The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1891-10-03

sieur ; you are Ivan, my servant. |
make but one condition it is that
you will never speak to me, that you
will say no word to thank me on any
preteXt whatever.
The stranger bowed without a
word.
Soon a fresh halt was made, and
the officials in uniform entered the
train. The Countess handed them
the papers, and pointing to the man
seated in the far end of the carri-
age
My servant, Ivan; here is his
passport.
The train started again.
During the whole OF the night
they remained tete a.tete, dumb
both.
In the morning, on stopping at a
German station, the stranger
alighted. Then standing by the door,
he said:
Pardon, me madame, that l break
my promise, but l have deprived
you of your servant it is only fair
that | should replace him. Is there
anything you require?
She replied coldlv:
Go and send my maid.
He went. Then disappeared.
Whenever she alighted at refresh
ment room she saw him watching
her from a distance. In due course
they arrived at Mentone.
One day, as | was receiving my
patients in my study, | saw tall
man enter. Doctor, he said, | come
to ask news of the Countess Marie
Baranow.
She is beyond hope, l replied.
She will never return to Russia.
And this man fell to sobbing then
he arose and went out, staggering
like a drunken man. That same
evening l told the Countess that a
stranger had been to me to ask after
her health. She seemed touched,
and told me the tale | have just told
you. She added:
This man, whom | do not know,
follows me like my shadow. | meet
HIM every time go out. He looks
at me very strangely, but he has
never spoken to me.
She reflected, and then added:
Look, there he is, below my Win
dow
She rose from her sofa drew the
curtains aside, and showed me the
man who had called upon me, sitting
on bench on the rromenade, his
eyes raised to the hot |. He saw us,
rose and walked away without once
turning his head. So it was that l
took part in a strange and incom
prehensible episode in the love of
these two beings who were quite un-
known to one another.
He loved with the devotion of a
rescued animal, grateful and de-
voted until death. He came every
day to ask me, "How is she ?" know
ing that | had guessed. And he
wept bitterly when he had seen her
pass, paler and weaker every day.
She said to me:
| have spoken but once to this
singular man, and it seems to me |
have known him for years.
And when they met she returned
his bow with grave and charming
smile. knew she was happy-she
so lonely and dying. l knew she
was happy to be loved with such
constancy and respect with this ex-
aggerated poesy, with this devotion
ready for all hazards. And yet,
faithful to her obstinate though high
minded resolve, she absolutely re-
fused to receive him, to know his
nan or to speak to him. She said
"No, no that would spoil our
strange friendship. We must re-
main strangers to one another.
As to him, he was of a certainty
kind of Don Quixote, for he took no
steps to approach her He was de
termined to keep to the letter the
absurd promise he had made to her
in the train.
Often during the long hours Of
/ weakness she rose from her sofa to
draw back the curtains, and look if
he was there below the window. And
when she had seen him, always i'm
movable seated on his bench, she