Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1901-02-09

spares neither the great nor the hum
BILE, Is about to enter the chateau. The
Duke Of Reichstadt. whom at his birth
his father had named the king of
Rome. in a few short hours Will have
ceased to live His hopes blasted.
his illusions dispeIleds he is content TO
die At the bottom of the last page OF
his history will be written the words:
'He never reigned.7
Poor exiled princel There was but
,ne person to warm his cold heart, and
she very young. like himself. All others
were Indifferent TO him, and to his enc
mics his death would be welcome. In
fact, since that memorable night when
he returned to Schonbrunn after hav-
ing been betrayed he had fallen into
deep lassitude. He could not long sup
port a monotonous existence, and in
spite of the encouragement OF Silvere,
in spite Of the tender consolation OF
Colette. he counted the hours till his re-
lease A terrible malady rendered his
last days gloomy in the extreme. 1t
sat upon his pillow and deprived him
of sleep. 1t besieged him without ces-
sation. 1t furrowed his cheeks and
chiseled deep wrinkles on his brow, and,
raising the veil of the future, 1t showed
him death waiting for him.
To die so young, after having dream
ed of such glorious destiny. without
honor, the son of the Eagle, and Eaglet
without wings, far from his own eyre.
in the land of the stranger! His mai
ady grows upon him every day. He
becomes depressed with the immense
palace, brother to the marble tomb IN
which tomorrow he will be laid by
strangers. If the sun would only warm
him with its rays! If he could only go
to the park to talk with Siivere, to
laugh with Colette! But this was I'M
possible, since it was winter. The How
ers are gone, and in the sweet wood
where his love for Colette was born the
leaves are fallen, chased by the blasts.
Like the trees, his love is despoiled of
all that made it young. Under the
wind of evil years have passed-years
that counted double.
Yesterday. in order to distract his
thoughts, he forced himself to read.
He took up one by one those glorious
bulletins where his father on each
mage had Inscribed victory. lie
could not continue. What good now
that all was over? Then he grew
weaker. Thinking that the end had
come, the duke sent for the two faith
full friends who had shared his for
tune. In his last moments. far from
his dear country, he wished to think,
by holding their hands, that he was
dying on the soil of France.
But the storm increases. and his ag-
ony redoubles. He sleeps for mo
ment. then suddenly awakes. His eyes.
on which death seems to have cast
its dimness. become once more bright.
and his lips recover their lost color.
Colette and Silvere sustain him In
their arms The voice of the duke.
loud and penetrating, sounds forth in
storm:
what marvellous spectacles do my
eyes behold!
1.-THE fogs of winter have disappear
ed forever. and the balmy air of spring
floats over my face. caressing my hair.
81 have had sad dream. God, how
long it lasted!
81 dreamed that / was sad, alone
that ! was slave.
81 was chained to a rock beneath
which the waves beat.
1.-THE sea, receding. left at my feet
odious monsters. which seemed to mock
me, powerless and disarmed.
1.-THE dream is finished. A gigantic
eagle, with outstretched wings, de-
scended from the abyss Of heaven and.
breaking my bonds, chasing away my
enemies. set me at liberty.
"Since that blessed day how far l
have travelled,
ut seemed that gentle hand guided
my trembling steps.
"In moments of repose at night on
the field, the stars for lamps, how Of
ten have l felt caressing breath fan
ming my browi
But the end has come.
1.-THE old chateau has disappeared.
and the people of France have assem-
bled as though waiting for some one.
He whom they await is myself, the
son of the Eagle.
81 feel my wings. But who are these
two women who are walking at my
side? Silently they advance. remem-
Der one day a young girl whom | had
loved told me that in winter nights her
mother had read to her about the young
shepherdess who was to deliver France
from the yoke Of the stranger.
1T is she at my right, Joan, the shep-
herdess.
But the other-who is she? The
child of the people who stopped the
Huns and said to the conqueror Attila.
You shall go no farther She saved
Paris from being pillaged.
Sweet flowers of the countryl God
sent them and gave the hand to con-
duct me to him.
but a black cloud covers the sky.
l see a marsh, frozen in winter, and
from it serpents come toward me.