Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1903-12-31
CIIApTEn XXI

/ the very portals Of dehth. the deepest still
ness reigned. Softly burned the shaded
lamps, casting a subdued glow about th'
apartment. yet so disposed as to leave u
shadow the curtalned couch and It's slum'
bering occupant. For Rose was sleepins
calmly, so ca1mly, so quietly. that YOU
might almost have thought her dead. The
breath that Hoated from those pale lips
was scarcely perceptblc, though regular
no much had illness reduced her strength
She slept, nor dreamed Of danger.
For the first time to-day the Invalid
was left alone. But suddenly. the door
near the head OF the couch was opened
noiselessly, and with slow and stealthy
caution, from without. A tall, light
robed, ghostlike form glided Ia without
a sound-ghost'like. except for the large
brilliant dark eyes that CLEANED more
wildly than ever tonight, and the Grim
son spot oe excitement burning on either
cheek, while all the rest Of that face was
ashy white. II was Helen Montaubanl
What more fitting time was there for her
work OF evil 10 be accompllshedf None
could witness her now; none were near
this place. And the tiny fask cleaned
10 the softened light. as she drew II from
her bosom.
One hand. holding the vial. was stretch
ed forth 10 the silver cup set upon the
stand by the bedside. Courage. and the
work Is done, Yet that guilty hand shook
with fear. as, drop by drop, the poison
was poured into the cup. And Helen
Montauban glanced fearfully towards the
door by which she had catered; for Il al
most seemed, 10 her miserable. horror
struck fancy, that some one must be
watching her.
A shadow had startled her. With a
CHASTITY smile az her own nervousness, she
silently mingled the poison with the night
drink OF Rose; then. as noiselessly as she
had entered, returned TO her own room
across the gallery. II was done! What
had she 10 fear nowI Who would ever
dream, when the hour OF death came,
that such agency as this had been em-
ployedf Closing the door, she paced her
chamber restlessy, with both hands
clasped tightly against her heart, whose
violent throbblngs seemed to fill with
clamorons sound this awful midnight ST.
leuce. Listening IN almost intolerable
suspense. and pacing her apartment, she
waited for some signal from the opposite
chamber.
A whole hour passed, Then there was
a sound-a light step-in the gallery. IL
was the Countess de Clairville. return
ing to the bedside of Rose. Helen Mon
tauban could endure this suspense no
longer. She must see. with her own eyes
the conclusion OF this tragedy. Bmerg'
ing from her apartment, therefore, she
Joined the countess, as she entered the
opposite door.
"Ah, my dear, Is that you? Then you
have been asleep also?" said the countess,
smiling. "But II Is rather chilly tonight
do you not think soT"
"Yes--it Is cold" uttered Helen Mon
tauban. hoarsely--'it Is cOld!' and she
shivered.
She drew near the fire and crouched
shudderingly over the broad blaze, The
Countess de Clairvllle went to the couch
OF Rose and bent over It for an instant.
"The dear child Is asleep, | think" she
said, presently, returning to the hearth.
How refreshing-how delightful 1t Is for
one to see her once more enjoying so gem
tie a slumber! Poor little Rose! she must
be well nigh worn out with this fatigu-
ing illness. WONDER" the lady contin-
ued, seating herself by the hearth, oppo-
site Mademoiselle Montauban-"l Won
der how her father is down at the vii
lager They thought he was dying this
morning when the marquis went down.
What sad thing 1t would have been II
the father and daughter had both diedv'
She spoke In subdued whispers.
Mademoiselle Montauban bent lower
over the blaze, warming her hands.
"And peculiar, too" she returned, in
a low tone. But we cannot be too care
ful of her. even now; for NJ. Merry says
that, in her present feeble state, the least
excitement or alarm might be fatal TO
her. dread that. think, suppose any
thing should happen, after all our re-
joicing2 We must be so cautious! The
least thing, you know-the least thing
might kill herv
She shook as she uttered these words;
her eyes were wild and strange. Those
delicate, slender hands touched the
flames, as she held them out, but she
never knew It. A species of insanity was
upon her. The protracted contemplation
Of this terrible deed, strong as were her
nerves, had begun almost to tell upon
her reason.
II wonder II Hugh Lamonte is still liv-
ingW continued the countess. ut Is
pity that he could not be brought here;
but Jean Morel said they had declared
It impossible to move him with safety.
Besides, It would be dangerous to Rose,
perhaps, if he were In her vicinity, for
she would be more likely to gain some
knowledge of his situation. Yet what a
sorrowful thing it is that they cannot bid
each other adieuw
At that moment the door near the head
Of the couch was opened. Both the coun-
tess and Helen turned to see who en-
tered. 1t was the physician, M. Merry
He paused by the bedside an instant, bent
over Rose and listened, Her respiration
was calm and'regular, though almost i'm
perceptible. After regarding her a mo-
ment, he advanced silently towards the
hearth. A chill struck through the guilty
Helen. She had not expected him so
soon, and the deed was vet unaccompish-
ed
"Ah, M. Merry, Is that you?" said the
countess; and she bent eagerly forward.
"How is--"
The physician placed a warning finger
upon his lip.
mot too loud, my dear madame" he
whispered. ut is all overg'
"Ah, how sadP' The tears came into
her eyes.
M. Merry sat down, leaning his head
upon his hand. He was very grave to-