The Lamar register., 1902-10-08
to be. a shrewd Yankee tourist II

to be, shrewd Yankee tourist in
great luck.
Count Leon believed he had the
magazine in condition for exploding.
the train well laid, and that the slow
match had already been ignited.
The very poldness of his stroke
would paralize all fair France. When
the news reached Paris that the presi.
dent had been kidnapped and that
Duke of Orleans was already over the
border at the head of an army. the old
royalist spirit that had been slumber-
ing SO long would burst from its con-
finement, and the whole country rise
up to welcome it's king.
1t happened before-it will some
day come again, though not without
civil war.
Glancing around the scene of action
the count saw that all seemed well.
His men were within easy call, and
near by the figure of President Car.
not could be distinctly seen as he chat
ted with the two gentlemanly aides
who were to serve as his body guard.
Constance was leaning over a wall,
with the mystical view Of the harbor
before her, and some one close by,
speaking in soft. lover-like tones.
The counts teeth made an ugly
sound as he recognized Merrick-this
man was forever crossing his path,
and had done so since first they met
in the Transvaal.
Well knowing what he did. Villebois
could well afford to laugh in n cynical
fashion.
He knew, being reader of human
nature. just how matters stood, and
that the girl loved Mark; but to man
of his calculating nature this did not
stand out as a terrifying obstacle to
the ultimate success of his suit.
According to his way of thinking as
| a Frenchman, there were more ways
than one to win capricious woman's
consent to marriage.
Merrick may nave apparently won
the second heat. but there was anoth-
er to decide the race-and Merrick
was doomed man. since he carried
a secret upon his person that the count
had sworn to possess.
Let the lovers, therefore, bill and
coo while the opportunity remained
let them feast their eyes upon the
beautiful and quaint harbor where the
cleaning of lights told of the numer-
Gus yachts at anchor-little they
dreamed, poor fools. deep in the in
toxication of their futtering love, that
this night, aye. this very hour. per-
haps, would see them prisoners on
board the steam yacht that bore away
the unhappy president of France. and
that ere the cruise ended the one
would be bride. the other a slave of
some desert tribe.
When it comes right down to
| schemes that are dark and dramatic
| the modern playwright need only con-
suit the files of Partisan papers for
tragedies that have actually occurred
upon the sacred soil of France. where
truth is always stranger than the wild
est dream of fiction. Other nations
are not in the same class when a COM
parison is made.
So that this anticipated COUP where
by such mighty things were to be ac-
complished, was. after all. very nat
ural development. according to the
light Frenchman had.
At signal from the count the grand
climax would be reached.
Why did he hesitate?
| There was an exhilaration in the
very thought that such power rested
in his hands-he experienced the Keen
est of satisfaction in feeling that a
peculiar combination of circum-
stances. leading up to this dramatic
| crisis, had for the moment made him
the arbiter of a nations destiny.
| Really, this thought was enough to
puff an ordinary man up with more or
less vanity, and Count Leon might be
excused for delaying that signal in
order to enjoy his triumph the more.
While Villebois stood there. gnaw.
ing his military mustache in a fierce
way, as he watched Merrick making
love to Little Miss Millions. some one
glided up to his side and purred in
his ear.
Turning, he was met by low, sill
very laugh.
1t was the witch of Monte Carlo,
the captivating Olgavitch, who tapped
his arm with her fan and betrayed
merriment at sight of the ugly frown
marking his brow.
"Ah, mon ami, why knit your brows
| because these turtle doves coo? You
and l are old campaigners in the
courts of love, and we know how
fragile are these VOWS when circum-
stances go the wrong way. Before a
fortnight she will be your bride, and
perhaps monsieur will deign yield to
my humble powers of fascination, If
all goes we'll"
| She uttered this last sentence in
such a peculiar tone that the count
shrugged his shoulders.
You are always like Doubling