The Monitor-register., 1897-11-12
tall and 1.-the, his closely suit hair curling
about his faoe, his black eyes sparkling,
his cheeks glowing. his full lips parted,
his hands pressed upon his breast.
''Come here" she said.

lie took q step toward her.
"What is your name ?" she asked.
He started and put his fingers to his
lips.
She laughed, put her hand to her lips,
and threw him a kiss.
what Is your name ?" she repeated.
"Memento mori." he gasped.
"How droll !" she said. "That sounds
like Latin, and l do not know Latin. l
only know my own language, and the
French which l am using. 1t is not good
French. My accent is very bad. You
remind me of a picture which | saw In
Florence. 1t was of a man into whom
they had shot Irows l think they
called him Saint Sebastian. l see that
you wear sandals. That Is good, it gives
one q carriage. The Arabs wear sandals
and they walk properly. l also wear no
HEELS" and she put out her little feet.
'In the evening, If l YEA slippers, then
heels-in the daytime, no. That Is so
that l may walk we'll. l sent the old
man for the vine SO that l might speak
TO you. He looks rather cross, but then
he is old. 1t is very sad to be old. l am
twenty. l have nearly ten years yet.
Then l shall marry. 1t seems that you
are not talking much, but you are blush
ing very nicely. l used to blush when
men spoke to me. 1t is a very pretty
accomplishment, but l have lost it. Still,
if you will come to see me at the Hotel
Saint George, l will try my best to re-
call it. VIII you come If you intend
to say something nice to me, or to kiss
my hand, you must do it very soon, before
the old man returns with the wine"
MADAME" said the COURIER" pray be
careful. The Abbot is very strict.
This Abbot" she said, with'a laugh,
"if one could only know, is probably
nothing but a man."
Then she turned to Brother Angelo
again, and whispered, "What is your
name ?"
The blood left his face, aud he trem
bled like a leaf. Then he said, ."My
father was Count Apremont, aid my
mother was Miriam, the dancing girl Of
Biskra." And he burst into tears.
There was a crash. Brother Ambrose
stood in the door. and he had dropped the
bottle of white wine
The Englishman and the commercial
traveller walked down the road together.
Monster" said the latter, she is almost
better in real life than on the stage"
Very CLEVER" said the Englishman.
'sWbo is she ?"
! The commercial traveller stopped
short and looked hard at his companion.
Finally he said:
is It possible that monsieur does not
know? She Is Dolores, the Spanish
dancer. They pay her four thousand
francs a night at the Folies Bsrgeres."
That evening, when Brother Ambrose
had made his report, the Abbot sat silent
for some moments, and then said.
"You are quite sure that he spoke?"
"Quite sure, father"
"And to a woman, father" and
Brother Ambrose crossed himself.
WAS she an attractive person ?"
"She was as handsome as the DEVIL"
The Abbott looked up quickly, but
Brother Ambrose was evidently sincere
in his comparison.
"Yes, he continued, ''in all the thirty
years that | have been guest master |
have never seen n like her. When she
walked up the room she seemed to float
along; there was no movement of her
skirts. There was a faint odor of violets
about her that filled the air. She had q
fashion of half closing her eyes and look
ing at you through the lashes. There
was that picture of the repentsnt Mag
dalene which Brother Thomas painted
last year, and which you bade him burn,
because, although it was the MagdaIene,
it was not repentant. Well, this woman
had that same look. Her throat"
THAT will do" said the Abbot, Il
understand"
The two old men looked at each other
silently. Then Brother Ambrose, shift
ing his feet and nervously lingering the
beads of his rosary, said,
"Father, when the spring comes back
when the whole earth begins to breathe
again. when the starlings build their
nest in the great cross on the chapel
roof, and the scent of the lilacs fills the
air, do you never find 'memento MORT
hard words to say ?"
The abbot went to the window, looked
out, came back, and said slowly.
Brother Ambrose, Oh such a night as
this, after the manner of men, l fight
with beasts at Ephesus."
"Thank God," said Brother Ambrose,
solemnly THAT 1 an not the only one
that is tempted. And now, father," he
added briskly, "what is to be done with
Brother Angelo
"You may put him in the chapel cell
for tonight" replied the Abbot, land in
the morning l will fix his penance. You
may leave him his straw, and bring me
the key of the CELL"
sis that all ?" asked Brother Ambrose.
YES" replied the Abbot.
Brother Ambrose started for the door.
"Memento mort, father" he said.
The Abbot smiled.
81 will grant you an Indulgence to
night, old friend. Good might"
Brother Ambrose's lips quivered.
"Good night" he said. Aud then he
added, ''Those words sound very sweet
after thirty years"
In ten minutes he brought the key of
the chapel cell, and the Abbot fastened it
to his girdle.
Brother Ambrose fingered a moment
and then said:
"If it is permitted. father, l should like
to say good night once more"
"Good night" said the Abbot, and
then Brother Ambrose went away.
Left alone, he Abbot sat unoonsciously
playing with the keys at bis waist; then
Using, he extinguished the single candle
upon his desk, and opening his door.
stepped out upon the grass walk.
The garden was bathed in moonlight
On the long lines of almond trees the
white blossoms shone like silver stars,
High on the chapel roof the great iror
cross was silhoutted against the sky, anG
the Abbot could see at the intersection OF