Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-11-22

Count were passing away the time in toss
ing for sovereigns, quite unconcerned
with the weather prospects outside. Al
/ this game the Count had been seriou;
and persistent loser. 1t seemed as if there
was some spell upon him. Whether he
'tcalled" or Spun" the result was always
against him. Twenty times in succession
be had lost and then he paused as il
hesitating whether to go on.
Tell you what it IS" said Mr.. Hook,
magnanimously. Il don't like having a
man so cheap as all this. What did l tell
you? It's that blessed crucisx that is do
ing your business. You go and chuck il
overheard, as l advised YOU before, and
then come back and see if you don't get
a turn"
"That is what it shall be-" said the
Count, rising and making his way to the
stairs.
eyes, that is the man." said Mr.. Hook,
in answer to an inquiring glance, as soon
as the Count had disappeared. 81 knew
him from the 6rs.-the Comte de Bodiia.
The Countess is the poor creature who
has given the evening papers a turn. But
the curious thing is that believe this was
the very girl our friend Tomaso is looking
for. A little bird told me her history, and
how the Count met her on board steamer
and cajoled her INFO following him; and a
beautiful creature she was. And putting
this and that together, think we have
a pretty good line to the whole business"
''And don't you think Tomaso has got a
line, too?'
"Well, that blessed cross has given him
kind of suspicion; for it was hers, no
doubt. But it's only suspicion. And if,
as hope, the cross is at the bottom of the
sea by this time, it will never be anything
more. Poor Tomaso is quite done up, and
| got the steward to put him into a bunk,
quite out of the way. Hulloa! what's
that ?"
For the talk was interrupted by quick
cries from the deck. and the trampling of
feet overhead, and everybody made for the
companion ladder. On deck something
like a great black shadow doomed over Us,
and we heard the shrill cries of foreign
seamen. Next moment the shadow had
full-rigged ship, with every sail set to
catch the slightest breeze, but drifting
with the tide up channel, aud without
lights as far as any one could see. She
missed us by hairs breadth and went on
her way rejoicing.
And we had cause to rejoice soon after,
for we passed out of the fog bank as sud-
denly as we had entered it. Soon we were
close in shore and should he landing in an
other ten minutes.
And with that prospect, the frail bond of
interest that connect fellow-voyagers, for
however short passage, was suddenly
broken. Every body was after his own bag
and portmanteau. And yet | could see
nothing of the Count in all this hustle,
while the Italian was crouched upon one
of the wet benches on deck, pale and livid,
as if the voyage, Notwithstanding the calm
ness of it, had been too much for him.
And, running against Mr. Hook, | heard
him mutter:
"Confound that Count Where is he
hiding? He owes me twenty pounds"
But from that moment there was nothing
to think of but hurry-skurry to catch the
train for Paris, for which, thanks to the
fog, We were already late.
A few days after-the weather bright
and spring-like, and the trees on the
boulevards showing tufts of green hap
pened to be near the Madeleine one morn
pomp." The front of the church was
hung with black, with silver tears
sprinkled thicklv everywhere, and a cor
tege of carriages stretched all around the
"Place" below Taking chair outside a
neighboring cafe an attentive waiter
brought me coffee and Figaro, while ne
obligingly pointed out paragraph which
bore upon the scene before us:
This morning are celebrated, at the
Church of the Madeleine, the obsequies of
the Count de Bodija, once a ell.known
figure in the world of sport and high
life With every advantage of fortune
and person, the" Count was an infatuated
player, whose ill-luck and constant and I'M
accountable series Of losses had become al
most proverb among his associates. The
Count, it is said, was assisted in his reck-
less career by a lady Of rare personal
beauty, who had for some time shared his
fortunes. The crash came at last; Madame
committed suicide at her London hotel,
while the body of Monsieur was picked up,
without sou In the pockets of his gar
ments, on the beach near Cape Grisnez.
He is supposed to have fallen, or, perhaps,
jumped overheard, and probably, at night,
from one of the numerous packet boats
crowded with passengers that are con-
tinually crossing between the Channel
ports. The supreme touch of ill-fortune is
shown in the fact that if NJ. Bodija had
succeeded in reaching Paris he would have
been met with the news of a magnificent
inheritance bequeathed to him by an
uncle-one of those Brazilian magnifcoes
whose fortunes are to be reckoned in
milliards. The inheritance has, at all
events, secured for the unfortunate Count
a most magnificent inhumation."
Now, what are we to make Of the curl
Gus apparition of that young woman among
the passengers on that particular night ?
Ny own evidence would not go for much,
for had only vague impression of hav-
ing seen such figure. And William, the
railway man, might easily have been de-
ceived by some accidental arrangement of
light and shadow. The Italian had his
mind highly excited on the subject, and it
is easy to imagine that an image so strongly
impressed on his brain may have assumed
the semblance of reality. The same may
be said of the Count, for it may be taken
for granted that he saw something else
than a black dog to terrify him so unac-
countably. Yet, taken altogether, the in
cidents can only be characterized in
Williams concise phrase as ''queer start"
A few days later | ran against Mr.. Hook
on his way to Chantilly, where some
steeplechases were to be run. The talk
naturally enough fell upon the fate of the
Count de Bodija. And Mr.. Hook yolun-
teered the following statement, which