Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1897-08-26
"Oh, I will go now" said the cap
tain, rising to follow his conductor.
XVII.

The young man bowed and led the
way UP stairs to the floor above, ana
TO a spacious and elegantly furnished
front parlor, where. reclining in q
large armchair near a front window,
sat Madame De Giacie, Ii fair-haired,
faded. graceful woman, dressed III
deep mourning.
MADAME. | have the honor TO pre-
sent to you Captain William fNuij0E, d
tie Isle-Captain Fuljoy. Madame In
Marquise De Glacie," said Mr.. Dun
bar, formally introducing the parties.
TIE honest old sailor bowed down to
the toes of his boots.
The marquise arose and curtesied
gravely. Their eyes met, and the lady,
with an effusion Of gratitude, sudden
ly held out her hand. exclaiming:
Monsieur lie Captaine. we must not
meet as strangers: | owe you more
than life: the preserver of my dear
child for so many years! how am to
repay your
Down went the captains brows
again to his toes. in acknowledgment
to this compliment.
"Be seated, Monsieur. I pray you,
and tell me how / can adequately
prove my gratitude for your so great
goodness" said the lady. reaching out
her hand and drawing a chair close TO
her own.
Madame. you owe me no debt of
gratitude. The sweet society Of my
little Da-. / mean your little girl.
was a great happiness to me-a great
happiness that I can only regret as
having been enjoyed at the cost of so
,,,.l ,Nns, - ~, ~ eotl .I,n aantoiD i'm
a grave, tender. respectful tone. as he
took the indicated seat by the lady.
Pain, All. heaven knows how in
tolerable were my ~sufferingsi Daily,
weekly. monthly. yearly, for so many
weary years, TO weep her loss. TO
yearn for her presence, and to fear for
her fate, to follow her in sick magma
tiCn through all the varied scenes or
want, woe. perhaps. also, wlckedness,
70 which her wandering life would
lead her. To lie awake night after
night for years and years, praying that
she might be dead and safe,-Ah!
think how n mothers heart must be
wrung before she can pray for the
death of iler child But. TO Judge how
/ have suffered, Monsieur, look upon
mer
The captain turned n reverential
glance to the lady's face for a moment
and then lowered his eyes with a 10y
ly bend of his gray, head. saying:
1T is past. Madame. and you are still
your.g. with many years of life before
you. to be Frightened by the love of
your good and beautiful daughter"
And that | still have that fair hope,
that my child i been preserved TO
me, and that she is good and beauti-
ful, ] owe 20 you, Monsieur! Oh. how
shall | repay you? I would. with my
very life, il t;iat could do any good.
N.Y. friend said ,ae Lady. fervertly.
Madame. | am al old man. looking
for all future rewards to heaven alone.
And in this case, / repeat to YOU, You
owe me nothing. | have been more
than repaid in the delight | have taken
from the society of my little Da-,
your little girl, / mean, And | ought,
rather, TO beg you to forgive me for
being tunconsciously) so happy at the
expense of your sorrow
Monsieur. your great goodness rem
ders all reply impossible. | will say
no more. except 10 entreat you to speak
TO me of my child" said the lady.
You wish TO know the history of
my adoption Of herr inquired the cap
tain.
II do" answered the lady.
The old man began at the begin
ming" and told the lady all the partic-
ulars of his first acquaintance with
little Daney. his subsequent adoption
OF her. his happy companioIship with
her. and so forth. up to the time of
his taking her TO Paris. on the specula-
ton of finding some clew to her friends.
Then the captain paused In embarrass-
ment. He was the most modest of all
bashful old bachelors: he blushed TO
speak TO a fair woman of love. court
ship and marriage; he dreaded, espe-
cially. to inform this mother of the
wedding of her long-lost, lately-found
daughter; and so. in the midst of his
narrative, lie suddenly fell silent.
Monsieur has something that he
hesitates 70 say to me? Alasl Ices any
misfortune Turk behind my coming
happiness? Is 1t well with my child?''
said the marquise, anxiously.
"Ob. yes. Madame; it Is very well
with her: extremely well. indeed: she
is very happy: especially happy; both
she and the colonel: for do they not
call a newly-married bride and groom,
par excellence. happy"
"'Newly-married? bride? groomg
Monsieur, do you mean to tell me that
my daughter is-wedded?"
"Madamei' exclaimed the distressed
old man. with the blood rushing to his
cheeks and the tears to his eyes-"Ma-
dam, l beg your pardon. on my knees,
for marrying my little Da- I mean
your accomplished daughter, to my
nephew, without your consent. But,
just think. Madame, / knew nothing of
your existence, ignorant recluse that /
was, and. therefore, l could not apply
TO you for your sanction of the nup-
tials. l beseech you to pardon me.'
The marquise gazed with surprise.
compassion and admiration upon the
simple. sensitive. earnest old man. She
generously swallowed the sobs of ma
ternal sorrow that arose when she
found it would not be a maiden daugh-
, ter she would clasp to her bosom; and
took the captains hand, earnestly ex-
claiming
Excellent old friend! DO not mis-
take surprise for dlsapprobation, or,
still worse, for reproach! What. re-
proach you for the browning act of
-. ".