The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1890-04-18

and then when she began to revive he rushed
/ to tho woods TO wrestle with his misery alone
| All this while that he was with his mother,
and going through this painful scene, there
| had been an unseen auditor, who heard every
word, and that was Pierre. who crouched dazed
| and stricken behind the portiere. Without
wishing to he had surprised these terrible
secrets, and here too, for the first time, he
heard of Raymond's love for Suzanne He
rose feebly and crept to his own room, and
threw himself on tho couch with groan, and
| tried TO range in his mind the things he had
heard. But all was confused mass of sound
and sense. After awhile his mother came to
his room. She bad never done so before.
| Was it that her woman's heart cried out for
some one to love her, to believe in her?
"My son, have come TO say good night.
| hope, Pierre, Tint l nave always been q
| good mother to you"
| "You have always been kind and indugent
and full OF affection"
| "You arc good son, Pierre; but feel to-
MI LIT rs il ! had not loved you as tenderly as
| you hare always deserved. And il l have
ever male you feel that l have loved your
brother better than you, pray you pardon
c.s for 1t, above all, tonight"
| "Ani why tonight more than any other
| ,ime.'
| ''3eca,re feel very tired and very iii, and
feel that have not long to live, and do
not wish, after am gone, that you think
did not love you"
''If you are not well, mother, we will go
away somewhere. A change perhaps would
| do you good. will see the doctor to-mor-
| row."
| "No, dear, do not wish TO leave here. Now
/ shall go to bed; but, PIERRE before l go
want to hear you say, Il pardon you"
II have nothing to pardon"
''Say the words. my SON; say them"
"But, mother
| "Ah, you refuse; you are jealous still of
the affection l have for Raymond. Oh, my
son, feel tonight that you are even dearer
to me than he, and it is for that that beg
! your pardon"
| But Pierre had lowered his eyes and stood
cold and rigid making no sign, and she left
him, scarcely able to drag herself along, and
| his heart melted at the sight of her feebleness
and he went and sustained her to her room.
When they were there she said, again trying
SO hard to smile:
$50, then, my son will not pardon his
muther?"
| ~ cannot!" cried he; II cannot. heard
all. know ALL"
| "Ah" said she, simply; then she burst into
a laugh so harsh and strange that he started
| and cried:
"Mother! Mother"
| ''Mother, mother; oh, yes, mother said
she, shaking her head, but still laughing with
! that awful strident sound Suddenly she
stopped, and her head fell forward and her
| arms hung Imply down each side the chair.
"Great Godw
Even to his inexperienced eyes this was
| death, and he rang and in haste sent for Ray
mond and a doctor, and then returned and
with the aid of the servants got her into bed,
| where she lay dying. When Raymond heard
| 9he gun shots he knew at once it was a note
| of alarm, as that was their method of COM
| munication when either was in the forest and
| was wanted at home. He reached there, and
| found his mother apparently dead, though she
revived and said feebly:
Raymond, Raymond, my best loved son,
will you do me ono last favor! Go to Roger
and tell him am dying, and bring him here.
cannot face God without his pardon. Bring
him, oh, Raymond, and Pierre will stay with
me. Dear noble Pierre, whom 1 never half
appreciated. Co. my son, in Gods name"
Raymond rode as for life to tn, White
House and told Roger, who looked at him
coolly and said:
"And Suzannea Am to leave this inno-
cent child to die alone while l go to the bed
side Of that guilty womang"
"Let me watch beside her. My mother
must not die without your PARDON she has
mine, God knows Go to her and let me
watch by this dear one whose life is so
precious to us ALL"
Roger clasped his hand warmly, and with
out another word led him to Suzanne's bed
side, saying to the nurse:
"Ths is her promised husband. ], her
father, authorize him to stay here until my
return" And he rode away like the wind,
leaving Raymond on his knees by Suzanne,
holding her burning hands in one Of his,
while with the other he softly rubbed her
forehead, which felt like fire under his touch.
She grew calmer and quieter, and after
while the restless tossings ceased and she fell
into gentle slumber, and the tense, dra wn
look about her brow and mouth relaxed. He
did not move or scarcely breathe as he knelt
there, his whole soul melting into the love
and sorrow he felt for her blighted youth.
And whether he infused something of his
own young life and strength into her OF alb
sorbed by force OF will or that occult science
which we call magnetism, the fever which
had so sapped her youth and strength, we
know not but as the hours went by she grew
easier and better, and when morning came at
last she opened her eyes in reason again.
In tho meantime Roger rode toward the
dying woman as fast as his horse could go.
Julia listened, listened, but no sound of
horses feet broke the stiffness of the night,
and she writhed in her agony as sho cried:
ale will not come. He will not pardon
me. Pierre. pray you, go TO the window.
Do you hear thema Go down in the court
yard and see il they are coming. Quick,
Pierrei / cannot see They will be too late.
Oh, why do they not come, and Raymond
He did not stay for that one little word that
might have soothed my dying bed. He did
not pardon his unhappy mother"
Piorre went and looked. He looked several
times, but they did not come
"He will not Gomez cried Julia in agony,
and already her features took on that awful
pallor Of tho dead. when q horses hoofs were