Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1898-11-17
THE PRICE OF GOLD.


OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
When Lucien Hem saw his last hun
dred frame note gripped by The bank
keepers rake, and rose from the rou
lette table, where he had lost the las
fragments of his little fortune, he fel
giddy, and thought he was going t
fall.
With dizzy head and lettering legs
he threw himself down upon The
broad leathern settee surrounding the
play table.
For some minutes he gazed yacantly
Oh The clandestine gambling house IN
which he had squandered the bes,
years of his youth, recognized the raw.
aged faces of the gamblers, crudely
lighted by the three large shaded
lamps; listened to the light jingle OF
gold on the cioth-covered table; felt
that he was ruined, lost; recollected
that he had at home the pair of regu-
latlon pistols which his father, Gen
hem, then Il simple captain, had used
so well in the attack of Zaatcha;
then, overcome by fatigue, he sank
into profound sleep.
When he arose with parched
mouth, he saw by the clock that he
had slept for barely half an hour, and
felt an imperious need for breathing
the night air. The clock hands mark
ed a quarter before midnight.
At that moment old Dronski-a pill
lar of the gambling house. the classic
Pole, wearing the threadbare hooded
wooden cloak, ornamented all over
with grease stains-approached Lu-
sien, and muttered a few words in his
grizzled beard.
Lend me five-franc piece, mon
sieur. It's now two days since I've
stirred out of the club, and for two
days the seventeen has never turned
up. Laugh at me if you like, but III
suffer my hand to be cut off if that
number does not come upon the
stroke of midnight"
Luclen Hem shrugged his shoulders.
He had not even enough in his pock-
cts to meet this tax. which the fire.
qnenters of the place called "the
Poles hundred sous" He passed into
the ante-chamber, took his hat and
fur coat, and descended the stairs
with feversh rapidly.
Since o'clock, when IMcien had
shut himself up in the gambling
house, snow had fallen heavily. and
the street-a street in the center Of
Paris, very narrow, and built with
high houses on either side-was com.
pletely white.
In the calm sky, blue-back, the cold
stars glittered.
The ruined gambler shuddered I'M
der his furs, and walked away, his
mind still teeming with thoughts Of
despair, and more than ever turning
to the remembrance of the case OF
pistols which awaited him in one OF
the drawers: but after moving few
steps, he stopped suddenly before a
heart-wringlng sight.
On a stone bench, placed according
to old custom near the door of a man
sion, little girl of six or seven years
of age, dressed in a ragged black
frock, was sitting in he snow. She
was sleeping in spite of the cruel cold,
in an attitude of frightful fatigue
and exhaustion; her poor little head
and tiny shoulder pressed as if they
had sunk into an angle of the wall
and reposlng on the icy stone. One
of her wooden shoes had fallen from
her foot, before her.
With a mechanical gesture Lucien
put his hand to his waistcoat pocket,
but moment afterward he recollect-
ed that he had not been able to find
even forgotten piece of 20 sous, and
had been obliged to leave the club
giving the customary "tip' to
the club attendant; yet, moved by an
instructive feeling of pity, he APP
preached the little girl and might
perhaps, have taken her in his arms,
and given her nights lodging
when in the wooden shoe which had
Slipped from her foot he saw some
thing glitter.
He stopped. 1t was a gold coin.
Some charitable person, doubtless
some lady, had passed by, had seen
on this night the little wooden shoe
lying in front of the sleeping child
and, recalling the touching legend,
had placed there, with secret hand
a magnificent offering, so that this
poor abandoned one might believe in
presents made for the infant Saviour,
and preserve. in spite of her misfor.
tune, some confidence and some hope
in the goodness of Providence.
A gold piece! 1t was several DAYS
Of rest and riches for the beggar, and
Lucien was on the point of waking
her to tell her this, when he heard
near his ear as in halucination. a
voice-the voice of the Pole, with its
coarse, drawing accent almost wills.
pering:
"Its now two days since ! stirred
out of the club, and for two DAYS III,
IT has never turned up. I'll suffer
my hand to be cut off II that number
does not turn up on the stroke of mid
night"
Then this young man OF three-and.
twenty, descended from race Of
honest men, who bore a proud mill.