The Opelousas courier., 1891-01-17

shaken by approaching steps ana voices.
Was it the rest of the party that had
Jagged behind and now tardily joined
thcm2
Mignon, crimsoning and trembling,
kept her eyes,on the ~ivy-colored wall IN
front of her and her shoulders turned.
But Count Holm looked IN the direction
of the advancing steps and incontinently
stood as though petrified. Through the
half-ruined arch of the great gateway
there came, not little Miss Fitzgerald
and the residue of the company, but a
portly traveller, accompanied by a guide,
and who at the sight of the young man
smiled broadly and recognizingly under
his grey beard.
"Hello, Rob! Well met, my boy! And
you, Miss Mignon, too2 Come and greet
your guardian, you little rogue, and
don't stand staring there! Yes, / took
O berth on one of the German lines just
a week sooner than | expected. Found
| could get off and here | am"
AS he talked Mr.. Massey had been
looking from n of the young people to
the other, and the smile had begun to
fade from his face and to give place to a
puzzled frown. What was amiss with
Rob Beokwith? He stood there, white,
speeches., with e~vasive eyes, not the
frank fellow he knew him to be at all.
And Mignon had passed from the dream
ing child as which her guardian remem-
bered her into a stately woman whose
glance seemed to wlther the young man
to the ground.
ssUncle!" she said slowly, and she
pointed to the suggestions Teutonic no.
bleman. $50 you know who this Isl"
EDO I know who Rob Beckwith is2 /
should hope sol And 7 am glad that you
seem to know, too. You've heard Of the
Beckwiths long ago, heaven knows.
They've been my neighbors at home for
years. I had no idea that Rob was
knocking about this part of Europe just
now, however,
The last word expired abruptly, for
Mignon had turned from them without a
sound and vanished through the cool
shadows Of the gray and broken arch
aI don't say that I uphold him. cried
Mr.. Massey impatiently. 81 repeat that
it was a knavish piece of deception-only
| proving how lost to the laws of what is
| honorable and what is not a fellow can
| become when he has the misfortune to
| fall in love with one of you women. But
I do say that Rob meant no harm. It's
true that he loved you before ever you
| laid ewes on him. He used to see you
coming to my house at home, and one
day he wrote to me-, just before you
came abroad, telling me how he felt
about you. I replied that your head
was SO turned with nonsensical European
romance that | believed IL had not the
shadow of a chance. So | suppose he
took the matter in his own hands. You
kad made up your mind to marry a title,
a historic name, the scion of an old fam
lily, and he played Claude Melnotte to
the lady Of Lyons. Presumably he
thought if you once learned to love him
for himself you would not mind when
YOU discovered that he was, after all,
only plain Rob Beckwith-who is pos
sessed OF a very fair fortune of his own,
by the way"
aYou need say nothing more, uncle"
Mignon spoke coldly, collectively, i'm
pessively. aYou need not Xcu DIR.
Beckwith to me. He knows his own Of
Tense, and I know it. We will leave the
subject"
In silence they descended the stairs
and entered the carriage, where Miss
Fitzgerald already sat. Another carriage
behind carried their luggage. They
were going, Mignon had said, always
with the same strange calmness, that she
did not care where, only they must go.
Rob Beckwith's repeated prayers for an
/ interview, a hearing, she had absolutely
disregarded.
81 have nothing to say, nor has ne"
had been her one remark.
Down the town street they now rat,
tied at q brisk pace. Mignon had hel
white, set face turned away, speaking nc
word. Near the railroad station another
street crosses the one on which they were
1 QTlViMgt anus IAOIdDItdig NUnfuShoA ~
hurrying carts, carriages and drays oc-
CURED. Still wrapped in her icy alb
sorption, Mignon heard d sudden shrek
that pierced the air. Miss Fitzgerald
sat bolt upright with a paid face, MIR.
Massey sprang ont just as their " car
rage halted, and then Mignon saw Rob
Beckwifh's tense visage in the crowd,
saw him throw himself forward.
It was like q dream to the girl. Slowly
tho truth came to her benumbed percep-
tons. A child-a pitifuI little street
waif-had fallen under the horses hoofs.
and Rob BeckWitn, in the desperate at
tempt to save the child, had been dashed
senseless to the ground.
They raised him softly and bore hin
to the nearest house. Then Mr. Massey
turned upon The girl . face ~ white ii
that inanimate one, but thrilled By
strange passion 0f scorl1.
.sTalk to me Of your romantic dreams
grill These ere The true k~night-this
The herois1n, The nobility that count uasI