The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1901-08-06
THE rapids will

whom shall send word?"
ITO no one. 1 desire an obliteratjon.
II was because L desired that; because
l had not done what / set out to do:
because l could not reflect upon 9TH
ers the honor they expected, that IL
laid aside the name 10 which 1 was
born. l have worked for the gods. and
they are old and heather. Their eyes,
blinded with much beauty, no longer
behold"
Il understand You should have
worked for God. Then He would have
seen-also men would have loved you"
at is true. am afraid have not
won the decoration you would bestow
upon me. L am not to be honored,
mademoiselle. Obliteration - oblivion
-"
Il shall always remember youw
There are those who wish they
might forget me-"
Il am not of those"
Il hardly understand. / have been
only burden to you"
NO, no. 1t is something 1 could
tell-Only to woman"
He took one of her hands gently in
his
But 1, mademoiselle. am no longer
man or woman. The soul has no sex.
and 1 am but spirit. This body-this
accident of flesh, this hindrance to the
best development, this aching matter
which clogs me-will be gone in n few
hours If you can tell me anything
that proves you TO be my friend, let me
hear it for the love of mercy! have
heard no very kind things from
woman's lips in all my life"
Marie Ragnier pushed her hair back
from her brow impatiently with both
her hands, and as she did so she
seemed to brush from that face the in
dications Of the passing years. The
face was essentially feminine. The
eyes were modest, but brilliant; the
throat round, the check smoothly
curved, the brow broad and low and
kindly, the hair waving and abundant.
II am not coward" she said. slow
ly. 81 am not afraid of joy. as many
women are; nor am l afraid of truth.
have lived lonely life, but that was
my destiny. am patient. but 1
know that action would have been
more gallant than this patience"
mo one is more gallant than you!
You are comrade in n mans most
desperate hour. Better than that you
cannot be-"
Il will tell you, then. 1 am a woman
without a romance"
She paused, and the two were silent,
n hO do a1o
shaking the window, and the fire was
ftful.
''In little while twill be dusk with
in the room. Then 1 shall tell you bet
ter whispered Marie Rdgnier.
The gusty twilight came. and the
room seemed filed with spectres.
Speak" said the dying man, "for I
have trouble to keep my mind on one
thing. This room seems to me to be
crowded with those who have jeered
at me, who have betrayed me-those
from whom l must conceal this igno-
minious endw
There is one person in this room. 1t
is the woman who had no romance
till now"
You mean"
That from the moment saw your
face felt that you belonged to me-or
had belonged to me. If you were to
live l would never tell you"
That is like woman" he said with
some bitterness. But am dying, and
may have Barmecidian feastr'
us it no more to you than that? You
will die and be compensated for all
losses. / shall llve-and remember
what have lost"
Forgive me. / will accept my com
pensations. Living-I was scorned!
My work-it was held ridiculous! /
am dying-and am given a boon. 1t
is the love ola woman, good as the an
gels, who has loved no other mani
And II have never loved n woman.
l viii not ask you to kiss the fever.
stricken lips. My spirit kisses yours,
Marie"
Neither OF them moved. They sat
silent, with their hands clasped.
Lucie, the maid, came in with the
lights.
Turn them low said the sick man.
81 have a notion that I may sleep"
Marie Ragnier sat by him while he
slept. Presently there came a convul-
sive tightening upon her hand
The rapids! The rapidsw The
words struggled up from a restricted
throat.
II am on the shore. my chevalier!
Monsieur Votre. / behold you. know
you are brave. I have decorated you"