The copper country evening news. [volume] (Calumet, Mich.) 18??-1907, 1898-03-03

into nacre ana haStened 10 his apart
ments. The woman who acted as house.
keeper for him, Nine. Moniche, the
FORTRESS, raising her arms as she opened
the door for me, said:
"'Ah, monsieur, but monsieur has
waited for you. He has repeated your
name all night. He nearly died, but he
is better now
"Rovere, sitting the night before by
his fire, had been stricken by lateral
paralysis, and as soon as he could hold
a pen, in spite of the orders of the ply
stefan who had been quickly called, had
written and sent the message to me
some hours before.
"As soon as he saw me he-the strong
man, the mad misanthrope, silent and
somber-held me in his arms and burst
into tears. His embrace was that of a
man who concentrates in one being all
that remains of hope
'Thou-thou art here, " he said in
low tone. If thou knewestp
Il was moved to the depths of my
heart. That manly face, usually so en-
ergetic, wore an expression of terror
which was in some way almost childish
timorous fright. The tears rose in his
eyes.
"'Oh, how have waited for thee,
how l have longed for theep
He repeated this phrase with anx-
ious obstinacy. Then he seemed to be
suffocating Emotion The sight of me
recalled to him the long agony of that
night when he thought that he was
about to die without parting with me
for the last time.
For what have to tell thee
"He shook his head.
1t is the secret of my life.
"He was lying on sort of sick chair
or lounge in the library where he pass.
ed his last days with his books He
made me sit down beside him. He took
my hand and said:
I" L am going to die. believed that
the end had come last night. | called
thee. Oh, well, if l had died there is
one being in the world who would not
have had the fortune which, have
"He lowered his voice as if he thought
we were spied upon, as if some one
could hear.
Il have daughter. Yes, even from
thee l have hidden this secret, which
fortunes me. A daughter who loves me
and who has not the right to confess
this tenderness no more than have the
right TO give her my name. All, our
youth, sad youth l might have had
home today, Preside of my own,
dear one near me, and instead of that
an affection of which l am ashamed
and which l have hidden even from
thee, Jacques-from thee, dost thou
comprehend
Il remember each of Roveres words
as if L was hearing them now. This
conversation with my poor friend is
among the most poignant yet most pre-
cious of my remembrances. With much
emotion, which distressed me, the poor
man revealed TO me the secret which he
had believed it his duty to hide from
me so many years, and l vowed to him
i swore to him on my honor, and that
is why hesitated to speak or rather re-
fused to speak, not wishing to compro-
mise any one, neither the dead nor liv-
ing-I swore to I'm, NJ. lie JUICE to re-
peat nothing of what he told me to any
one, TO any one but to her.
Herr Intercepted M. Ginory.
"His daughter, Dantin replied.
The examining magistrate recalled
shat visitor i'll black who had been seen
occasionally at Rovere's apartments
and the little romance of which Paul
Rodier had written in his paper-the
romance of the woman in black.
And this daughter?'.
"She bears, said Dantin, with dis
couraged gesture, 1.-THE name of the ia
Their which the law gives her, and this
name is great name, an illustrious
name, that of a retired general officer
living in one of the provinces, widow
er, and who adores the girl who is an
other mans child. The mother is dead.
The father has never known. When dy-
ing, the mother revealed the secret to
her daughter. She came, by command
of the dead, to see Revere, but as sis
ter of charity, faithful to the name
which she bears. She does not wish to
marry. She will never leave the Grip
pied old soldier who calls her his
daughter and who adores her.
ooh" said M. Ginory, remaining
mute moment before this very simple
drama, and in which, in that moment of
reflection he comprehended, he an
alyzed, nearly all of the hidden griefs,
the secret tears, the stifled sobs, the
stolen kisses "And that is why you
kept silent?' he asked.
YES, monsieur. Oh, but could not
endure the torture any longer, and not
seeing the expected release any nearer
would have spoken-I would have spo-
ken to escape that cell, that sense of suffo-
cation, endured there. 1t seemed to me,
however, that owed 1t to my dead
friend not to reveal his secret to any
one, not even to you. shall never for
get Rovere's joy when, relieved of the
burden by the confidence which he had
reposed In me, he said to me that, now
that she who was his daughter and was
poor, living at Blois only on the pension
of retired officer To whom she had an