Morris tribune., 1903-08-22
rs i & i.
|. A GOLD LOUIS

When Lucien De Hem saw his
last bank note raked in by the
croupier and rose from the roulette
table where he had just lost the re-
mains of his little fortune, he felt
as if the earth was spinning and
as if he could not hold himself up.
Completely upset, he threw him
self down upon the leather covered
settee which extended around the
room. For few moments he looked
vaguely around the gambling room
in which he had wasted the best
years Of his life, realized that he
was hopelessly ruined, remembered
that commode held a pistol with
which his father, General De Hem,
then only captain, had used so
well at the attack on Zaatcha; then,
overcome by fatigue, he fell into a
deep sleep.
When he awoke, he judged, after
glancing at the clock, that he had
slept scarcely half an hour and he
felt an imperious desire to breathe
the fresh night air. The hand of
the clock showed that it was a
quarter to IL.
Rising and stretching out his
arms, Lucien suddenly remembered
that it was Christmas eve, and as if.
in irony his memory carried him
back to the days of his childhood,
and he saw himself putting his
shoes by the fireplace before going
to bed.
| Just at this moment old Dronski,
a devotee of the gambling table,
came up to Lucien mumbling some
thing behind his dirty gray beard.
'Iend me francs, sir. [ have not
stirred from here for two days, and
in that two days the II has not come
up. Laugh or not, as you please,
but I would give my hand if to-
night at midnight that number does
not win"
Lucien De Hem shrugged his
shoulders. He did not have enough
in his pockets to make the contribu-
ton which the inmates of the place
styled "the Polander's 100 sous"
He went into the cloak room, put
on his wraps and descended the
staircase with feverish agility. Dur
ing the four hours that Lucien had
been in the place it had showed
steadily, and the streets were white.
The ruined gambler shivered under
his furs and walked quickly along.
His steps we're soon arrested by
pitiable spectacle.
On a stone fence covered with
snow, which, according to the an
Gent custom, stood before the open
ing of hotel, little girl six or
seven years old, scarcely covered by
ragged black dress, was sitting.
She had fallen asleep in spite of the
bitter cold in an attitude Of fatigue
and abandonment, and her poor lit
tie head and delicate shoulders were
bent in an angle in the wall and
rested against the icy stone. One
of the sabots the child wore had
slipped off her foot and was lying in
front of her.
With mechanical gesture Lucien
De Hem put his hand into his peck
ct. Then he remembered that mo-
ment before he had not been able
to find single piece to give the
errand boy at the club.
Urged by an instructive feeling of
pity, however, he went up to the
child, and was about to take her in
his arms perhaps and carry her to
place of shelter for the night when,
in the sabot lying in the snow, he
saw something glittering, It was
gold louis!
A benevolent person, a woman
doubtless, passing by, had seen the
shoe lying before the sleeping child
on this Christmas eve, and recalling
the touching legend had given mu-
nifcently so that the abandoned
child might still believe in the gifts
made by the infant Jesus and in
spite of her misfortune have some
confidence and hope in the goodness
of Providenc.
A louis! That meant several days
Of rest and ease for the beggar. Luz
Glen was about to waken her and tell
her about it when he heard close to
his ear, as in a dream, voice-the
voice of the Polander-murmuring
these words:
81 have not stirred from here for
two days, and for two days the II
has not come up. I would give my |
hand If tonight at midnight that
number does not win"
This young man of twenty-three,