Sacramento daily record-union., 1890-09-21

is all very well, but you will please me by
not speaking TO me as thee and thou. You
see | am getting big now, and 1t annoys
me-" That evening Joberte alone wept,
and he had such fine clothes, he was
right; to him she was only his nurse and
servant.
The viscomte evinced equal coolness and
reserve toward his foster brother, who had
soft heart, and toward Regis, who felt it
deeply. He said to his son:
"My boy, if you will take my advice !;
look out for some other trade than mine.
To be game-keeper under Count Jean is
we'll enough, very good; but under Count
Jacques, that is song of another kind.
Who knows? We are all mortal"
Years, more years have passed. The
Countess is dead The Count soon followed
her. The sole heir. the Valroy Sancey,
lives in Paris, and badly, too, they say.
He is twenty-five years of age. At long
intervals he visits his domains, talks for
an hour with his steward, sleeps for a
night in one of his chateaus. But when the
Garnaches comes before him he receives
them standing, with a cold look, ANNOYED
by disagreeable recollection.
They remind him of his childhood, his
dead mother. his dead father. And Jacques
de Valroy does not like sadness. Some
times he brings friends with him, naughty
noisy women of doubtful reputation,
whose behavior scandalizes the country.
Then he is off without looking back,
without saying if he will return. And
Joberte, cold, bitter, undeceived, thinks.
''He is my son, and he doesn't know me
| have no right to complain; | wanted it
thus. | worship him and he despises me;
perhaps does not even care if | live
Alas, ne doesn't even seem happy. He
lamented over his father, his mother, the
only beings he ever loved. And Regis is
still alive; and IL am vet standing, Had
he remained what he was he would not
have wept. And the other, the real
Jacques, who is called Joseph here, lives
peacefully, satisfied with his lot, loving
and beloved. Peasant, his acre of land is
sweet to him. Next month he is to marry
the girl he loves. He is satisfied. Did /
err? good heavens In any case~I have
suffered, and still suffer. 1t is the punish
ment."
Ardently, day and night, sleeping or
awake, she dreams of her child far away
She had no thought but for him, becom.
ing careless wife, callous mother People
talked of it.
What was he doing down there in that
terrible Paris? Oh, if he should die, and
die far from her? She was possessed with
this idea, and followed Joseph Garnache
with almost a hateful look as he sauntered
towards the fields, whistling some gay air,
1t would end by her hating this one, al
though she had sucked him. These
mobiles, in spite of all, heaven protects
them But the father and son, Regis and
Joseph, understood each other, and loved
one another profoundly.
"Nother has her bad days. We must
overlook it, little one 1t is age that
makes itself felt. And besides, you see,
she has always been little peculiar; |
know it all. Let US talk of your fancee;
she is good, at all events.
And then both lit their pipes with a
happy smile, and built ingeniously fine
but simple future.
One morning yellow posters were pasted
on the portals of the Chateau de Sancey.
BY authority of justice, the domain was
sold. Everything had been allotted. The
parks, buildings, fields, woods, the ponds
and the river had been given to the high
est bidder Then Joberte was terror
stricken. Most assuredly he whom she
had enriched by crime was running him
self at his pleasure and was profting badly
by the usurped and stolen riches.
At this time, Joseph, the peasant, had a
child, and holding him high in the air on
fine May morning gave thanks to God
for his life.
Regis Garnache shed tears of joy, the
young mother was laughing in corner
Joberte alone unable to join in the hap
piness of her family, remained somber,
with an air of desolation. In the country
round they began to shake their heads in
speaking of her. They pitied her.
Three months later yellow bills were
placarded on the walls of Valroy. Jo-
berte cried with agony, wringing her
hands.
The evening of the sale, when all had
been sold, she met Count Jacques, who
suddenly appeared in side road. With
bowed head he was walking sadly.
"Good day, good day, nurse" he said,
on seeing her; sit is all over. | have
nothing left"
She was weeping, her head in her blue
apron; her hair was quite white. She was
old, broken down and pitiable. He con-
tinued, as if forced to speak out loud, as if
he were alone, and felt bitter pleasure in
rehearsing his distress.
81 was quick, rather quick, indeed.
haven't even enough to settle my accounts.
But Valroy does not survive dishonor,
and it is dishonor. My word for it,
thought / was richer; ] was sold very
badly; I have been cheated once more for
the last time"
"What are you going to do?" she cried,
at length.
"Nurse, nurse, / forgive this familiarity
right to be proud and. after all, with my
father, my mother, you are one of the rare
people who have loved me little. What
am going to do? Oh, it won't take
long"
She understood.
''You wish to die?"
He replied: 81 must die. 1t is so.
Come, don't cry. You have Regis, your
old family and your new one. You are
happy. Look here, it is an o'd, stupid
progerb put to rhyme by good poet who
knew life and was always right. Neither
gold nor grandeur make US happy l am
one more proof of it. Now good-by,
nurse"
He went away. She held out her arms
to stop him. He was already far away in
the underbrush.
She screamed Ny son my son p fright
fully and tragically alone in the echo.
At this moment she saw Joseph in the
fields. He was pushing the plow which
three strong horses drew, and leaving be-
hind him burrows of brown earth. A
flight of crows followed him. fighting,
croaking, in their pursuit of white worms
disemboweled by the sharp blade of steel.
Profound peace reigned all around. On
the border of the plain Regis appeared,
followed by young woman carrying
child from afar Joseph held out his
arms toward them, and the setting sun
proclaimed the days toll over, the
hour of rest in the quiet home, the even
ing meal surrounded by loved ones, every
thing which makes happy evening after
hard days work.
She raved, with outstretched fists, the
mouth contorted with sebs and impreca-
tions. Brutally from the direction in
which Jacques de Valroy, ruined, no doubt
had fled, pistol shot was
heard. Then she fell, her face to
earth. the arms crossed,