San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-12-27

the ladies, with perceptible quaver
in their voices" why, that is mon
strous and unheard of, and you are
but endeayoring to terrify US by this
CHASTITY phraze."
"Come with me, and see for your
selves" replied the Due de Charities,
rising from the table, taking up one
of the candles, and bending his
steps to one corner of the spacious
dining hall. Silently, wonderingly
and tearfully, his guests followed
him. What did it all mean? Whose
skeleton could it be? Why was it kept
in the closet Were interrogatories
which each guest put to himself. with
lightning like rapldity. The hush
was profound and painful. A thrill
OF superstition and fear ran through
the minds of the ladies, as skeleton
suggested the idea of q ghost. The
Due de Charities, stopped, drew key
from his pocket, thrust it into the key
hole and opened the door of closet.
"COme forward, my friends, and
SEQ the skeleton in my closet,
he said, raising the candle
alOft. The scene was worthy
of the pencil of Salvador. The faces
of the guests formed picture gallery
each wore an expression of expecta-
ton, darkened by creeping horror.
Truly, looking at skeleton at the
hour of midnight, is a CHASTITY and
sOmbre kind of spectacle. Beyond
all question, there was the skeleton,
suspended on peg in the closet wall;
the mouth, with its white teeth,
seemed to grin "a horribly CHASTITY
grin" at the spectators, and after one
brief look, the ladies in the
party shudderingly covered their
faces and with hasty steps re-
turned to the table they bad
Quilted only a few moments before.
The Due de Charities silently closed
and locked the closet door, dropped
the key in his pocket, heaved pro-
found sigh, and beckOned to his male
friends to return to the dinner table.
As soon rs they had taken their
seats around the dining table again,
the Due de Chartres, said, "My
friends, the spectacle at which you
have but now gazed, is a sombre end
ing Of our merry feast, and L know
you are anxious to have an explain
alton of this CHASTITY mystery. The
skeleton is that of Pierre Dufour, my
foster brother---my playmate in child
hOod---my companion and friend in
youth and manhood. He loved me with
the deepest affection, and / returned
this unselfish affection. When was
twenty years old, went to Italy on
o tour, and Piene Dufour was my
companion and also my valet. My
temper was hot, quick and passion
ate,-a spark was enough to kindie
my combustible temper into a white
heat, and when l was in rage. L
was uncomfortable and frantic. One
night in Venice, on the Rialto, during
the mirth and festivities of the Car
nivaI, a jealous italian became infuri-
ated by my attention to, and admira-
ton Of his sweetheart, and over
whelmed me with Opprobrious terms,
which no brave man could tamely
endure. My sword was by my side
and naturally, it flew from the scab-
bard, and called to my insulting adj
versary to draw and defend himself.
He was as eager for the fray as l was,
aud whipped out bis sword and made
q terrible lunge at me- Dufour
jumped in between us, at that
moment, and my sword pierced his
heart, and he fell dead at my feet.
This increased my rage, and with
drawing NY SWOTu lIOul butUuI =
body, resolved TO sacrifice the Itai-
ian to the names of my friend. The
combat was brief. L was demon.
Supernatural strength was in my
arm. The italian was soon
lying at. my feet, weltering in blood
and gasping in death. Shouldering
the dead body of Dufour, brought
It to my room, without attracting OBJ
servatIon, and 1 resolved to bring
his bones to my castle and to keep
them in this closet as a warning to
me to curb my impetuous temper.
No language can describe my grief,
and remorse. True, the blow was
not aimed at Dufour-it was more
his fault than mine-it was misre-
able misadventure, throughout, some
times 1t appears to me TO have been
the work of fate, but my
grief and remorse was none
the less deep and painful. All this
happened thirty-one years ago, and
during all these thirty-one years, /
have not missed a single day, looking
on this skeleton in the closet, when
was In my castle. That is my story,
and now you know why happiness
and myself are strangers"
The guests were bathed in tears at
this recital, and took an affectionate
leave of the Due de Charities, in 81
lence.
Reader, in the foregoi narrative
have dressed up an old story in a
new dress, but perhaps this has by no
means improved it. In my next
shall have something more to say