The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1897-07-11
CHAPTER XII.


noyance from Picot. AS 1 calmly and
deliberately made the astounding reve-
lation which surprised him no less than
his captors. l cast one glance at him
and saw the mean expression of physi-
cal fear on his countenance give way
to incredulous amazement. But 1 had
no wish for explanation or interview of
any sort with him that night, and so,
as l finished speaking and observed
that my explanation had secured his
release, l drew Allan hurriedly into my
dressing room, resolutely closing the
door upon all others with the excep-
ton Of Jean and Lisa.
tn" wound was by no means a dan
Serni;S one, and the surgeon, who soon
appeared, preferred removing his pa
tient to his own office before extracting
the tiny bullet. 1t had been no diff
cult matter 70 find the lads father. who
was lettering about the stage entrance
OF the theater, probably Intending to
say goodnight to me as I went home.
He accompanied Allan, who made light
of the affair after his own bright,
brave way; and another, but for her
exceeding shyness and maidenly mod
esty. would fain, I think, have gone
with him also, to try her simple skill
upon his wounded body. There were
sore anxiety and distress in the sweet
blue eyes that watched his departure
Nistfully, and an answering tenderness
in the dark ones that gratefully reas-
sured their solicitude. All, ne! 1t was
a foregoae conclusion from the mo-
ment they met that those children
should love each other
1t is true that the next day, when
Stone came to me with the intelligence
that NJ. Picot Was waiting in the draw.
ing room to see me, 1 fully believed
that I was about to reap the first re-
salt of my act Of filial duty, and, brac-
ing my frmness up to the pitch of
applicability beyond a certain point
for I had decided that, now had own
ed him I would grant him a fixed al
lOwance-I went in to meet my visitor,
prepared for any degree Of impudent
eXtCrtion.
What was my surprise to discover in
his manner and demeanor a quality
that separated them widely from his
former attitude toward me! All self
assurance had dropped from him, and
all temerity too. A timidity seemed to
possess him, and a newly-acquired con-
sciousness of merit sat upon his sal
low brow. He rose, with downcast
eyes as entered and addressed me
with difference that bcrdered on ser
Witty 1t was a curious and marked
change that had come over him, quite
remarkable considering how short an
interval had produced it. 1t was as if
a cloak of boldness had dropped from
him. and a crown of honor, to which
he was endeavOring to grow accustom-
ed, had been placed upon his head It
was evident that he needed the pro-
lection of the cloak to enable him to
appear ct ease beneath the strange and
oppressive weight of the crown. AS
came into the room, he was gazing at
full length picture of me, which stood
IN & rocOco frame on a center table
EIe raised his eyes from it and glanced
at me as approached, as if compar-
ing my actual appearance with its
counterfeit presentment; and then they
fell, as if abashed, to the floor, and he
failed to look at me while he spoke.
Madame" he said, in a low hest
tating tone, which did not resemble
his ordinary aggressive and self-in-
portant accents, what did that mean
which you said last night
1T meant just what it conveyed" I
replied, shortly, for I liked him no bet
ter under this new phase than under
the old
That I am your father?" he asked
increduIously, still with down-bent
glance, and with hands that nervously
fingered his hat"
Exactly that"
He waited a moment. Then he fall
tered:
'You are the daughter of Lena
Mavis?"
YES" I replied, land the widow Of
her cousin James,"
He gave a little gasp of shocked dis
belief at that, and raised his eyes to
me.
"Of James Mavis-you the widow Of
James Mavis" he calculated, as if be-
wildered.
I bowed. Yes. He was the father
OF that child Of whose existence you
thought me ashamed"
The man seemed to cover beneath
that, as if regretful and ashamed of his
conduct towards me.
L have wronged you-much. Whv
dld you own me before all those people
last night?"
Notwithstanding all his humility
there was ring of exultation in his
voice as he asked me this last question
that at once furnished me with the kew
to the pitiful nature 1 was dealinn
with. It was not remorse, nor repent-
ance, nor latent affection that had
wrought this swift alteration in the
man, but q suddenly pI opitiated vanitv
which beheld me as it, chief ministranf
1 suspected 1t then, as I later proved
It to be, the very pivot upon which
my fathers whole nature swung, the
keystone of the arch of his character,
this contemplate and miserable van
ity.
because 1t was my duty" I answer
ed, with fine disdain Of any sentiment
in the matter.
He seemed to reflect a moment after
I said this.
WAS that the reason you gave me
money at different time?" he asked
presently.
1T was. did MOI care to feel that
my own father was In absolute poverty
while I was in afTluence. But I had
no wish to acknowledge you, all the
same"
He nodded, quite as IL In sympathy
with my reluctance
81 don't blame YOU" he said. mo
one would have exp .cted a great lady
like you to call another woman's serv-
ant her father. You must be very rich?"
The last phrase was alf-exlamation,
haif-Guestion, and I scented extortion
IN It. 1t was soon proved, however, that
this time my intuition was at fault. For
when L began: "As to money" he in