Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-01-18
ROGER LAROQUE.
Adapted and Translated from the French
 of Jules Mary.

 rntaiily renounceI his happiness! What had happened! She resolved to question him l as to this phase of affairs, a.,l she v-sut to him as he sat with his head bowed upon his arms by a table. As he heard her, he rose and, taking a book, went and sat down by the open window, and he silently nerved himself for the grave explanation that soon must take place between them, and he was afraid. He had borne the reproaches of Laroque. the grief of Suzanne, and now it was his mother s turn. He was to hear her questions and answer them. He was to witness her fushes of shame, her tears. His mother! And this was to come to her through him, her best loved son, who had thus to become her judge. It was afternoon and already the shadows were lengthening, and Raymond felt glad that darkness would soon fall upon them and so make his task a little easier. He main tained silence until he felt her soft hand fall upon his shoulder.
 ''You are sad and preoccupied, my son.. What troubles you?"
 ''Nothing," said he hoarsely, feeling him. self, after all. incapable of bringing about what he knew must take place.
 She sighed as she said:
 My poor boy, it is not easy for you to tell lie. Do not try it with me. M. Forney told me you refused the hand of Suzanne You do not answer. It is true then" He bowed his head.
 "Why this strange and sudden changes I have right to know. Your duty is to tell me-"
 i q shall not answer"
 'What reproach can you bring against that pure and noble girl:" Nothing, nothing!" ''Her father then:" ''Nor him, either, poor unhappy man'
 ''Then 1 cannot understand you at all. Why this mystery? Speak. I command you. Have you any reproach to make against me, your mother, who has loved you so?'
 She had said this last, obeying some occult power, and whe1- she had uttered the words she stood breathless waiting his answer. What if her past was known, Why had s1lt. said that?
 You wish to know all, motIcr:'
 Il do, for I know there must be some sll- preme reason for this inexpicable conduct on your part"
 He gathered his remaining strength, and then said slowly: ''There IS a grave secret iii M. Forney's life. His name is not Forney, but it hides another l which is known to you, and which was dis honored." 'Dishonored, you say!' ''Yes, by an infamous condemnation. For ney is an escaped convict, condemned for assassination to hard labor for life ill New Caledonia, from whence he escaped to America" She had been standing, but now fell into a chair, almost fainting.
 His name, his real 1Iame:" she cried ill 6 strangling voice. ''Roger Laroque, my fathers friend!" known Wn3t n tn 1 before he pronounced the words But a wild 1 hope made her ask. Perhaps he did not know | all, but when sho heard those words, uttered with steely hardness, she felt that nothing was hidden from her son. She was so white | that one would have said she had secret wound from which every drop of her life blood had flowed. Her son dared not look at her. Still she did not faint, but tried to over come her agitation, and lie for his sake, for i she could not bear to let him believe all he knew.
 ] ''Why, yes, 1 believe I do remember the | fact. This Roger Laroque, the wretch, he killed man to rob him, and-and the-the exertion of defending him was too much for 1 your poor father, who was iii very feeble health. But he had an idea that this Roger | had saved his life once, and so his honol obliged him to defend the case. But for that your father might be alive today"
 Raymond turned then and said slowly looking his mother full in the eyes, ''You set now why this marriage cannot take place."
 "Yes, yes; see. A convicts daughter Of course you could not be expected to thinl of it now.'
 ''Of course not" answered he in singular tone
 She breathed. He knew nothing then bu this. She was so glad that she forgot to bt astonished at the fact that this man wa Roger and she had not known it. She fel tranquilized and relieved, and gave a lons sigh. Sue had come so near the catastrophe
 ''My poor boy!" said she. My deares sonr'
 But Raymond continued:
 "Roger Laroque was condemned, but d you believe he was guilty!'
 "Certainly. Your father tried in vain t. save him, and besides he avowed his crime which perhaps you do not know"
 ''I repeat my question: Do you believ him guilty?'
 'sYou ask strange question. I have al ready answered."
 ''Very well; I tell you he is innocent.''
 'How do you know? All convicted crim inals say they are innocent Everybod, knows that"
 He rose brusquely and walked back an forth two or three times, and then said bit terly, looking at her with a hard and pene trating glance:
 'Ah, mother, mother, take care Do no perjure yourself"
 My poor son, you must suffer greatly t speak so cruelty to me-"
 II neither want nor need your pity"
 "Raymond, pardon you"
 "Nor do I want your pardon.n
 "Great God!'
 "Roger Laroque Is innocent, and it is no that ignoniny which forbids me to wed hi daughter"
 "How can you certify to his innocence:'
 "A woman played part in this frightfr drama. Do you hear, mother-a woman?''
 The guilty mother began again to tremb] violently. She stamnered:
 ''I hear, my son."
 "A woman whom Laroque would not nam, though in naming her he might have save himself"
 Romance"
 sTruth! This woman had borrowed mono from him and had been his-mistress; and t condemn him, to be revenged, she gave hil this money Of course she could not hay done this alone, and she had an accomplice, tool, named Matthias zuber, otherwise know as Luversan."
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