Daily Kennebec journal., 1895-04-16

my wife in palace. so to Paris &c
make my fortune"
You like then this rotten splen
DOR" cried the deep voice of BeauS
licuX, from the shadow where he SAT
by 'the duchess on the other side of
/ the wide hearth. ALAS! 1t is only the
scum on a sea of filth and iniquity.
That laughter of the people who float
over it-I hear through it only the
groan of the people who produce it''
~ shall not search too deeply" said
Pierre. zone man cannot reform the
world. Let me take the best of il
while it is going-money, jewels,
houses, horses"
"And You call that the best? Money
wrung out of sweat? Idle glitter OF
Jewels while others have scarcely rags
Houses that are gilded seraglios, while
there are men and women sleeping on
wattlcs of straw
1T will not be my fault, said Pierre,
''that they sleep on straw. Pshaw.
When l am rich l shall not keep it all
to myself. l shall take pleasure in
giving"
"He has read of Alnaschar," said
Jean.
''In giving!" cried Beauxlieux "Therc
is no giving! 1t is theirs! 1t is their
labor, their lives, their deprivation,
their want, their suffering, that made
all this money; no matter how you
come by it. 1t is theirs! You can give
them nothing. You can only restore
in part
'.What puzzles me-" said Jean, "is
how these others can think that they
love the good God, and, knowing that
He loves all men, be willing to wrong
any man. No, no, when | recollect
the story of Jesus, that He died for
men, have felt myself unwilling to ac-
cept the sacrifice. l have felt that |,
too, must surrender myself, if not to
die. then to live for men. Never for
myself, only for them
"Oh, Jean!' cried Bcauxlicux, clasp
ing his hand "And l shall live with
you"
81 suppose Jean is going to be n
priest?" said the pretty Victorine, with
a little insolent shrug.
Not of any church, Victorine," said
Jean. Il shall not need to be blessed
of the apostolic succession in order to
carry hope into dungeons.
"Oh, you make me cold at the heart
o; me-" cried Victorine.
Beauxlcux had now set himself scri-
ously at work to learn the profession
in which NJ. Eticnne was so accom-
plishcd. He was not one under any
circumstances to be idle. His mother
had not wished this study, however;
she would have him wait, even If it
were in poverty, preserving his nobil-
ity. till the government should give
him his own again. But the hated en-
pire had fallen, and it had been re-
placed by the even more hated rcpub-
lie. That had not signitied greatly to
her; it was never 'Francc" to her, it
was alw,ys "My son." But now even
Henry V. was dead. There is no
more hope" NJ. Etienne had declared.
Let his grace do as he will" And it
was NJ. Eticnne who found the means
for Beauxiieux to go to Paris and finish
his undertaking. His mother had some
dim idea that all things were open 10
him as his fathers son, as the last of
his exalted name; she had no idea
whatever that the name now was re-
meInbcrcd only as a matter of history,
nor that in Paris the young duke was
known simply as Beauxlieux, a student
of promise from 4 southwestern depart
ment.
1t was on his twenty-frst birthday
that his mother formally made over to
him his possessions. He was little
sad about it-not that the chateau was
q ruin, the forest so thin, the fields so
few and bare, but that his mother
should break her heart over these
affairs. For himself, he was full of
strength and hope, and nothing mat
tered since he was well and was alive,
since he had NJ. Etiennc and Jean;
since, above all, he had his mother.
His mother, not yet in her fortieth
year, was still beautiful, her hair black
as the ravens wing, her dark clear
skin as smooth as a girls, her eyes
glowing as the midnight stars, her
smile heartwarming. As she stood in
the warm light, for Olympic had candles
in every sconce, wearing that pale
primrose satin of more than twenty
years ago, covered now with black
lace of n far greater age, almost
wrapped in the glow of the Beaux-
licux diamonds, as in cloud of bright
ness, preserving all the sweet and
stately grace of her first youth. she
was still q sight to make a mans heart
trcmblc. She seemed to beam and
sparkle as she walked, her every move
ment shedding a stream OF light: and
Jean himself did not find it possible to
envy her in his heart that night the
possession Of the diamonds, that they
might be sold and their price given to
the poor. AS fer her, it would as coon