The morning call., 1892-02-21
| THE BXILB'O
Wild AMBITION.
A Strange Story by De MaupaSSalt, the
Now Mad Novelist.
Man Gathering Immense Wealth in For
eign Land for Woman Who Had Ruined
Him-Eis Remarkable Love for Her.
Translated for THE SUNDAY CALL.

Translated for THE SUNDAY CALL
shall not give either the name of the
country or that of the man. 1t was far.
very tar from here, upon a fertile and torrld
coast Since morning we had been follow
ing the shore covered with crops aud the
blue sea covered with sunshine Flowers
were growing very close to the waves,
slight waves so gentle and lulling. 1t was
bot-a sluggish heat, perfumed by the rich,
damn and fruitful soil. One seemed to
breathe the OdOr OF buds.
had been told that | would find hOspl
tality that evening at the house OF French
man who dwelt in an orange grove at the
extremity OF a pTomontory. VINO was he
| did not as yet know.
lie had arrived one morning ten years be-
fore; he had bought land, planted vine
wards and sOwed grain; he had tOlled, that
man, with passion and Jury; then, from
month to month, from year to year, aug
mpDting his domoin, fertilizing necessarily
the strong and virgin soil, he had amasseu
fortune by his indefatigable labor
Nevertheless, he was toiling sui, they
said rising at dawn, securing his helus IN
iii night and constantly experimenting, ne
seemed haTassed by fixed idea, tortured by
the Unsuitable desire orm0ney, when noun
ing mOderates, nothing appeaSe5.
The sun was sinking when | reached his
dwelling. 1t was located, as l had been IN
formed at the extremity OF cape, amld
orange trees It was an exceedingly plain
large square house overlooking the sea.
THE ExILE's WELCOME.
As I was approaching. q man with long
heard came to the door. Having saluted
him. I asked him for shelter during the
night. He offered me his hand, with smile
Come in. monsieur, and make yourself
at home"
at my command, with the perfect ease ana
familiar good grace Of man Of the world !;
then he left me, saying:
We will dine when you are ready 10 come
Ne dined. in fact, tote-a-tete, upon ter
race facing the sea. spoke to him, in the
FIRST place. of the country so rich, so distant
and so unknown. lie smiled, replying alb
seutly:
IVES. this country is beautiful; but no
land pleases a man when il is remote from
the one lie loves
Then you regret France ,?
81 regret Paris.
"Why do you not return there?'
ION! | shall do So
Aud gradually we began 10 talk OF french
society. the bOulevards and the things OF
Paris; he questioned me like man who
had been acquainted with such matters,
mentioning names to me, all the familiar
names upon the side wall OF the Naude-
Vile.
"Who goes TO TortOn's now?"
"Sul the same people, the dead ex-
cepted"
| pazed at him attertiyely, pursued by a
vague recollection. Surely | haG seen that
face somewhere but where. when? lie
seemed fatgued, though vigorous, sad.
fbough resOlute His long beard fell upon
auh eQD1ptTulag Hp uTQEnnN II at
the chin, running his hand down TO the end
Of IT, A tIfe bald, he had Gushy eye
brows and a thick mustache which mingled
with the hair on his cheeks.
THE WOMEN OF PARIS.
Behind us the sun was sinking into the
sea, casting upon the coast fiery mist; the
blussOming orange trees eXhaled into the
evening all their strong and delicious
aroma.
He saw nothing but me. and. with fixed
glance, be seemed 10 perceive IN my eyes,
in the depths Of my soul, the taT-oh picture.
beloved and well known, OF the broad,
shaded sidewalk which leads from the Made
leine TO the Rue DTOuat.
do you know BoutrelleY p
Yes Of course"
SIS he much changed"
Yes; his hair is as white as snow"
"And La Ridame?"
"Stll the same as ever"
And the women? Tell me about the
women. Let me see. Are you acquainted
with Suzanne Verner?"
Yes she is old, finished"
''Ab l-and Sophie Astier@
Dead"
Poor girl! Doyou-do you know"
But he stopped suddenly; then, in an
altered voice and with countenance grown
pa!lid on the instant, he resumed
mo. it's best for me not 20 talk any more
on that subject; 1t dIstresses he too much!"
And, as If 10 change the direction of his
thoughts, he arose.
''Will you go in AGAIN."
Certainly"
And he preceded me into his house.
THE EXILE's HOME.
The rooms on the ground floor we're enor-
nous, bare, gloomy and seemed abandoned
Plates and glasses were lingering upon the
tables, left there by the tawny-skinned ser
wants who roamed necessarily around the
vast dwelling. Two guns hung from two
nails on the wall. and IN the corners were
visible spades. fshnE-ines. dried palm
leaves and objects Of every description
thrown down hap-hazaTd by those who had
come in and ready at hand to be gathered
up by those went and CHANGED to need any
of them.
My host smiled.
This is the mansion, or rather the
shanty, of an exile" said he, "but my
chamber is in better condition; let us 90
there"
thought on entering the apartment that
| had penetrated into the shop Of a dealer in
curOsities, to such an extent was it filled
with things, eXtravagant singular and
varied things which l felt to be souvenirs.
Upon the walls were two pretty designs
by well-known painters, draperies, arms,
swords and pistols; then, exactly in the
center Of the principal panel, square Of
white satin in gilt frame.
Surprised, approached the latter to see
what it was, and perceived hairpin stuck
IN the middle of the shining material.
My host placed his hand upon my shout
der.
That" said he smiling, "is the only
thing l look at here and the only thing
have seen for ten years past N. Prud-
homme proclaimed That saber repre-
sents the best day of my existence, | can
say. That hairpin represents my whole
life"
/ sought for some commonplace phrase
and at last uttered:
you have suffered through a woman ?"
JEANNE DE LIMoURs.
lie resumed quickly:
Say that | am still suffering like a
wretch! But come out on the balcony A