The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1888-10-27

his terrible power.
Lux took lodgings in the Rue st. Honore,
and hurried to the Convention, to solicit, in
the name of German Republicans, the an
nexation of his native city to France.
The Chamber that day was full of tumult
Marat the hideous, loud-mouthed, preach
ing massacre and anarchy, was the leader
of La Montague. AS he ranted in the trlo-
une Adam Lux looked at him in disgust.
His head was too large for his body; his
lean, sicl1ly face was unspeakably repulsive.
| He wore a patched and dirty waistcoat cot
ton-velvet trousers, stained with ink, shoes
full of nails and tied with packthread, a
ragged shirt opened at his bony breast ana
greasy hair confined with a leathern thong.
On his deeply-cleft mouth a sardonic grin
| appeared continually. His look was full of
insolence and power.
"a monster in body and in soul ~ thought
Adam Lux, who found the external aspects
Of liberty in Paris far from pleasant.
July came. One hot and breathless night,
Lux left the Convention in a detected frame
| of mind. He felt mocked deluded, discour-
aged. There was a vile scent of blood in
the streets of Paris. Women passed him
| singing Ca ira and the dreadful CdrnlGgROle,
A score of high and naughty heads had
fallen since morning in the sack of sawdust
at the foot of the guillotine. He stopped on
the Pont Neuf to look at the sunset behind
the trees of the Champs Elysees, and the
houses of Chaillot. That, too, seemed vast
streak of blood. With a shudder he turned
and walked away to the gardens of the Palais
Royal.
There the young Deputy began pacing
aimlessly about, absorbed in unhappy
thought Presently he heard light step.
A woman was advancing toward him under
the galleries. She wore a white gown, a
Norman coife fastened with a ribbon, and a
silk fchu on her shoulders. Adam Lux saw
a face, young and of amazing beauty-the
skin like alabaster, the splendid eyes UNI
fathomably dark-a mass of chestnut curls,
with auburn tips, clustering against daz-
cling neck. 1t was his dream-maiden, in
the flesh, the substance of that mysterious
shadow which had twice appeared to him in
his own City of Mayence!
With an absorbed air she glided by, look
ing about as if in search of something. Her
white dress brushed him gently. His heart
gave furious bound. He turned and fol
| lowed her
She entered the shop of a cutler; the
young Deputy entered also. She advanced
to counter and said something to the man
| behind it. Lux failed to catch the words,
but the rich, cultivated voice was that of a
born gentlewoman.
The cutler produced a tray of knives. In
the shadow of the shop-door Adam Lux saw
her select one-a ponard knife, with an eb-
ony haft
'The price," she asked
"Three francs, cttoyenne," answered the
cutler
She put the money on the counter, con-
cealed the knife under her silk kerchief,
and returned to the garden. AS she seated
herself on one of the stone benches abutting
| on the arcddc5, Adam Lux paused at her
side.
For Gods sake" he entreated, 'tell me
who you are! have known you for long
time, but your name-what is your namel"
She started and looked up.
"You have known me for long time,
citOyen" she echoed, gravely. 81 do not I'M
derstand you"
Nobody was near-only light wind
moved through the chestnut-trees
'Whatr' he cried, with keen disappoint-
ment; you do not see that we are not
straDgerss Your soul claims no acquaint-
ance with mine!'
"Noner'
He choked down his agitation as best he
could.
81 am the Deputy from Mayence,' he said,
trying to speak calmly. at was at Mayence
that you twice appeared to me. For days
and weeks my sleeping and waking dreams
have been full of you | recognized you the
instant that 1 saw you in this garden-it
was just before you entered the cutters
shop"
A slight alarm dawned in her eyes. Her
hand went up to her silk JicAu, under which
she had hidden the knife Did she think
him mailman!
zone should not dream in these perilous
days, cit0ye1t," she said, sternly. 'There is
little profit in dreams. He who loves liberty
must dct''
| He was devouring her with his eyes.
81 perceive that you are an aristocrat
you belong to the nobles but your name
your name"' he insisted.
She smiled sadly
Pardon, l can not tell it now, citoyen, but
before many hours it will be in every
mouth"
She arose from the bench. He put out a
hand to detain her. Her beauty dazzled,
overpowered him.
"Stay! Stay" he entreated. ''Do not
leave mel love you ardently. Strange
incomprehensible as this passion may seem
to you, it will either save or destroy me.
claim you! Whoever you are know that
you belong to me; or why were you re-
vealed to me in the spirit before my eyes
could look on your living breathing beauty
If you go like this, leaving me no clew to
your whereabouts, | may never see you
again, and to lose you now would be anguish
greater than death.n
Gravely, coldly she answered.: ''Do not
talk to me of love, citoyen; l can not com
prehend you'll belong only to France! Be-
fore the Revolution | was a Republican
You will surely see me again, and Them
with a strange and solemn expression, "you
will understand every thing. Now, citoye1,,
! adieur'
Swear" he urged, wildly, ''that it shall
be so-that l shall see you again.
81 swear" she answered, and moved rap
idly away.
He did not attempt to follow her, but
leaned against the stone bench in a sort of
delirous ecstacy. His dream maiden really
existed. He had heard her voice-looked
into her eyes. She had promised that he
should see her again, and he knew she
would keep her word.
Another day dawned and dwindled. 1t
was the 18th of July, the anniversary eve
of the fall of the Bastille. The heat was
! intense, and the streets of Paris swarmed