The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1899-11-26

CHAPTER T.
HOW POMPO& BECAME AN ORACLE.
Perhaps il Is because the tragedy 81
Fortherineay IS sIu fresh In my mind
that my eyes Inser sadly on the faded
roses / have token from my cabinet aud
p.aced with tender hands before me
IT is a week ago since Blaucheforet, on
bis way back from Paris. drew rein at
Besme to give me the news q that deed
Of infamy ana LEFT me stunned and be-
wldered. as he eaIlopped OF. red-spurr1d.
10 bear the ti5ings to Ma,ezleux.
There are those VINO say she deserved
her death; there are stories. ! know
about her. but they lie in their thaoats
who repeat them. ard I blush WIKI shame
for my country that no sword was drawn
to save her who was once Queen Of
France.
As 7 stare AZ the flowers before me
their delicate fragrance returns 20 them;
they seem TO bloom again in their rich.
crimson splendor. and the memory Of that
night ia June, when / received them FROM
the hands Of Mary Of Scotland, comes
back TO me. so that my heart is full and
my eyes grow dim.
She was of those women born to be
queens over men; Of those women Wno
COME once in a thousand years, who are
in themselves the embodied spirits Of TO
nance. ard for whose smile men womb
throw aside life. riches, empire, even
honor as lightly as a. WORKOUT glove.
IL was my fate To come within the range
OF her power, and i did as the rest.
the Door gentleman of Quercy-the King 3
iester-dared TO love her
And vet was not mad; the feeling In my
heart was as If l had met in flesh ana
blood that vision OF the perfect woman
which lies in all mems souls There was
an immeasura BILE distance between Us.
1 knew all that. ] nursed no Idle hopes.
I looked upon her as a shepherd on the
mountains might gaze upon the morning
star-as some wandering angel OF hgnt
that had come, TO pass away. yet never 10
be forgotten.
And 30, because Jester must have iome
thing Of the poet in his spirit, / was ac-
customed to day--iream little, and used
10 slip out from The Louvre into that viii
derness of a garden that stretched as Tar
as the waits Of Paris, between the Tour lie
Bots and the Porte ST. Hon1re. and lose
myself there in enchanted dreams. The
place exists no longer, 1 hear IL is All
changed now, since the Medi-ss began TIE
new palace Of the Tuilsries, near the tile
fields. and the sweet disorder Of my gar
den has given place 10 sedaie parterres,
trimly-cut hedges, end walks that look ike
diagrams in the book Of Euclid that Lorg-
nae used 10 pore over at college and
hated with a bitter hatred
But az the time ] speak Of when the
sun was bright and he flowers Were Qua,
except my own home IN the far-OI Quer-
cy there was no spot more lovely 10 my
mind than those neglected walks where
the bind-weed and dOg-rose starred the
piou made a gay border to the green rides,
and from amidst its spotted leaves the
cuckoo-pint III ed is purple wand, drip
ping with dew. Here, on A grassy bank,
near an osd oak. / would he for hours, lis
teHing o wind in the trees, listening 70 the
hum % The city mat was 50 near and yet
20 far and building my castles In cord
land whilst ponpon, my ape. gambOlle1
in the branches above me. And here one
morning n Jure I took my luie and, with
Tomr or ho1BIlg grave.y At my heels,
sought my refrsat. 10 eat my lOLus and be
happy iu my or ans. / rad almost come o
Tie Cd rose ri s8nce. beyond ~ hich lay
my o X, when ] met LOrgnac face 10 face,
as he siepp. d through gap in the hedge,
anG sLCcd iu The middle Of the path his
drawn sword was ia his hand. ard Tor
once the color was out Of bis cheek, and
MS lips set and hard, making MIN .ook,
though he vas but fve-and-twe a man
touching on middle age.
You cannot pass he said, stifly, with
ont any other greeting; and whilst ]
stopped for a moment ia amaze. Pompon,
who knew him well. ran up TO him and
b gan ctutching at his cloak for a caress.
but he shock the ape from him with a
curse, saying again;
you cannot pass, de Besme Go backr'
He called me by my own name. which
he knew well, for we We're next-door
neighbors in the Querey, and sworn
friends at college, and ever after Only
last night he had hidden me a laughing
adeu, calling me le Brusquet, the nick
name by which l was known to my init
mates. and indeed TO all the court and
now mere he was, cold and stiff as Span
lard, ordering me off the path as if 1 were
a street beggar.
But took him quietly. Whistling Pom
pom back 10 me, I said:
Come. Lorgnacl 1 am only going 10
my oak
"You cannot pass" he interrupted.
speaking like machine.
'Tu-dteu!" l burst out my temper ris-
ing, IF 1t is the Kings order, I 80 back;
but If 1t is some grasshopper you have
in your head, monsieur / clapped my
hand to my side, forgetting that I wore
but a gilded-wooden sword, and as my
singers touched the hilt | stopped, discon-
certed and began to laugh. And while l
laughed Lorgnac caught the humor of 1t,
ana began smiling, too, as he stepped for
ward, and put his hand no my shoulder.
mo. old friend There must be no quar-
rel between US, But pray you, go back"
as the road then blocked?"
Yes" he said in a hesitating voice,
and I was about to shrug my shoulders
and turn away, when there was a rust
ling in the hedge, ard man leaped light.
ly through, saying IN an alarmed voice:
'Lorgnac, we are watehed-spied upon~
And then he stopped and stared at me.
and ], too. started back in blank aston
ishment, for il was the Prince Of Condo.
the second prince of the blood whom we
all thought at the siege of Marienbourg
Els face was haggard and wan and he
was gray with dust, as one who had rid
den fast and far. lie struck nervously
at his boot with HIS riding whip; and as
we looked at each other, I noticed that
IN his clenehed hand lay woman's glove,
small and while.
/ took his words to apply TO me, and,
recovering myself, FASTENED to explain