so that when they were alone
they said thankfully:
"She has forgotten all that went before this
sickness. Let us thank God that it is so."
Winter, always severe in the Ardennes,
came, and ice and snow took the place of the
grass and fruits Of autumn, and winter and
summer went, and winter and summer came
again. Roger had been one year and half
in the galleys.
The snow had fallen several days and the
frost had made it hard and brittle, and travel
was almost suspended in the Val Dieu, and the
foundries seemed silent as the heavy snow
deadened the noises, and the wooden sabots of
the workmen were as silent as if made of
wadded wool as they walked over the thick
snow.
Night came, calm, cold and still, and the
moonlight gave an unearthly brilliance to the
scene. As the cold was intense all the houses
along the street of Val Dieu were closed, and
cheerful lights showed from the open Win
dows. The rigorous cold seemed to throw the
whole village into q state Of torpor. The
street was deserted, though it was but 10
o'clock. except at the great foundry, where
they worked night and day.
At 1880 q man appeared near the tunnel of
the railroad, on the jetty by the river side.
He had come in on the late train. He was
tall, though he walked bent as if he bore
heavy weight on his shoulders, and he walked
direct toward the foundry belonging to NJ.
Bernardit, and when there his feet refused
to carry him and he leaned against an up
turned cart, as If not knowing what else
to do.
A few moments he,stood thus and then felt
heavy land clasp his shoulder and a voice
say somewhat rudely:
"Who are you and what are you doing
nere!"
"You are NJ. Adrien Bernardit, are you
not?'
II am, and who are youl"
The unknown looked about him timi6ly,
and then said in low voice that seemed
broken by emotion:
"Alas, am Roger Laroque!"
"You, in France and free!'
eyes, I am here" said Roger, lifting his
hat so that NJ. Bernardit could see him
clearer, and then he continued: "And
Suzanne, my child! You do not tell me if
she lives"
"She lives and is well, and is with u.s."
Roger sighed as if. a great weight was
lifted from his heart. There was short ST.
lence between them, then Bernardt said:
"Come, come home with me. We can talk
there at our ease, for you want no one to STE
you, suppose!"
They walked in silence to the house, where
the old lady was still sitting before the fire.
When she saw her husband come III with that
pale, ragged man, with his long hair and
beard in disorder, she rose with look Of
fright. Bernardit closed and locked the door
and then coming close to his wife said:
sit is Laroque, the childs father"
"You here and free?" said the old lady,
trembling, and using almost tie same words
as her husband had.
Roger bowed without speaking and sank
into chair. Finally he mastered his emo
tion enough to ask to see Suzanne The old
couple looked pitifully at each other. Had
he come to take their child7
"She is asleep" said the old lady.
u will not disturb her. Only let me look
at her. never hoped to sec her again. Oh,
let me see her now!'