The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-09-20
son and sire. I am worse than your great

son and sire, I am worse than your great
grandfather"
Yet my zest for the gaiety of the old
city grew as much as he desired. The
golden dome of the Invalides became my
bubble Of Paris floating under sunny sky.
Whenever I went to the hotel which De
Chaumont had hired near the Tuileries,
Madame de Ferrier received me kindly;
having always with her Madamoiselle de
Chaumont or Miss Chantry. so that we
never had a word In private.
I thought she might have shown
some little feeling in her rebuff
and pondered on her point of view re-
garding my secret rank. De Chaumont,
on the other hand, was beneath her in
everything but wealth.. How might she
regard STOPPING to him?
Miss Chantry was divided between en-
forced Difference and Saxon necessity
to tell me I would not last. I saw she
considered me one Of the upstairs Of the
empire, singularly favored above her
brother but under my f1nery the same
French savage she had known in Amer
lea.
Eagle brought Paul to me, and he tod
died across the floor looked at me wisely,
and then climbed my knee.
Doctor Chantry had been living In Pa
ris life above his dreams Of luxury
When occasionally met my secretary
he was about to drive out; Or he was re-
turning from De Chaumont's hotel. And
there ! caught my poor master reeiting
poems to Annabel, who laughed and
yawned, and made faces behind her fan.
am afraid he drew on the marquis
Oldest wines, finding Indulgence in the
house; and he sent extrayagant bills to
me for gloves and lawn cravats. It was
fortunate that De chaumont took him
during nay absence. He moved his be-
lengings with positive rapture. The mar
e4aj md hath nisoraaf +
to publish my journey.
Doctor chantry went sinperins, and
ahasing himself before the French noble
with the complete subservience of a Saxon
when Saxon does become subservient
The fool is laughahie." said the Mar
quis du Plessy: Get rio Of him, La
zarre, He is fit for nothing but hang
Ing upon some one who will feed him.
she Is nay master" I answered. II am
fool myself"
You will come back from Mittau con-
WINGED OF that, my boy. The. wise course
IS to join yourself to events. and let
them draw your chariot. My, dislikers saw
I have temperized with fate 1t is true I
am not 50 righteous as to smell to heaven
But two or three facts have been deeply
impressed on me. There is nothing more
aggressive than the virtue of an ugly,
interrupted woman or the determination
OK g young man to set every wrong thing
t.,
take mellow interest in what goes on
around him, but must leap into the ring.
You could live here with me indefinitely
while the nation has Bonaparte like the
measles. When the disease has run it's
course-we may be able to bring evidence
which will make 1t unnecessary for the
Count Of Provence to hasten here that
France may have king" g. -
"! want to see my sister, monsieur"
AND lose her and your own cause for
ever"
But he helped me to hire a strong tray
cling ehalse, and stock it with such com
| forts as 1t would bear, He also turned
my property over to me, recommending
that should not take it into Russia
Half the jewels, at least, l considered
tho property of the princess Mttau; but
his precaution influenced me to
leave three bags of coin in Doctor
Chantry's care; for Doctor Chantry was
the soul OF thrift with his own; and to
send Skenedonk with the jewel-ease to the
| marquis bank. The cautious Oneida took
counsel OF himself and hidHit in the chaise
He told me when" we were three days out.
1t is as true that you are driven to do
some Things as that You can never en-
tirely free yourself from any life you have
lived. That sunny existence in the Eau
bourg St. German, the morning and even
Ing talks with a man who bound me to
him as no other man has since bound me-
were too dear to leave even briefly with
| out wfenching pain. / dreamed nightly Of
robbers and disaster, Of being igno-
| miniously thrust out Of Mittau, Of seeing
a woman whose face was blur and who
moved backward from me when I called
her my sister; of troops marching across
and trampling me into the earth as straw.
| I groaned' In spirit. Yet to- Mittau I was
| spurred by the kind Of force that seems
to press from unseen distances, and is as
fatal as temperament. =:
When I paid my last visit at De Chau-
mont's hotel, and said was going into the
country, Eagle looked concerned, as a De
| Terrier should; but she did not turn her
head to follow my departure. The game
of man and woman was in its most blind
fold state between us.
| There was one, however, who watched
| me out Of sight. The marquis was more
agitated than I liked to see him. He
| took snuff with constant click Of the
! lid. =
| The hills Of Champagne, green with
vines, and white as with an underlay Of
chalk, rose behind us. We crossed the
frontier and German hills took their
| places. with castle topping each. was
at the time of life when interest stretches
eagerly toward every object; and though
this journey cannot be set down in a
| story as long as mine, the novelty-even
| the risks, mischances and weaknesses of
| continual post travel, come back like an
| invigorating breath of salt water.
The usual route carried US eastward to
Craeow, the old capital of Poland, scat
tered in ruined grandeur within it's brick
walls. Beyond it I remember strong
hold of the middle ages called the fort
ress of Landskron. q
The peasants of this country, men in
| shirts and drawers Of coarse linen, and
women with braided hair hanging down
under linen wells, stopped their carts as
soon as a post-carriage rushed into sight,
and bent almost to the earth. At post
houses the servants abashed themselves
| to take me by the heel. In no other
country was the spirit of man SO broken.
| Poles Of high birth are called the French
men of the north, and we saw fair men
and women in sumptuous polonaises and
long robes who appeared luxurious in their
| travelling carriages. But stiffness and
| solitude brooded ON the land. From Graz
COW to Warsaw wide reaches Of forest
| darkened the level. Any open circle was
belted around the horizon with woods,
pines, frs, beech, birch, and small oaks.
| Few cattle fed on the pastures. and
stunted crops of grain ripened in the mel
ancholy light. -s,E
From Cracow to Warsaw lisa distance
of 1870 leagues, II the position lied not
yet on that road we met but two carriages
and not more than a dozen carts. Scatter
| ing Nuoe4en VILLAGES. each q line of novels
appeared at long intervals.
! l'aStho,iSeS Uef,> kent nv Jews feS