The morning times., 1897-01-03
COLETTE.
(Copyright, 1860

Copyright, 1860
One summers evening, aftef EPper,
Monsieur La Rose, the village notary. came
out upon the veranda Of the Hotel Castor,
hi shaft his hand, hissmouthly shayen face
ruddy and pleasant to lCok upon. BrabOn,
the drummer, who came up from Montreal
To Saint L yx occasionally on business, sat
smoking quietly in u chair that was tilted
against the wall.
Good evening" said NJ. La Rose.
Good evening, Monsieur le Notaire,'' an
swered Brabon, indolently.
Then there followed little spell OF
silence that was intensified by the cIatter
OF distant cow bells
Presently there appeared in the street
immediately before the hotel, a sort OF
living fantasy "a singular, dark-faced old
man, who strobe slowly past clad in loose
robe Of MANY bright coiors. His eyes had
the unnlista kable and restless look OF the
daft. On his head was crown OF buttons;
brass, silver, bone, pearl, presumably sewn
together ON card board, and making head
gear of remarkable briliiancy. Behind him
walked Il gray-haired, gray-eyed woman
in ordinary garb. Her lCok was clear and
steady; her demeanor III every way sane.
Yet though it WAS plain to see she was a
commuDplu Ce, rustic woman, there was
something august in her carriage, unaC-
scouDtably SO, perhaps, but as natural as
the studied pose OF the other was con-
strained and unnatural Her eyes were
set fairly upon the fantastical figure tc-
fore her with meek, patient look and an
evident interest beyond his ludicrouS pOmp
and preoccupatiUn-
1t was not surprising then to the notary
that this apparitlon, emphasized in the
magic atmosphere uf the summer twilight,
should have made Brahon to cry out with
astoniS hment:
''Allonsl What is this, mon sieur' /
have been in Saint Pyx many times be
fore: hut. / declare, this is new"
"A very pathetic affair it is, Brabon,"
said the notary, taking chair and looking
at his watch, to be assured lie had time to
tell the tale before going for his customary
evening chat with NJ. LIE Cure in the pres
hytery rose garden.
There is tale?'
well, as you will; q history, nothing
absorbing, but very human, very touch
ing Old Cesaire Moisson a man with
large family, thrifty, sober, God-feariDg
man once owned the mill by the River of
Angels-''
YES. see it from here: the squat white
building near the cluster of willows yonder."
Exactly. Well. He was man with
considerable family said, did not? And
when the epidemic of smallpox occurred in
the village-that was many years ago,
monsieur-poor MoiSSon's family was at
tackled and one after another bis wife and
children passed away, and lie himself in
deed, till there was only left his son Zephrin
whom you saw go by moment since"
1T left him so-the smallpoX?'
mo. He was not at home when the cpl
demic occurred: he was at college Old
Cesaire managed to put up enough silver 10
edu"ata tho lad-the brightest or his brood
Clrra al fri ihntn Tod. for ho
had hopes that Zephrin would become a
priest" =.
"Then, I presume. the shock of this great
calamity ityunbalancedthe youn gman's mind"
'That may be pretty true, monsieur,
though for long time after the affair he
was thought to be perfectly sound mentally.
Well, Zephrin was obliged to leave college
and take up the business of the mill--a
lonely task it must have been for one who
had but sttasted the sweets of kno wledge.
Then every dusty timber of the mill must
have seemed to him like a ghost of the happy
days when the place was trimming with
laughter and good cheer.
He was not liked by the villa gers on
account of his silent and arrogant man.
ner. He was unlke any miller who had
ever been known. When the inhabitants
came with their grist he received them
with the grand air OF a seigneur OF the old
Gays VINO, anna his cOuTJiy encourage,
received the fiefS of his dependents. It's
like that always grumbled the crones.
poor parents fill their rhildren'S minds with
foolish notions of greatnessi Poor old
Cesaire himself-reSt to his boneS-was
not like this peacock. Cesaire knew his
place bon vieux! A miller is a miller IL
his head be crammed with Latin or flour
dust!'
Everyone pitied ZephriD, of course, on
account OF his great bereavement and
the business of the mill suffered no seri-
Gus retrogression in consequence of his sim
gular demeanor. This exclusiveness,
this hauteur, however. was taken lightly
by the young folk OF the village and Of
ten OF a summers evening, like this one
for instance. they passed up the mill cry
ing up at Zephrin, who invariably pored
over mis- books in the little dormer- win
dow: Behold the king of the milll'
Then with gestures OF mock gravity,
Think OF his mighty empire OF rats!'"
''Quite So" said Bra bon. 'They taunted
him into insanity with these gibes. The
crown! the robes! L see now how they
camew
Indirectly taunts ma yhave have af
fected his mind, monsieur. His curious
attire and mien are obviously suggestive
of the fact; but it is my opinion his sad
arrangement is only partly due to them.
"Night after night the little dormer-
window Of the mill was light till dawn;
get the earliest conner did not fail to find
Zephrin up and about. No one could un-
derstand, for poti another light save the