The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1899-06-08

GfN1SNR mellow tone, ech-
GN& ~ oed on the still
* evening air four
blasts upon a whis-
tie. Bernard sprang to his feet with a
rapidly changing face. Madame Valerie
also turned pale.
1T is your ivory whistle, certainly"
SAID she, have you lost it? are we
d~iscovered?"
bernard was lost in painful agita-
ton. Il must CO." said he; -"at all
events | must see who has approached
the cliff before we open the secret
uoor The whistle is, or was, in Lady
vloiante's possession. 1t cannot be
there is danger before her SO speedily
as this. Get me the dark lantern,
mother, and I will go out by the tun-
mel that leads to the cove, and If it
is she | will speak with her outside"
prudent, o, Bernard, be eau
tious! l was never afraid of your dis
erection before; but, alas! love has be-
trayed SO many a brave man, and per-
lied SO many otherwise successful
causes, l tremble now for ours"
Again the whistle sounded. "Quick,
quick, mother, this is no time for par
leying. / will take my pistols to quiet
your apprehensions."
Frightened, trembling, with nerves
excited to the utmost, Lady Violante
crouched on the ground beneath the
Topped withered larch; her cold hands
cienching the ivory tube, and her eyes
wandering a~nxiously around the stir
less shrubbery. Growing hopeless, as
she received no answer, she was turn
Ing de1ectedly away, when her quick
ear caught the sound of a paddle stroke
beneath, and In a moment more she
saw a 1.-THE, active figure cautiously
ascending the cliff. The slender, grace
full outline against the clear space Of
sky behind treasured her fears, and
springing forward, wholly unconscious
of the rich tone of joy that lied her
voice, she exclaimed:
20, Bernard, is 1t you? Have you
answered my call at last?"
"Then 1t Is you, Lady Violante, who
gave the signal. l could scarcely be-
lieve it possible; what can have u
ed in the brief time since 1 saw you?"
said Bernard, not daring to show the
delight he felt at seeing her again.
Nothing so desperately alarming as
you may infer. 1 was to use the magic
whistle for my own safety, but l VEN
! tured to try 1t to warn you on your
, own account
ITO warn me! of what? Of whom?"
"Of Count Emile; my father told
me tonight he was On your track, and
20, added to my W misery, the fears
/, for you quite unnerved me. If l had
: gone home without seeing you, 1 think
!, I should have been crazed before morn
ing. Let me tell you all that has hap.
! pened since you left us hastily and
unkindly, without a parting word"
"You found my note in the hook
) did you not? Lady Violante, l have as
| high a sense of honor as tho noblest
| In the land. know m own weakness
| Loving you SO p~assionately, 1 dared
not linger to feed my hopeless affec.
\ ton upon your gentle words and ten.
der deeds. Think you if l could takt
y you openly to a position your worth
6 and rank demands, l would let forty
6 fathers or a hundred lovers like Coun'
v German take you from me, so lonl
n as your own pure heart had responded
y to mine? but as it is, wretched, un
fortunate, and lowly as l am, l mus
> bind down my frantic agony, and leav,
= you to a happier fate than it is in m.
q power to offer. My only hope lies il
= your possible misfortunes. If the tim
ever comes you arc in need of wha
protection l can give, o, my peerless
!. beautiful Violante, come instantly t
= the arms that will so j~oyfully unclos
to your
fis head dropped despondently t
his breast and folding his arms gloom
- lily he waited for her to speak.
:. Her breast heaved convulsively, an
the warm tears poured down he
IS cheeks. How she longed, that impuI
II siYe, loving girl, to cast herself at hi
ID feet and cry, ~impetuously:
IN "Take me now, o, Bernard, take m
t. now! no matter how poor, how lowl!
lie how dangerous your life, to share
will be the happiest fate the world ca
IS. offer mel
he Instead, with a sort of icy calmnes
le h said, "Shall l tell you now all thu
=. has occurred?"
Bernard heard the whole narratil
without a word of comment. Whe
Nv she had finished. he said coolly:
i'd 81 do not fancy Count Emile ht
ch made much progress in his search; /
es would be likely to e~xaggerate. How
ut ever, do not give yourself any inca
or mess. am going away in a few da!
i'd, to be absent some little time, and b
fore | return he will have r%elinquishC
a search so hopeless as this will prov
n What you tell me about your father
u angry persistence alarms me muo
H. more. l never thought lie would foI
'e- you to a union you abhorred. But yr
yourself must be the judge, deare
}" Lady Violante; if you find their pers
cution i~ntolerable, If your cool deli
Grafton sanctions such a course, | ca
IL give you safe and honorable refuj
II from them, my own and my mother
i"i tenderest care, to atone for the loss
on worldly gayeties and riches. 1t is
- question / shall never press, haviI
once told you wherefore l refrain. B