Sacramento daily record-union., 1888-09-15

"When you have finished, Pereira," ("
said the master of the house, banteringly
regarding him through his glasses.
Pardon me, pardon me. You were
saying, Maurice"
"That the husband imagined terrible
vengeance. And one only possible to a
man of his profession. Macha was not, as
people supposed, completely cured, and he
knew it well, this specialist of heart
troubles, who had cared for her for two
years past with SO much zeal and tender
ness This knowledge he would now use
against her
Restraining his anger, he limited
himself to watching over his wife with
the attitude of husband unquiet and
suspicious, arousing thus in the soul the
most torturing fear and anguish. Satisfied
from the letters he had surprised of the mad,
the senseless passion that swayed the two
lovers, he was certain they were alwaysseek-
ing to see, to meet each other, even in the
midst Of dangers, this domestic Machiavel
profted by the situation, and from that
on mysterious power began to
place all sorts of petty obstacles between
Macha and Mon. de Blazewitz, without,
however, separating them entirely. 1t
forced them to break their rendezvous, to
interrupt their correspondence, and
troubled and embittered their love-
ain this life, full of keen and sorrowful
emotions, the health of Madam Arnold
failed anew-the doctor was killing his
wife with the same certainty and pre-
cision as he had formerly cured her. To
the hour of mad terror which gave to the
circulation morbid and dangerous ac-
tivity, this skillful physician, this impla-
cable husband, made to succeed long days
of sadness and waiting, which congested
the heart, retarded the blood and slowly
stifed her. Then again, as suddenly
feigning to be no longer jealous, he
showed himself touched almost to tears by
the sufierings of his wife,
g" At the end of six months the swoons
were more frequent, the palpitations more
rapid the disqsieting symptoms of the
aneurism had reappeared. All, ha, Par
ezra, you do not interrupt me noww
"Ma foi, no! What of it? This but
the second act; the denouement-giv us
thatw
Gone evening the doctor entered the
chamber of his wife like tempest.
Madame said he without preface,
Madame, / know all-Mons. de Blazewitz
is your lover The poor Macha became
as white as linen, the purple Of death ap-
pearing upon her lips.
"'Kill mep she cried, throwing herself
before him; kill met is better, and |
wish it,
"'No, I cannot raise my hand against a
woman,' replied Arnold. Your accom-
plice has paid for both. Mons. de Blaze
witt is dead. | have fought with him-I
have killed himp
" Macha dropped like a stone. All the
same the doctor had lied-deliberately
lied. He had not dared to touch as much
as the mustache Of the handsome Captain,
one of the best marksmen and fencers in
Vienna. He kneIt by the side of his
wife, rigid upon the foor-the pulse fut-
tered still-she lived He gave her, this
executioner, his care, reyiving dra an ght
in short, terminated her.
"'Now,' he said to her, go at once and
put on your ball dress and all your dia-
monds. You must accompany me to the
ball Of the French Embassador, to which
We are invited
Never ? cried Macha, never 1t is
impossiblep
a. You will CO. coldly continued her
husband, and Immediately. | have made
my duel with Mon. de Blazewitz upon the
pretext of quarrel at play, but you are
compromised. 1t is necessary that you be
seen upon my arm tonight, or the world,
which talks SO well, will believe and say
that we fought on account of you. I re-
fuse TO be dishonored Dress at once T
command itp
How resist the man whom she had
so cruelty outraged? Macha made her
toilet-in what agony And her hus-
band dragged her to the salon of the en-
bassador. There, shivering and depressed,
she fell rather than seated herself in the
salon d'entree, where the footman every
moment cried the names of the new ar
rivals The doctor in full dress, superb
and stately, with all his orders glittering
upon his breast, held himself erect behind
the chair of his wife.
" Suddenly, with glance into the ante
chamber, he stopped and murmured in her
ear"
"What ?" cried Pereira. "a gal.antry
or threat?"
"Murmured in her ear" continued
Maurice, as if the other had not spoken.
Thou wretch, thou miserable one, since
grief hath not killed thee-ah, we'll, look
there pointing to the door look, and
die Of joyp AT the same moment the foot
man announced in sonorous voice: The
Captain Baron de Blazewitz p"
And the handsome officer entered with
a smile upon his lips, his eyes, as they
always did, seeking the eyes of his mis-
tress. But was it she, the woman he
loved-that trembling, tottering figure;
that livid face, under the sparkling dia-
monds-she who stared at him with a
wild afrighted gaze and fell upon the
floor dead-this time truly dead?
at was, of course, frightful esclandre
the doctor threw himself beside his wife
with cries of anguish, and the despair OF
Monsieur de Blazewitz, but for the en-
treaties of friend, who led him away,
would have produced scene.
'The guests scattered like dried leaves,
the lackeys ate up the supper and the en-
bassadress, who had constructed for the
cotillon some grotesque Fl .ures from which
she expected a great success, enraged-"
Maurice stopped-the room was silent,
some of them nearly shivering-even Pa
reira himself had tact enough to avoid
saying anything stupid.
At this moment the mistress of the
house lifted the portiere of the smoking
room.
"Have you finished, gentlemen" said
she, 'have you finished your cigars? L
so, the ladies reclaim you"
In passing into the salon again Pareira
took the arm of Maurice.
Your DOCTOR" he murmured, "what
became of him-you did not finish ?'
As l told you, in day of imprudence
he boasted of his crime, which had es.
capped all cliastisement. But this sojourn
in Vienna had grown to be very unpleas-
ant. To-day he is in Varsovie, where al
ready his clientele is large and lucrative
and where he continues to repeat to all the
maladies of his specially: No emotions
above all things, no emotionsp"
"What think you of my subject for 8
piece, Pareira? VIII you use it ?"
Impossible, my friend, impossible
The papers and the critics would say il
was copied from the Julie of Octave
Feuillet p
An Explanation.
What is this nervous trouble" witt
which SO many seem now to be afflicted
If you will remember, few years ago tht