The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1904-01-14

dark eyes.
Slowly the leaden night hours waxed
and waned; and Helen Montauban sat
slumber The countess. sitting by the
fire, still wept and prayed in silence. The
doctor came to the bedside.
You need rest, mademoiselle," he said;
Cannot | prevail upon you to retire and
snatch few hours repose while l watch
here? The fatigue and exposure of last
night, though no present ill effects are
felt from them, may be productive OF
evil consequences, if your nerves continue
thus overtaXed."
"Your pardon" returned Helen, in cold
and quiet tones, 'but / anticipate no un-
pleasant results from our adventure of
last night; and you must be conscious
that, even if such were not the case, l
should find it impossible to sleep now. |
must remain here"
"Ah-well" sighed the good old man;
''if you are fully determined on this, it
must be SO; and 1 trust all will be we'll"
He sat down by the bed, leaned his
head on his hand and fixed a thoughtful
and sorrowful glance upon the feverish
countenance turned towards him on the
pillow. Rose looked at him with her
wild, bright, piteous gaze.
Where is LOUISE" she asked; where
is he? Why do they keep him from meT'
Tears stood in the physicians eyes.
He laid his gentle hand, with its cool
touch, on that burning forehead.
BE quiet. my child" he said. He will
cOme-Louis will come"
"No-no! he will not-he will not
come" she cried, with feeble grief. Il
have not seen him this long time.
thought we were to be married. 1t was
a dream, was it not?" And again that
heart-breaking sorrowful glance was
fixed on him. IL don't know why l am
lying here" she murmured, sadly, look
ing about her. Il ought to be ready to
weak-so tired! l believe l have been
journeying somewhere. But such a
strange journey! l don't think it ever
will end; and l am wandering all alone.
And so weary, weary, weary! All, Louis,
why don't YOU come and help me? You
said you loved poor Rosev'
Mournful and plaintive grew those rest
less, feverish tones; fearful and troubled
the brilliant eyes; but still, though ex-
hausted by her constant rawlings, and
though her cheeks burned more holly and
her heart throbbed with terrible violence,
and her breathing was short and painful,
there was no rest for her. Still she raved
Of Louis, and begged him to see how her
feet were torn and bleeding with the long
and weary way she came, and then she
wnnIH that ho wnly1H
never, never, never!'
And that wild, mOurnful wall might
have drawn tears from a stone; but Helen
Montauban was more than a stone.
The doctor went out, leaving Helen
MOntauban there to battle the heated
forehead of the sick girl, and offer water
to those parched lips. And she said,
looking down upon the stricken form be-
fore her, ''She is in my power"
Alas! only too completely so! Made
moiselle MOntauban had gathered
that Nj. Merry had but a slight hope Of
Roses recovery. 1t must be. No turn
ing back, or Ainching, or hesitating, for
that desperate nature now! That hope
must never become a stronger one! 1t
was hers to see to it. Pouring out the
water for which the sufferer prayed, ever
and anon. her hand involuntarily clutch
ed the tiny vial concealed in her bosom.
Yet-no! A little delay; the disease
might terminate fatally in a few days,
and spare her the work for which she
was prepared. But in case it were not
so. then 1t was poison. subtle and
sure as death itself Few were there
who knew Of such; few-almost no tests
that could detect it's presence. To Helen
Montauban had been given a knowledge
of this poison in by-gOne years. and she
had guarded that knowledge like gold.
The secret. so long preserved, was likely
to become useful to her now
1t was midnight. All over the chateau,
there was deep and heartfelt rejoicing;
but it was subdued in it's manifestations.
for the life that had so lately been pro-
nounced safe was only slowly and family
fluttering up from the edge of the grave;
and every voice spoke in whispers, every
footstep was muffied. All day she had
slept, and the exhaustion produced by
her violent and prOtracted delirium was
so great that that slumber had hardly
seemed like the rest of living form For
scarce the faintest breath could be per-
ceived, or the slightest motion of that
feebly beating heart. Yet had the ply
stefan filled the breasts of those about
him with a too delicious hope that hung
for certainty upon her awakening.
Then had the evil desire of Helen Mon
tauban grown to an intensity that was
fiendish. Watching, with her haggard
face and cleaning eyes, beside that
couch, she had fixed her serpent gaze up
on the almost lifeless being who lay there,
looking with cruel and terrible eagerness
for the sign of death to set itself upon
that young sufferers brow. Yet it came
not, and her eagerness grew almost into
madness. The one way remained. She
\ L. u =. L.