Connecticut western news., 1895-08-29
THEYOUNG SEIGNEUR

His chief occupatl on In the daytime was to stand on the bench by the small barred window and watch the pigeons on the roof and in the caves of the hos pital opposite. For five years he had done this, and it was the one thing in his whole life during that time which had charm for him. Every change of as plainly as if he could see the surface of the world. In the summer the states seemed to have great fire beneath them. for quivering hot air rose up from them, and the pigeons never alight- ed on them save in the early morning or in the evening. Just over the peak of the roof could be seen the topmost branch of an oak, too slight to bear the weight of the pigeons, but the caves un- der the projecting roof were dark and cool, and there his eyes rested when he tired of the hard blue sky and the glare of the roof He could also see the top of the hospital windows, barred up and down, but never anything within, for the windows were ever dusty, and all was dark beyond. But now and then he heard bitter cries coming through one open window in the summer time, and he listened to them grow fainter and fainter, till they sank to low moan ing and then ceased altogether.
 In winter the roof was covered for months by blanket of snow, which looked like shawl of impaoted wool, white and restful, and the hospital win dows were spread with frost. But the pigeons were the same-almost as gay and walking on the lodges of the roof or crowding on the shelves of the lead pipes. He studied them much, but he loved them more. His prison was less a prison because of them, and in the long five years of expiation he found himself more in touch with them than with the wardens of the prison or any of his com ,panions.
 With the former he was respectful, and he gave them no trouble at all. With the latter he had nothing in com- mon, for they were criminals, and he- he had blundered when wild and mad with drink, so wild and mad that he had no remembrance, absolutely none, of the incident by which Jean Vigot lost his life. He remembered that they had played cards far into the night; that they had quarreled, then made their peace again; that the others had left; that they had begun playing cards and drinking again, and then all was blurred, save for a vague recollection that he had won all the money Vigot had and had pocketed it. Then came a blank. He walked to find two officers of the law beside him, and the body of Jean Vigot, stark and dreadful, a few feet away
 When tho officer put their hands upon him, he shook them off. When they did it again, he would have fought them to the death had it not been for his friend, tall Medallion, who laid a strong hand on his arm and said, "Steady, Converse, steadyP and he had yielded to the firm, friendly pressure.
 Medallion had left no stone unturned to clear him at the trial, had himself played detective unceasingly. but the hard facts remained there, and on a chain of circumstantial evidence Louis Converse, the young seigneur, was sent to prison for ten years for manslaugh- ter. That was the compromise effected. Louis himself had said only that he didn't remember, but he could not be- lieve he had committed the crime. Rob- bery? He shrugged his shoulders at that. He insisted that his lawyer should not reply to the insulting and foolish suggestion.
 But the evidence had shown that Vigot had all the winnings when the other members of the party left the two. and this very money had been found ir Louis pocket. There was only Louis word that they had played cards again. Anger? Possibly. Louis could not re- mber, though he knew they had quar reled. The judge himself, charging the jury, said that he never before saw z prisoner so frank and outwardly honest, but warned them that they must not lose sight of the crime itself, the taking of human life, whereby woman waI made widow and child fatherless. And so with the few remarks the judge sentenced the young Seigneur te ten years in prison, and then himself shaken and pale, left the courtroom hur riedly, for Louis Converse's father hat been his friend from boyhood
 Louis took his sentence calmly, look ing the judge squarely in the eyes, ant when the judge stopped he bowed tt him, turned to the jury anS said: "Gen ! tlemen, you have ruined my life. Yor | don't know, and I don't know, who i killed the mau. You have guessed, ant | I take the penalty. Suppose I'm inno cent. How will you feel when the trutl comes out? You've known me more o
 less these 20 years, and you we said witl no more knowledge than I've got that
 did this miserable thing. I don't know but that one of you did it, but you ar' safe, and take my ten years. "
 He turned from them, and as he diC so he saw woman looking at him from I a corner of the courtroom with strange, wild expression. At the mo ment he saw no more than an excited | bewi ldered face, but afterward this fac, came and went before him, flashing il and out of dark places in a mockinf
 sort of way. AS he went from th
 courtroom another woman made he
 way to him in spite of the guards.
 was the little chemist's wife, who yeal
 before had been his fathers housekeepel
 who had been present when he fir
 opened his eyes on the world.
 My poor boyi My poor boy" st
 said, clasping his manaoled hands.
 He kissed her on the cheek, without
 word, and hurried on into his priso,
 and the good world was shut out. l
 prison he refused to see all visitors, eve
 Medallion. the little chemists wifi