The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1899-04-02

to a little stationer's shop, where the French
and German periodicals In various stages or
OUT f-datedness We're displayed in the win
dow. He went in and found Madame Obert
the proprietress behind the counter.
well, Madame Obert, what is it?' said
Father Andre. Your little one tells me
you wish 10 me-"
Yes, Father" replied the good dame. 1T
is the strangest thing that has happened,
and I want 10 tell you about it and ask your
advice before let anybody else know. Ce-
cilev'
YES mother" said the little one.
Stay in the shop; you can call me If
am wanted"
Madame Obert opened the door of the little
! back parlor and invited the priest 10
come in.
"You see that old desk" she said. point
ing TO an old-fashioned and dilapidated dav-
export that stood in a corner.
Yes. have seen it many times when
have been here. What is there remarkable
about ii to-day?'
"Ah, it isn't what it looks like, it is what
1 have found inside il. Did L never tell you
how my father bought it,"
No
ut was after a terrible fire, many, many
years ago when French laundry near him
was burned down.
"You don't mean Madame LIE Beau's!" ex-
claimed the priest, becoming interested.
Yes, l think that was the name my
father told me. Well, he bought it when the
few things that were rescued were sold. He
brought it home, and il stood in his room
till he died and left everything TO me- and
1 and my husband brought it here"
But what have you found in it?" ex-
claimed the priest, eagerly.
~ am coming to that. 1t is odd, because
my father thought there nothing in it
at ALL But this morning L went to look for
bill sure L had paid. and for which
the collector had called again. l looked
everywhere. and turned every drawer out:
and there, fallen behind the back of one,
found old letter faded and yellow. and
OF course l read it. When l had read it
said: This is something very strange; 1
will ask Father Andre about 1t.
"And the letter.
lis here" said Madame ebert, opening
her desk and taking from it the faded sheet
of paper.
The priest took it. put on his glasses and
scanned it eagerly. 1t was written in
trembling female hand, and the first words
gave him quite little shock, for they car
ried him back to the night of that terrible
tragedy when every living soul save little
Lillian persisted in the flames.
Dear Madame lie Beau-I shall bring my
little girl tonight late-very late-after
every one of your people have gone to bed,
for | wish no one to see me come, in case
he should make inquiries afterwards ana
learn that l have been TO you. L shall not
have much time to talk 10 you. for must
go away again at once. He will be back at
/ o'clock in the morning, and II he hnds
am out he will suspect. He is terrible, and
dread that he may murder me and the child.
L am determined that he shall never know
where it is, for ii shall never be associated
with his terrible crimes. Take care of my
little Lily for your dead brothers sake.
About midnight expect me. Watch at the
door. L may not have moment.
Lillian PRIVAS"
Father Andres pale face went deadly
white as he grasped the meaning of the let
ter found after so many years. lie made
great effort TO master his emotions.
you must let me keep this for "a while"
he said Il will make inquiries.
Keep it as long you like, Father" re-
piled the woman 1T doesn't belong to
me-"
Father Andre bowed his head, and bidding
dimIy lighted little shop into the street like
a man in dream. He bent his steps
mechanically towards home, but his brain
was in a whirl and deadly fear was in his
heart He had cew at last To the parent
age of Lillian his niece" The name of
"Privas"-the mention of terrible crimes
brought back to him the remembrance of a
great criminal-a foreign Anarchist, who
shortly after the tragedy of the French
laundry had been arrested in Paris, and
guillotined for dynamite outrage in which
three people were killed.
The deadly fear that at his heart
was that this wretch was Lilians father,
and if that were
What could he do? What could he say?
AT ali hazards it was his duty TO inform
CASTOR Darville Immediately. Between them
they must invent an excuse for postponinS
the marriage until all doubts as to Lilians
rarentage were set at rest. The young bar
rister could not in justice TO his family
marry the daughter of an anarchist who
had been guillotined for an atroccus crime.
He determined to go TO the young barris-
ter's chambers at once. CASTOR was in and
was greatly astonished to receive a visit
from Father Andre. There was something
IA the priests face that made the young
man apprehenSive or bad news. The priest
told his story gently, and softened the blow
as much as he could. After all il was only
conjecture; there was no certainty that
I.ilian's mother was the wife of the Privas
who had been guilotined, only the date of
the letter and the words terrible crimes
justified the worst suspicious.
The young barrister listened and the color
faded from his cheeks. The idea of his
sweet tender-hearted Lillian being the child
of a wretch with whose infamies all Europe
had rung was too shocking TO be enter
tanned, and yet the letter which the priest
gave him almost proved the correctness of
the horrible surmise.
He stood buried in deep thought for few
minutes, then he turned to the priest and
said, Father Andre, you must say nothing
of this to Lilian-nor to my father, nor to
any one. 1t must be our secret, and ours
alone"
But in the meantime the wedding must |
at least be postponed said Father Andre. |
1--WE must find out the truth"
There will be time enough for tnat at |
the last moment. L have week; in a week /
much may be done. 1 shall start for Paris |
to-night-go straight to Monsieur Goron the /
chife of the Paris detective force, and find |
out all about the man Privas You will tell |