Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1904-11-15


| her into the hotbed of dissipation and
intrigue of which Louis XIV. was the
focus, in Paris or at Versailles.
Her health, much benefited by the
voyage, was soon completely restored.
and with her great beauty, her ancient
name, her powerful grandfather, the
great estates to which she was sole
heiress, she became, as childhood gave
way to womanhood, the undoubted
belle Of New France. The officers of
the army, the sea officers from the var
ious ships or squadrons which from
time to time arrived from France, the
young Canadian noblesse, all laid their
hearts at her feet. She could have
chosen any one from among them.
but as yet none Of them had succeeded
In touching her heart. Most Of them
she liked and the society Of many Of
them she enjoyed.
Among the many she had met who
had paid court to her, the man she
most liked, and who was, in fact, per-
haps the finest among them, was the
young sailor to whom, in fear of her
love for Grafton, she had just engaged
herself. She had refused his suit many
times before, but with undaunted gal
lantry he had persisted in his at
tentions.
How her grandfather, the marquis,
would regard the engagement upon
which she had so suddenly and cap
riciously entered was problematical.
In fact, she felt that he would disap-
prove; but while she was wholly
French in her training and in her ideas
she was not for nothing the daughter
Of an American mother. She combined
a determination to exercise a certain
liberty Of choice as to the disposition
Of her heart and person with the stub
born, inflexible will power Of her
grandfather. Therefore, she could
meet the certain antagonisn Of the
marquis with two weapons-his own
and her mothers. She trusted also
that he might be won to her view; she
was sure he would rather see her
dead than have her marry an English
man, an enemy, and she hoped, when
she explained to him that in utter
despair she had thrown herself into the
arms of the one to escape the prompt
ings Of her heart, which, would fain
have thrown her into the arms Of the
other, that he would acquiesce.
She had no one to advise her, poor
child! The ancient relative to whose
care she had been committed. had died
a few weeks since of the cares, anx-
ieties and privations brought about by
the seige. An ordinary French girl
would have gone to convent under
the circumstances, but Anne possessed
a certain amount of self-reliance and
independence, and she resolved, for
the time being, at least, to remain at
her own house with old Jean Renaud
and Josette. If the English were driven
away she made up her mind that at
any hazard she would take ship for
France. If, on the contrary, the Eng
lish captured the town she would prob
ably be sent back a prisoner. SO she
awaited the issue Of the campaign, in
the meantime busying herself with
caring for the sick and wounded.
1t was evening. She stood by the
dormer window looking out on the
street. Grafton watched her closely
from the bed. She had stopped mo-
ment to inquire for him, her third and
to be her last visit that day, and
then, attracted by a commotion out
side, she had gone to the window.
A little cortege filled the street be-
low. Some soldiers bore upon their
shoulders a rude wooden box. Over 1t
was laid the golden-lilied white flag OF
France, and upon the flag handsome
sword. A half-dozen men, holding
pine torches whose Pickering, wavering
flames cast an uncertain illumination
over the scene, walked by the make
shift coffin. Immediately behind came
few priests, and then Monsieur de
Ramesay and his staff, and little hud-
die of townspeople-the idle and the
curious.
There were no strains Of martial
music; there was neither blare OF
bugle nor roll of drum, nor tolling
bells. There was no ceremony, no
pomp; there were no women even.
Anne leaned her head upon the case
ment, her tears falling softly. Her
body shook with sobs. Grafton stared
at her keenly and curiously. There
was a strange pain at his heart when
he saw her weep.
Presently the funeral procession
passed the window. The lights from
the torches, almost at level with her
face in the window Of the low-studded
old house, threw 1t into high and bright
relief. She was off her guard, not
thinking Of herself or even Of Grafton,
for the moment 1t was the first time
that he had been able to see her we'll.
Suggestions of the truth came across
him with q sense Of shock, and yet
he did not quite recognize her. He
was not sure. 1t could not be.
"Mademoiselle," he said softly, "you
told me your name was"
'De Couedic. Yes, monsieur" she
answered, with her eyes still fixed upon
the street, though he noticed that she
turned her face away from him.
Was she discovered at last? Could
he suspect, she thought.
"I had thought" he continued, then
he stopped.
"Mademoiselle, you weep" he said.
Eyes, monsieur"
"Who passes in the street? Those
lights, what are they?"