The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1899-03-24
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! THE RIGHTFUL, HEIR +
~. r. CALDoF. u


-
Now you are unjust as we'll as un-
kind. You know nothing is further
from my thoughts than the wish to be
rid of you. 1t is only that I cannot
bear to think Of you immured here in
the dreary loneliness of this chamber,
that makes me press upon you other
acquaintances. Besides, am vexed
that others should so misunderstood
you, the Count"
What of him?" demanded Bernard
with a flashing eye.
NAY, do not look so angry. He does
not understand it-and jests little
about the misanthropical hermit who
saved my life. He will not comprehend
my explanations"
81 beg you will not make any ex-
plantations to Count German on my be-
half" began Bernard haughtily; but
her beseeching glance arrested him.
"Ah," said she, reproachfully, why
will you not allow others to know you
as good and noble as you appear to
me? What is this mystery that sur
rounds you?"
The black cloud came sweeping over
his face, the gloomy fire lent its CLEAN
| to his eye, and with bitter, bitter
sigh, he said:
cit is my fate. I cannot help it. 1
wonder that you do not also shrink
from me. You who know more OF the
mystery than any other. Do not let
pity keep you here, Lady Violante."
.s- To-
would there was less concealment-
and yet 1 must own it is not pity, not
even gratitude, that draws me toward
you"
"What them" demanded he eagerly.
"Sincere, earnest friendship" replied
she in clear, steady tones-the sincere
eyes never blenching from his impas-
stoned gaze. Il like you, see so much
that is good and noble beneath this
cold mask you strive to wear. There
is genuine affinity between our minds
and it grieves me that others can
not share in my appreciation of your
worth"
He checked bitter smile, to say
mournfully:
not any worth of mine; and you know
nothing of me-not even my name-if
be noble or peasant, rich or poor, in
nocent or guilty"
May" said she, catching only at one
idea, mo one could think of you as a
peasant-your very carriage assures
one of noble blood!'
Again, scornful, cynical smile was
depressed as he turned his face from
observation-and then he said, with a
gravity that was almost solemn:
Lady Violante, I am a mysterious
being-isolation and danger and mys-
terry are my portion; but again 1 as
sure you it is my misfortune, not my
deserving. Very sweet and precious to
me is the sympathy you have given
these days, filled with pain though
they have been, are the happiest of my
sorrowful life. That was the humble
instrument of saving you from a
frightful death. will be cause of
thanksgiving and rejoicing to my dying
day-and yet I am so proud that any
attentions shown to me by you out of
gratitude to that, become hateful and
repulsive. O, Lady Violante, 1, so un-
loved and alien to all the rest of the
world, cannot afford to lose the sweet
drop in my bitter cup. Think not of
what is due your preserver, but care
for me for my sake.''
The fair girl looked at him wistfully.
The rapidly blushing and paling cheek
betrayed the agitation he strove to con-
ceal. The starting tear that only for
moment dimmed the eagle eye, moved
her deeply.
Strange mortal!' said she, holding
out her hand with the tenderness of a
woman, and yet the dignity of queen.
How many times already have you ex-
torted from me that aside from all l
owe you I cannot help admiring and
loving you.'
He bent over her little hand. and
with the one respectful kiss fell a burn
ing tear.
God bless you! come what will here
after, shall be able to say, the cup of
joy has once been lifted to my lips.
and the memory Of this moment shall
have power to Danish my gloom"
Come" said Violante, taking up
book from the table, you shall finish
the poem We began yesterday. Never
heard 1 reader before, who could so
magnetically charm the ear. All
through my ride with the Count, was
longing to return and finish the book
with you. Let us not waste the time
for when my father is free from the
old Counts visit in the library, he will
make his usual call here, and interrupt
u.s."
M. Bernard took the book, but paused
to say:
'The old Count Germain! 1 have
heard of him; what sort of a character
do you give him?"
Indeed I can hardly tell. He is GER
tainly variable. At one time, genial,
courteous and charming-and then
again, SO morose, reserved and suspic-
ious-he quite frightens me from him.