Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1903-11-19
| The COntrabandiSt; .F$:s E;$:s
OF
THE {
| One Life'S Secret! ,.;$s. ,ss5s Z;
CHAPTER XIII.

FURNISHED library OF the marquis, the hii-
yer lamps burned with q soft, subdued
glow, blending their moonlight radiance
with the deeper and warmer iinge cast By
blaHlng wood Gre upon the broad hearth
over the magnificent apartment, with It's
dark. massive, antique furniture, It's
broad, high walls, lined with costly and
substantial volumes, the crimson draper
lee OF its deep windows. and the polished
oaken floor that ahOne aud reflected back
the mellow warmth In ripping lines Of
light.
Beside table OF curiously earven oak,
which IL strewn with rare aud ancient
volumes aud the writing implements Of
the marquis. aud which occupies the cen.
ter Of the floor. sits Rose. She Is lean
Ing forward upon this table, her face hid
den In her folded arms-those fair, sculp-
tured arms whose snowy whlteness
CLEANS rarely through the veil OF falling
trssses. Her graceful form is attired In
robe OF shining fabric. Its pearl-hued
folds sweeping the noor about her and
shining, glitterlng softly In the mellow
light shed all around her. She does not
move: she is sllent--motioness she hard
" seems TO breathe even. 80 quiet is
she, a. she recIines thus, with her face
concealed, that you might think her sleep
ing.
But Rose ls not sleeping. Her errand
hither Ii OF too painful nature for that.
Alone. In this swelling silence. she waits:
and listening for an approaching foot.
step. the hour passes in deep and sorrow.
ful rsTerie. For Rose has a duty. too
long deferred. to perform tonight. and
Its consequences may be only too bitter
bitter 20 her, inaHmuch 40 they affect
others. She does not fear the perform
ance OF this duty because she shrinks
from fulhlllng her trust-from keeping
her plIEhtsd word; but she pictures to
herself the disappointment she may be
about 10 Iniiict on others.
A distant door uncloses, but so softly
In Its casing of cloth that no sound fol-
lows. II 10 q gentleman who enters; he
pauscs a moment: his glance takes In the
beauty and subdued splendor OF the scene
before him; but II IL accustomed to that.
IL rests upon the center OF the whole
upon the bowed figure Of the young girl
yondsr by the table. A shadow. blend
Ing at once of sorrow and perplexlty,
rests upon his flne brew. Then closing
the door. he advances. and stands bcslds
the table
"RoseI' he calls. gently.
The young girl raised her head.
"Is II you. Louisr she asked, with an
air OF sadness. II thought you were
away"
Il have remained at home, Rose.
could not 20. ! wished to see you"
"You wished TO see me. Louis? We
are In each others presence every day.
TO-night--"
"Ay, tonight, Rose! Tonight. you
would say, you have an interview with
my uncle, and cannot listen to me.
knew OF this interview; my uncle told
me; and, forgive me, dear Rose, but
would prevent ltv'
He spoke In = subdued, but agitatel
voice. He seated himself beside her,
and eaned. also, forward on the table,
with his hands clasing hers, as he ut
tered these imploring words.
"YOu would prevent It, Louis.-why?
Would You bid me neglect the fulfilment
of a duty already too long delNyed?"
"Ah, Rose, you are about to seal your
fate! Think once more, beseech you;
there Is time. Break this ideal bondage;
be silent, aud forget the vows that are
no longer binding. Do not bring this
great sorrow to my uncle, who loves you
no; do not break up this happy house,
hold, which can be no more happy when
you have sacrificed yourself-when you
have left the hearth that is only bright
with your presence, to hide yourself in
obscurityw
The tears were filing her sweet eyes;
great cry was struggling for utterance
In her breast; but she silenced it with 4
half-despalring effort. She raised her
glance to his.
"You are aware. then, Louis, of the
object Of this interview?"
"Ah, too well-too wellv he answered;
"for knew that 1t must come, sooner
or later, since you adhere to the decision
you once made. But again ask you
do not reveal this secret to my uncle"
"It Is not alone my promise to Robin
which I regard, Louis"
'You would say that you love him
still, thenT
The tears fell from her eyes; blush
stole to her fair cheek; her head was
turned aside.
"Ah, mono! do not say II, Rosev' he
cried, sorrowfully.
''IIouis--Louis, this It not kind-it is
not like your said the young girl, turn
ing to him again. "You know / cannot
break my promise. DO not add to the
sorrow I already feel. l must see your
uncle; l must acknowledge my betrothal
to Robin"
"And render him unhappy, cut Helen
to the very heart, leave me
wretchsd-miserable! Rose, listen to
me-"
"Louis, be silent, l entreat! she ut
tered, withdrawing her hand from his,
while the crimson glow OF consciousness
and timidity suffused her countenance;
have pity on me!'
"Rose, one instant. Let me speak for
the last time. love you; would ask
you to be my wife! Nay-do not start
and turn away from me. Hear me to the
end. How can l bear to see you--you,
Rose, who should move among the high
est and the noblest OF France, envied and
admired by all-who should have at
command the thousand luxuries for
which you were born-who should oc-
cupy, finally, a position and enjoy ad-
suited to your beauty, your
grace, your refinement, your intellect
how can bear to see you the wife OF
4 PEASANT All, be merciful to mel be
Just to yourself; awake from this fatal
trance; for you are dreaming, Rose"
He spoke with strange energy. His
tones thrilled through her; his glance
sought hers, waiting for an answer, with