The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1895-11-29

Monsieur Bertran's house. Moasieur Ot-
ards sign has fallen down! There 90
Pierre Gurchard and Madeline Goiran.
Pardon me for speaking so loud, if you
please, Madame, but on such day as this
one is curious to know what is going on
down there"
'Babbler!' grumbled the widow
Annette's information thus coolly re-
ceived, she reiapsed into silence, but flat
tened her nose against the glass to see bet
ter what was going on in the street below.
mo, never!" she cried Never at sea
have l known storm like this. Oh! how
terriber'
Madame Baudoin folded her work and
returned to her fovorite pacing 9 of the apart
ment.
The storm was merciless The two lone
women heard the shrieking of the wind,
the rattling of the blinds on the neighbor-
ing houses the grinding of the big iron
chains on the pier, and the noise of falling
timbers. The ocean had lashed itself in
to a white and black fury.
Madame Baudoin stopped short in her
walk, and turned to her servant
"Ah, well, if you will be so curious, put
on your MtJotS and go out like the others,
and hear the latest news"
Annette was ready in minute. Just as
she was going out, the widow said:
"As soon as you have seen, come back
and tell me what the crowds gathe ed for
there beyond"
Old Annette went out into the storm and
rain. Madame Baudoin walked to the far
end of the room. Her arms were crossed;
her hands were hidden in her sleeves; her
lips were tightly pressed.
She seemed to be coldly inspecting each
object she passed on her way.
Ten minutes had passed. Was Annette
never coming back? The wind howled the
louder one heard nothing but its fierce,
strange, fear-compelling utterance.
Suddenly Madames cold look changed,
and her features seemed to be under some
dreamy influence of gentler thought. She
was gazing in a corner of her room, where
stood little bed,-the bed of Il child.
In ancient Norman houses, such as hers
old things are carefully guarded, and sell
dom change their places. This object, the
little bed of her son, was where it stoodin
babyhood. Her only son, who was out
battling with the angry ocean!
She had been thinking of him for one
long hour, ever since Annette spoke of the
agony of parents whose sons were out at
sea. She had been thinking of the big ro
bust, manly fellow who had been a fisher
man for five years, and who had defied her,
saying:
"Have your own way, and l will have
mine"
But now it was of Louis the baby she
was dreaming. The little lad with locks
of gold and deep blue eyes, the baby boy
who had loved her and encircled her neck
with his sweet young arms; whose laugh
ter she had rejoiced in, and whose touch
ing tears she had kissed from the long
lashes.
Then she remembered her will, and the
projects she had made for his future while
the lad studied at his little desk.
A deep sigh broke the air, and she fell
upon her knees before the little bed and
bowed her head, and made the sign of the
cross
But prayer, the blessed relief that comes
to the patient souls who trusts, came not to
give her peace. They are tlourishing, rich,
but they are obstinate, too. Sometimes
one might almost say that their natures
were cut out of stone.
Madame Baudoin rose to her feet, took
down her mantle, wrapped it about her,
and fastened it securely, then she moved
tward the door.
That Annette will never Gomez she
She went out of the house with
firm, long strides, into the storm. As she
turned the street, group barred passage
The group surrounded two or three fisher
erman dripping with water, their boots
and garments encrusted with seaweed
Just as they had been taken, half dead,
out of the sea. She stopped short, and in
a hoarse voice said:
Have all returned 2"
One of the men, after consulting the
eyes of his astonished companions, re-
piled:
Yes
Madame Baudoin went on at her pace
down the road. One of the fishermen left
the group, and called after her:
Madame. Madame Bautlon. Where
are you going:'
"Over yonder." The widow raised her
arm, and pointed towards the sea. The
fisherman caught at her mantle.
For what? The weather is horrible,
and will make you ill., Go back to your
house and, if there is news, we will bring
it to YOU. Since all have returned, why
do you go:'
"All." The window looked searching
ly into the mans eyes.
Yes, of course
Swear it ~
"Oh, if it comes to be particular, per-
haps not all-yet. There are others who
have landed at Yport, or perhaps at Fe
camp. Who knows?"
The old woman fell a-trembling Her
face became livid. She leaned on old An
nette to save herself from falling.
1T is my fault. 1t is my fault my
wicked PRIDE
Annette and the fishermen tried to per-