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

adjudged guilty OF murderT
sNo, and know that In spite OF that you
were the most honest and loyal man in the
world, and know that you have been very
unhappy"
"My daughter loves you and win die il you
desert her. In remembrance of the friendship
which united your father and me, will you
tell me why you do thisl Why your sudden
changer
.Alasl sir, when asked for the honor of
her dear hand l did not know-that-
that
II was an escaped convictr
"a convict. That, sir, did you honor under
the circumstances"
"Then what do you meanr
"That-that you had been my mothers
lover"
Roger closed his eyes and shuddered, and
bowed his head in shame.
"You invoke the friendship which existed
between my father and you. That friendship
was the death OF my father. Can you deny
itg'
II cannot; we were both culpable once, but
/, at least, have ueen atrociously punished.
Ono word from your mother would have
saved me, but she would not say it, and
could not. have paid, God knows, in tears
and groans for my wrong. But all that Is
past and gone Tho thing to consider now is
the happiness of my child, and yours, if you
love her, as have been led to suppose. Let
your union repair the past"
''No,n said Raymond. ''It is impossible"
"You do not love her theng
"God only knows how well do"
''There must be- then, another reason be-
sides the one you have cited. 1t is that
which governs your conduct. Will you tell
me?n
"Never! NJ. Laroque, you see how suffer.
Spare me, pity mel"
aPity2 Have you or yours had any for mea
Think Of that poor, innocent child who will
lie Who of us three is to be the most
pitiedp
Raymond gave q fearless sob.
at is to kill her as surely as if you struck
her with knife. You shall be the first to
hear of her death" and with these words the
unhappy man left tho room. In the garden
he met Julia, ard in taking leave Of her he
said
"Madame, Raym and Suzanne love each
other. Your SCH has given her up without
explanation, and my daughters dying Save
her. madame"
And without further words he drove hur
redly away, leaving Julia a prey to per-
plexity and fear. Why had Raymond vol
unfairly renowned his happinessa What
had happened? She resolved to question him
as to this new phase of affairs, and she went
to him as he sat with his head bowed upon
his arms by q table, AS he heard her, he rose
and, taking book, went and sat down by the
open window, and he silently nerved himself
for the grave explanation that soon must
take place between them, and he was afraid.
10 h,I fha CHI Of .ar tba
grief of Suzanne and now it was his mothers
turn. He was to hear her questions and
answer them. He was TO witness her fushes
of shame, her tears. His motherl And this
was to come to her through him, her best
loved son, who had thus to become her judge.
It was afternoon and already the shadows
were frightening, and Raymond felt glad
that darkness would soon fall upon them and
so make his task little easier. He main
tanned silence until he felt her soft hand fall
upon his shoulder.
"You are sad and preoccupied, my son.
What troubles you?"
Nothing" said he hoarsely, feeling him
self, after all. incapable Of bringing about
what he knew must take place.
She sighed as she said
any poor boy, it is not easy for you to tell
q lie. Do not try it with me- M. Forney
told me you refused the hand of Suzanne.
You do not answer 1t is true then?"
Ho bowed his head.
"Why this strange and sudden change? I
have right to know. Your duty is to tell
me-"
81 shall not answer
"What reproach can you bring against that
pure and noble girlp
Nothing nothingp
"Her father theng'
"Nor him, either, poor unhappy mani"
"Then / cannot understand you at all
Why this mystery9 Speak. command you.
Have you any reproach to make against me,
your mother, who has loved you 500"
She had said this last, obeying some OCCULT
power, and when she had uttered the words
she stood breathess waiting his answer What
II her past was knownl Why had she said
thatl
'You wish to know all, mother?"
81 do, for know there must be some SUI
preme reason for this inexplicable conduct on
your part"
He gathered his remaining strength, and
then said slowly:
"There is grave secret in M. Forney's life.
His name is not Forney, but it hides another
which is known to you, and which was dis
lonored"
"Dishonored, you sayp
"Yes, by an infamous condemnation. For
ney is All escaped convict, condemned for
assassination to hard labor for life in New
Caledonia, from whence he escaped to
America"
She had been standing, but now fell into
chair, almost fainting.
His name, his real nameg" she c,icd in a
strangling voice.
Roger Laroque, my fathers friendl"
She had known what he was going to say
before he pronounced the words But wild
hope made her ask. Perhaps he did not know
all, but when she heard those words, uttered
with steely hardness, she felt that nothing
was hidden from her son. She was so white
that one would have said she had secret
wound from which every drop of her life
blood had flowed. Her son dared not look at
her. Still she did not faint, but tried to over
come her agitation, and lie for his sake. for
she could not bear to let him believe all he
knew
"Why, yes, believe do remember the
fact This Roger Laroque, the wretch, he
killed q man to rob him, and-and the--tbe
exertion Of defending him was too much for
your poor father who was in very feeble
health. But he had an idea that this Roger
had saved his life once. and SO his honor
= a