The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1903-12-31
! The Contrabandist; : E;:s
One Life'S Secret! , ,: :: !


dim with watching. But the day passed
and the evening went by, but he did not
come.
He will come to-morrow-do you not
think so?" asked Rose, apxiously, as she
looked up at Louis.
Undoubtedly, my darling" answered
Louis, with a smile of sanguine cheerful
ness. Something must absolutely pre-
vent him, or he would be here to-day.
You know he would hasten to seek you,
Rose. But he will come tomorrow; and.
at all events, have his address. o, he
will come, never fear!'
1t was noon of the following day. All
the morning Rose had been waiting. with
the utmost impatience, for the appear
ance of Hugh; but, as yet he had failed
to come. The countess and Helen were
in their respective apartments. The mar
quis and Louis had gone out after await
ing since early morning the arrival of
the expected visitor, but had promised
to return shortly. Rose sat alone. count
ing the moments and striving to find
amusement in watching the scene with
out in the busy street. Every figure that
passed she scanned eagerly; every face
underwent the scrutiny of her anxious
glance.
Suddenly she was attracted to one in
PARTICULAR figure and cOuntenance and
bearing, like yet unlike those of her faith
era person who seemed to be seeking
some place in this wilderness of struc-
lures, consulting, at the same time,
card which he held in his hand. How
eagerly she bent forward! He crossed
looked up-met her glance. Yes-it was
Hugh Lamonte. But how changed, He
disappeared in the entrance beneath. She
sprang to unclose the door of the apart
ment. A familiar step was just without;
it paused, and as the door opened, Rose
beheld him before her.
my dear father she said, joyfully,
as he clasped her silently in his arms.
You are glad to see me, then, mig
nonneY'
"Glad?-ah, yes! l have waited till l
was ready to cry, papa"
Holding him still by the hand, she led
him in. Rose saw, now, though she would
not seem to remark it, the reason of his
altered appearance, which had at first
prevented her from recognizing him. For
now, instead of the coarse and humble
garb ordinary with him, he was clothed
in the attire of gentleman, in garments
of fine yet plain material, suiting well
with the undeniably noble and striking
form and natural grace of the wearer.
The profusion of hair, formerly rOughen-
ing and Disgusting his features, had been
partially removed. and the effect was
no less agreeable than astonishing. No
wonder that Rose had scarcely known
him You would not have guessed that
this man had ever hewn wood in the
forest, and dwelt, a peasant labOrer, in
a peasants hut. But Hugh, for reasons
OF his own, had chosen to cast off the
character in which he had so long appear
ed, in this visit to Rose. Perhaps he
had endeavored, by this change, TO pre-
vent Rose from being obliged to contrast,
with feelings of pain, his apparent pow
erty with the luxury OF her position. AS
il was, she wondered silently at the
change, yet much as she desired to in
quire into his circumstances, a feeling
of restraint, or delicacy, prevented her
at first
They sat there conversing for upward
of an hour, during which she informed
him of all that had lately taken place
with regard to herself; of the discovery
Louis and herself had been concerned.
and of her approaching marriage with
him. Hugh listened to her story smiled
at the romantic part of it, and was grave
again.
II knew, Rose" he said, who Robin
was"
You knew, papa?'
Yes. But | saw that the count was
honorable and sincere in his affection for
you, and permitted him to think his dis
guise safe. | would not have allowed
you 10 marry a peasant, Rose"
Father, why noty'
You will know one day, my child"
She looked perplexed IA moment; then
CHANGING up into her fathers face. said:
You heard of my Imprisonment in the
cavern, fa:herT
YES. Jacques told me. All. my child.
how happy | am thar You escaped. What
do we not owe To the count and to oar
faithful Jacques?'
What, indeed?" echoed Rose. warmly.
But" she resumed. "Gasparde was
killed. papa"
Il knew OF that also. The wretch will
meet a just account"
He said he was not my cousin. How
was that, papa"
He told the truth. He was no rela-
ton of yours: only had known him
since he was an innocent, or. at least, an
innocent seeming boy, when you first saw
| him in your infancy, and then. you know.
| i babe you call each other cousin after
wards"
But how wicked he was-a brigand
chief! All. if we had known it, papa.
how much more dreadful he would have
/ seemedt We should never have dared TO