Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1892-10-22

and from there wherever it please(
the winds of heaven to take him
but that night he would shake tb,
dust Of st. Senior of his feet forever
He was fisherman, he had a boa1
of his own and house: and Marie ha(
dowry; SO there was nothing to pre-
vent them from marrying at once
nothing except Marie's perversity
How provoking she was; and TIT
worst Of it was he loved her so des
perately-the more the scorned him,
the more he loved her, and the little
coquette knew it.
He turned on his heel and gave q
farewell glance at La Metairie, with
its matched roof and dormer win.
dows, its roses and its poplars, all Of
which he loved so well-he should
never see them again; the swallows
would come back next spring and
build in the caves over Marie's win.
dow, but he-he would never, never
come back.
Happy swallows! Miserable, mis-.
cradle Jean! One last lingering look,
and then Jean turned his back on the
farm and walked through the village;
past the cotton-factory and the great
water-mill that worked it, and the
poplars that surrounded it, towards
the pretty little church with its
quaint spire.
The church-door was open, and
Jean turned in; by that time to-mOr-
row he would have only a plank of
wood between him and eternity. He
would light candle to our Lady, Star
of the Sea, to watch over him, and
60 to confession before be left his ma
tive place forever; he would do the
best he could for his soul; earthly
happiness was denied him: thank God
there remained a Heaven to win.
The confessional stood in dark re-
cess, at the opposite side of the
church to the door by which Jean
had entered. There was a bell close
to it, with which to summon the
priest, if he was not lin the confess
ional.
The church was empty, and Jean
having lighted a candle and said a
prayer at the Lady-altar, went into
the confessional and knelt there,
knowing the priest would come and
sit, as he always did, at half-past six.
Presently jeans devotions were
disturbed by step he would have
recognized in Australia or Siberia as
Marie's; it advanced up the aisle to
the lady-altar, and there it stopped.
Jean rose from his knees, and,
peeping round the corner of the re-
cess, looked to see if he were right,
though he had not a shadow of doubt
on the subject. Yes, it was Marie.
Her back was towards him, as she
knelt with eyes and hands raised to-
wards the statue of our Lady; she was
evidently praying earnestly. Pres
emily stifled sob reached jeans ears:
then her shoulders began TO heave,
her head sank on her hands, and she
sobbed wildly for some minutes.
81 was right; she does love me af-
ter all. Shall I 60 and comfort her?
I dare not; she would scorn me as she
has done sc often. Oh, if I were only
certain she loves me-if l could be
but sure" thought Jean.
Presently the sobs ceased, and as
the clock chimed half-past six, Marie
rose and came towards the confess
ional.
AS quick as the thought which &C.
Cured to him, Jean seated himself in
the priests place in the middle of the
closed the wooden doors
and drew the curtains. Marie was
coming to confession; he would hear
her, and dnd out if she loved him.
The confessional was so dark Marie
would not be able to see him if she
looked, and he could initiate the
priests voice to perfection.
Marie advanced to confessional, saw
the curtains were drawn, and con-
cluded the priest was sitting, so she
knelt down by the grating. After a
pause Jean drew back the
sliding shutter over the grating, NUT
tered the usual blessing in Latin, and
the unsuspecting Marie began her
confession.
Jean could see her profile through
the grille" her full face was turned
from him, but her eyes were cast
down, and the lashes were wet with
tears. She whispered a few ordinary
and then she burst out
with a sob:-
''Mon pere, I am so miserablen
.'Why, my chlld?" said Jean won
dering what on earth he should say
when she had finished.
because have driven Jean Tissot
to sea, He loves me, and 1 have
served him as served them all. I
at him. I cannot help it,
father. I am coquette. It is my
nature. l want to make them love
me. I love to hear them say they
love me, and then I laugh at them.
All! but you were right, father. You
told me / should do it once too often;
/ have done it now. / shall never
laugh again." said Marie with sob.
"Why not? asked Jean with a beat
ing heart.
''Why not? Because Jean has gone
to sea Oh! father, when he is out