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

mOUQer ulu nOU neeu I'd QueSllOu suo udu
noticed the traces Of sorrow and trouble ON
his mobile face on his departure; she saw joy
and hope when he returned.
Something pleasant has happened, my
song'
He smiled, but only said:
II can tell you nothing, mother-yet"--
"Well9"
II am happy and wish you to share my
JOY"
"And her refusal"
"Was not on her own account. There was
an obstacle between U.S."
"How many mysteriesl and the obstacle
has ceased to existp
"No.n
"And your marriago?"
"Soon, l hope 1t depends on certain
things, which am not at liberty to toll, but
l hope soon."
"Pray God you have your wish, my dear
boy. ask no more to render my own hap
piness complete" said this mother, who was
SO blind. Afterwards they both remembered
this wish. Her face cleared and she grew
quite cheerful in the knowledge that her
favorite son was to be happy. Not one COM
miserating thought did she bestow upon her
elder son, whose heart lay like lead in his
bosom, and who had no idea that Raymond
was Ills successful rival
From the day he saw Suzanne last Ray
mond had but one desire and one preoccupa-
ton, and that was to discover the mystery in
the affair concerning her father.
AT Paris at police headquarters, he found
no difficulty in getting all the facts he de-
sired. The Laroque affair was not forgot
ten, and with the exception of Henriette and
Lucien all those who had been especially in
terested in it were still alive, and he thought
he could easily find them.
The days passed in q minute reconstruction
and copy of all the testimony, and, though
he could not see his way clear to prove it, he
saw clearly how justice had followed up
Roger Laroque upon preconceived theory
of his guilt given by M. Lecroix, and thus
they had never made any movement toward
| the discovery Of the real criminal. He studied
| the testimony Of Suzanne and her mother, Of
Roger and Victoria, and noticed that not one
| of them varied. He did not wonder that an
| innocent man was tried and condemned on
| such evidence; indeed, he wondered more
| how he was not sentenced to death.
One mystery appeared in all Rogers an
swers. Had Lucien penetrated itl Perhaps
| he had. Was it not possible that among the
| papers relating to this affair might be found
some mention Of it9 At any rate he could
| look. In a large closet at Meridon farm there
was an immense quantity Of paper, books and
| briefs, which had belonged to his father, and
| he was quite certain that he should find them
undisturbed, with the accumulated dust of
| all these years upon them.
This would have been painful task, to
open and search all these traces Of his bril-
| liant fathers ambitious talent, under other
circumstances. Now it seemed pious labor,
Ia .Ivo.l
| with regret of that honorable, loyal life so
nobly spent and lost.
Until evening he worked without finding
anything; then Re at last came upon the
notes which bore upon tho assassination Of
Larouette. Little by little he found the pa
pers which made up the file. and finally he
| found the notes and most of the final speech
| which Lucien had given. He read it with
heart beating high with conflicting emotions,
and with tears standing in his eyes. The
| eloquent passages fairly spoke even now, with
| the dust Of age upon them. At nearly every
| page Raymond found few words as mar
| ginal notes, such as: "What is this mystery
| of the money! "What internal part has this
woman played in Rogers life, that he will
not contest" ~ see q woman's hand in this"
and "Who is this womanr'
any father was not deceived" said Ray
| mond. "There was q woman, but who is
| she?"
At last the desk in the closet was empty,
| and there remained but few papers. This
| desk had belonged to Julia, but in removal to
| the farm it had been placed in here and all
the other papers with and upon it. AS there
were still apparently two or three leaves Of
the brief missing, Raymond took hold Of
| some papers and they seemed caught. With
his penknife he tried to loosen them and in so
doing he touched spring somewhere, and a
| narrow secret drawer few open, and in it
was photograph of handsome, noble look
| ing man.
The photograph was clean and in every
other way in good condition, except that
| where the heart Of the man would be was a
cut clear through the paper, as though done
| with some sharp instrument Idly turning It
in his hand. Raymond saw written on the
back, in his mothers delicate but peculiar
handwriting, the following dates:
"The 2sth Of July 1872, at II 80 p. m.
"The 3Oth of July, 1872.
"The 18th Of August, 1872"
What was thisl Why these three dates be-
hind the picture Of this unknown in his
mothers writing, and besides. who was this
mani He felt that he had seen him some-
where
Finally, prey to vague uneasiness, Ray
mond placed the photograph in his pocket
and went out Of the house. He walked, no
| ran, he threw himself ON the ground, but
wherever he went he was haunted by that
face in the picture, and also those dates in
his mothers writing. He looked again and
with q groan Of agony hid the face, then
again he looked, this time as one faces q
forlorn hope, and doubt was no longer pos
sible; this was, without even one sole little
| possibility Of doubt, Roger Laroque as he was
before this awful accusation fell upon him.
| To be sure, the hair and beard were dark, the
face was young and care free, and that awful
disfguring scar had not destroyed the SYM
metry Of the left side of his face; but the
same great dark eyes, high forehead and gen
eral cast Of features were there. William For
ney Of today and Roger Laroque of old were
one. Thaa why these three dates in his
mothers writingi She must have known
Laroque well, but why had she never mcn-
toned his namel All the afternoon and until
late he remained in the woods, entering at
night somber and silent.
"What is the matter with you, my boyi
Ara