The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-05-27
PART L.

PART /.
The Able Morelet heard the ring of
hoofs upon the dusty road behind him,
and instantly stopped his long-suf-
ering white pony. He was a man of
alarms, was this good Able; and his
two servants, being dutiful servants,
were for the occasion men of alarms
Also All three had heard strange
stories of the perils of those travellers
iash enough to venture after sunset
on the great western highway to Paris;
all three had begun to regret the ne
Cessity which had carried them from
:he peaceful presbytery near Rambouil-
let to the woods upon the outskirts OF
the great city. Yet here they were at
8 o'clock of a summers evening still
three leagues from the capital, with
dark already threatening them, and
all the tales of bogies and Of robbers
ringing in their ears like a passing
bell in the ears of 'men about to be
hanged.
TT is my opinion" said the Able,
addressing Francois, his valet, ''it is
my opinion that we are followed by
the three young men who delayed us
at the Maison Rouge. can see a cloud
of dust upon the horizon, and ] count
three horses"
Francois, the valet and Jean, the
groom, FASTENED in their turn to check
the asses which they rode and to in
spect the winding highway which they
had pursued with so many misgivings
Being ready men, their tongues pres
emily wagged together, and they de-
olared themselves willing to submit to
untold tortures if they also did not
see a cloud of dust upon the horizon
and count three horses.
"Sapristi," cried Francois, the valet,
4 suspected those fellows from the be-
ginning. What says the proverb, my
naster-he who makes friends in an
mn has the devil for his comrade
6ody of st. John! I was for going on
rs your reverence is we'll aware"
Jean, the groom, who watched the
approaching horsemen with fearful
eyes, yet was unwilling to betray him,
self, remembered now that he had
been for going on, too
"Sacre beu, your reverence!" cried
he. IF you rogues are not footpads, put
me in the pillory. Did you mark how
they kept their faces masked even
when they sat at meat? May / be
fogged if 1 ever heard of an honest
man who was afraid to show his nose
to his neighbor We shall all be dead
men presently, rely upon it,"
The Able, who nursed secret sus-
picion that the groom spoke the truth,
told him, nevertheless, to hold his
tongue. He consoled himself with the
thought that his personal property was
not worth a louis to any rogue; he
knew that he had but ten crowns in his
pouch; and those he would surrender
readily. Indeed, he began to frame a
little speech in which he determined
both to rebuke the robbers and to con-
ciliate then. And this was still
troubling his mind when the three men
rode up at gallop and began to par
ley with him. They We're a strange
trio-all dressed elegantly, all mount
ed upon horses which might we'll have
come from the kings stables. The
Able, stealing glances at them when
he lifted his eyes a moment from his
breviary did not fail to observe the
shining embroidery upon their vests
nor the rich ruffies falling delicately
upon their wrists. nor the diamonds
glistening upon their fingers. These
things had been hidden from him in
the dark room of the tavern at Sevres
where the merry fellows had kept him
dallying long over a bowl of claret.
Now he saw plainly that his pursuers
were men of quality, and that two of
them were singularly finely built, while
the third possessed a figure so slim and
delicately proportioned that it might
well have been the figure of a young
girl. But all three We're masked as
they had been at the tavern-and this
fact alone kept the Abbe's suspicious
alive.
"Sirs," said he, closing his breviary
with, a sudden snap, Il observe that
you wish to speak with me-"
My Lord, the Bishop of Blois," be-
gan the tallest of the men, while he
doffed his plumed hat with a gesture of
profound respect ''it is evident to us
that you are stranger upon the road
to Paris"
The Abbe interrupted him with mo-
mentary display of irritation.
MY son." said he, "I pray you ad-
dress me by my own name and not by
that to which l have no title. 1t is
rue that the Bishop of Blois is unhap-
PLY dead, but under no circumstances
is 1t possible that so unworthy a sue
cessor should be found for the See as
the humble priest who has lately en-
Joyed your hospitality. I, gentlemen,
am the Abbe Morellet, cure OF the viii
lage of Yvette, man with whom the
princes of the Church may well con-
Germ themselves but little. 1 go to
Paris now to carry my ward Corinne-
you may know her as Mdle. de Montes-
son, gentlemen-to a convent of Bene-
dictine nuns at Charenton. And heaven
forbid that should aspire to such a
distinction as you have named"
He spoke with great dignity, being a
man accustomed to command in his
own little world. His manner was that
of one who has made an end Of the