The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-08-25

upon the stone floor. The last play or the night was made as he desperately leaned there at the edge of the table. The stir of departure seemed to arouse him. With a startled look Of piteous apology. and yet a courtly gesture or deprecation. he faitered:
 "Ah. yes Your pardon. gentlemen. Good night and Adioss-Que talle otro.'
 In an instant the barrel of a pistolete was pressed against his splendid head. But the same instant the agile erou- pier had vauited the wide table and struck the weapon from his hand.
 II.
 Come with me-" said the croupler gently but in a tone of kindly com mand.
 They left the casino: walked silently for time in the cooling outer air; and finally passed beneath a quaint old which were a tiny fountain and many perfume-laden flowers. to an upper gall lery. where the croupier graciously bade the Don enter his apartments.
 Some simple food and wine were brought. These Don Enrique at first refused. now aghast at his attempt upon his own life. bewildered by the strangeness of his companions conduct and speechlessly awaiting some word of explanation.
 No, Don Enrique" said the crou- pier, with kindly shrug and win- ming smile. "A mans empty stomach gt A,,II lac. taI tA Vat ri Then you will again become a reasona- ble being"
 The would be suicide complied me- chanically enough. But the diploma tic croupier was right. He touched bell. A young woman with dark. rest less eyes and sweet, but haunted face, whom he called Griselda, brought more wine and a few cigars. The place soon took on the glow of comfort and good fellowship. Don Enrique could bear the mystery no longer. He said impulsively:
 "senor, friend and stranger, no words can express my sense of thankfulness and humiliation; thankfulness for your interference in so degrading an at- tempt upon my own life, humiliation at my utter powerlessness to requite you. Gratitude is indeed a sorry coin with out the royal signet of power. I am homeless, objectless, ruined manw
 You are not, Don Enrique. I say you are not" returned the croupier warmly. You are heir to great es- tates in Arragon. You have youth, courage; grand courage, senor!'' he con- tiHued with a meaning look, "as we of Don Carlos cabelleria know to our loss, from your heroic charge in the canon beyond the Ebrow
 You were soldier, then?" ex- elaine Don Enrique, springing to his feet and approaching his new found friend.
 The croupier nodded gravely.
 And not a a-?"
 'Loathesome croupier of Monte Car To-" finished the other with a dark look in his face.
 ...No; and yes;". he added lightly after a little time. NO, as to my past. Yes, as to my present."
 ''I implore you to reveal your true character, my more than friendv'
 The croupier arose and gently forced Don Enrique into his seat. The ac- -tion had delicate protest in 1t that com manded obligation; and it had obliga- tion in it which hinted of command.
 "To reveal ones true character is sometimes more than the greatest will do, senor. I am only another one ru- ined by the fortunes of war; That is all. Since you, Don Enrique unhorsed me at the head of my command at Ebro, and rode over my wounded body, and since my leader, Don Carlos is fu- gitive in France, 'Le croupier de Monte Carlo is title which at least gives me bread. The other," and here he turned his face away for a moment, "cannot do even so much as that"
 And that title was-?"
 Count Basil de Orense, at your ser vicew
 Don Enrique flew to the man and clasped him in his arms. A thousand recollections of brave tales of the house of Orense, told him at his fathers knee, flooded upon him. The sense of his great obligation to one so reduced; the emotions of a brave soldier who meets in dolor and loss a former fearless an- tagonist; the apparent magnanimity, noble philosophy and silent sufferings of one who could himself reach no greater depths of misfortune; indeed every high, ehivalrous thought which could prompt trust, admiration and gratitude, swept over him; and 1t was no mean thing that he wept.
 Count, we are brothers forever more" cried Don Enrique.
 with all my heart-amen" respond ed Count Basil with great solemnity; but with a sudden start, for some- thing like sigh came from behind the swaying cortina, followed by the rustic as of woman's gown.
 With excuses Count Basil stepped hastily to the gallery. Had not his guests overwhelming bewilderment at his own changing fortunes rendered him oblivious, he would have heard the sound of a sharp scuffle and blow, and a low voice full of deadly menace, hiss ing at some dejected listening chlprit:
 "Begone you witch! or I'll grill your itching gipsy ears and babbling tongue! Cursed was when took you from the roads of Catalonia!"
 As the man who spoke these words re-entered his face was all blandness and compassion.
 "Don Enrique," he resumed with se- there is good fortune for you, but nevermore for me, beneath this very roof. But yesterday a courier with escort arrived at Monte Carlo.