The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1889-09-25

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"Pretty dings-eh?" he suggested
"Wouldn't de young lady like to bu.
dem? Shus as goot as new"
She had grown as Pale as death, he'
eyes blazing with anger.
"How dare you insult me?" she de
manded, harshly.
As she spoke, her eyes fell upon
glittering heap of bangles lying in the
open pack before her.
The peddler's gaze followed hers
and he held up to view a white tulle
skirt. covered with silver spanglts.
"Dis for de lady to dance IN at de
teater," he cried, triumphantly.
Pale, and painting for breath, Adele
leaned against the nearest tree for sup
port, her eyes wild and dilated with
horror.
"Take it away!" she gasped, feebly;
"leave this place. Out of my sight,
old man, at Jnce! Do you hear?"
The old man closed his pack. .
"Dis place de public road, miss, if
you please" he observed, terssly.
aBut I goes. Goot morning-eh, vat
you calls it?-La Belle"
And, shouldering his pack, he
trudged away, leaving Adele upon the
ground in a dead swoon.
She opened her eyes at last, and the
strange oppression at her heart told
her what had happened.
And she knew THAT, In spite OF all,
in spite Of her mothers scheming and
plotting, she had been found out-had
been recognized by common strolline
peddler. Good heavens! all was lost!
"nLet me go home to mamma" she
moaned, as she. arose slowly to her
feet. ooh, it was a bad mistake for
me to come out here. But believed
myself free to 60 any place without
danger of discovery. In heavens name,
how did that man find out? How
could he have recognized me?
"Does any one else suspect? And
yet, it is very strange; 1 could have
sworn that when I first saw the old
peddler here in the woods he looked
like young man.
"He had taken off his spectacles, and
I thought I saw-I- All, I have it.
His gray hair was only O wig.
"The man was in disguise-he is 8
detective, without doubt. Then we
are suspected; we are under surveil
lance. There is no hope for us-none!"
Slowly, falteringly, like an old
woman, she made her way back to the
house, and burst in upon her mother,
lounging in the depths of a violet
velvet easy chair in her own luxurious
chamber, French novel in her hand.
She glanced up with a startled ex'
preston, at sig ght of Adele's white,
Mortified face.
"Adele, my child. Good heavens
What has happened?"
Adele sank upon velvet ottoman al
her mothers feet, and, between tears
and groans, sobbed out the whole story.
ave are suspected, mamma" she
painted. ave are suspected-aye, dis
covered-and soon all will be known
to the public!"
The book fell from Gabrielle's hand,
and she arose to her feet.
In her trailing robe of rich mauve
silk, fastened at the throat with q
single diamond glittering in the rich
lace clustered there, she looked like .
beautiful queen.
One white hand was lifted with an
imperious gesture, her lips parted, one
word broke the terror-flled silence:
"Discovered!" she painted, madly. 81
will kill the wretch who dare to hint
that am not what I seem! Be quiet
Adele; this is only suspicion on the
part of that fellow, and can not be sus
tanned.
1T will come to nothing. No doub,
the man was detective In disguise.
but he was merely trying ruse to find
out if he was on the right track.
"How could he know that Adele st.
Cyr did not die? That the coffin which
was buried in the cemetery in the city
yonder, held only log of wood?"
"He might have had the grave
opened" suggested Adele.
Gabrielle looked troubled.
"True," she returned in low tone.
"And" Gin a thoughtful voice., "we will
prove it, Adele"
An hour later the Lawrence carriage
drove away from Lawrence Park, with
the two women inside, in the direction
of the cemetery.
Bidding the carriage await their re-
turn in a certain place which would not
suggest their destination to the driver,
Gabrielle and Adele made their way to
the burying ground:
Sacred spot, which they had already
desecratedI Gods acre where 80 many
seeds are sown, to await the coming OF
the resurrection morn.
Il shall know at once if the grave
has been disturbed" Gabrielle NUT
tered, sharply, as they turned the cor
ner of long avenue of graves, and
paused at last beside the mound where
the world believed that Adele st. Cyr,
the famous danseuse, was sleeping he1
long. last sleep.
The long, slim mound had been
heaped high with floral tributes, and
the mourning mother had requested
the sexton to allow them to fade and
die, untouched, undisturbed- perish
and to pass away unmolested.
They paused beside the grave, and
Gabrielle uttered q loud cry:
"The flowers have been disturbed, I"
she painted, hoarsely. "See, Adele, 1
left them in certain positions which
the wind could not disarrange. Iplaced
them thus" rapidly illustrating, "and
thev have been altered. And-and-"
She stopped short, with groan of
horror and surprise. Embedded in the
damp earth, beneath the dead flowers,