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

mournfulIy. "But there is yet time for
confession and repentance"
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES You know,
then, that l have a confession to make
sins to repent OFF,
1T is work which every dying man
has to do, my friend"
The marquis advanced towards the
couch.
Henri, my brother!" he uttered, in sor-
rowful tones.
'Ha! you know me, then? / have be-
trayed myself at last-the brother who
swore vengeance ON the husband of
Guidette" He raised himself, with main
strength, upon his arm, and fiercely re-
garded the marquis.
"Ah, Henri, forgive nier' cried the
grief-stricken man.
Never shouted Henri, madly. Il
have been revenged on you; l have
brought sorrow and darkness to your
hearthstone, and l am satisfied! For the
sake of your child-the angel who has
smiled upon a wretched life, and touched
an evil heart with her innocence-for her
sake l will atone, at this last hour, for
the misery have caused you. You shall
give you for the wrong done to me-nev-
emo, never!' And raising his clenched
hand to heaven, he sealed the declaration
with a fearful oath. Then he sank
down, exhausted. A shudder ran through
every form within that chamber.
Henri" cried the marquis, throwing
himself on his knees beside the couch,
recall those words, conjure you! Listen
to me. l knew not Of the wrong l had
done you, till it was too late. Guidette
deceived me; she never told me that you
loved her-that she was betrothed to you!
/ welded her, thinking her free. But
she was curse to me. All, Henri, if you
desired revenge, she was the fttest in
strumentv'
The dying mans eyes were fixed earn
estly on his brothers face.
Say it once more-once more" he
painted, eagerly; tell me again that you
were innOcent-that you knew not of our
betrOthal-that she deceived you, and was
false to me"'
1T is true. Listen, Henri; swear itv'
His face was pale; the tears streamed
from his eyes; his clasped hands, uplift-
ed, trembled
''Then pardon me, Armande, for the
injustice l have done you," family ut
tered Henri, extending his almost pow
erless hands. and seeking that of his
brother-'pardon me, and | shall die in
peacev'
The marquis clasped that wasted hand
tenderly within his own. His tears fell
upon it.
Henri, have nothing to forgive. We
ho hnt ruh bo
''Nay-you do not know the misery
be confessed" His voice grew weaker.
Where is Rose?" he asked.
'She is at the chateau. She has been
ILL.,; but, thanks be to heaven, she is re-
covering!" answered the marquis, earn
estly.
1T is well. Give her my blessing, il
she will receive it from me, when she
knows all. l have been wretch; but
she has been an angel in my miserable
home. All, il the prayers of one so good
and pure as she could be offered to heav
en- for my salvation, surely they would
be heard! Ask her to forgive, and pray
for me, Armande." He paused, painting
for breath, and unable for moment to
continue. There was a terrible and
mournful silence in the ROOM Suddenly
he regathered his wasting energies. Hear
me, Armande, my brother, while have
strength left to make atonement. Be-
meath the hearth at the cottage, you will
find an iron chest; it contains my con-
fession" He paused again; his strength
was rapidly failing. A moment, and he
resumed, turning once more his fast-ob
securing eyes to his brothers face. 1T
will tell you Of your lost daughter-of
Marguerite! he gasped.
"Of Marguerite! Speak-speak, Hen
ri!' cried the marquis, in terrible agita-
ton; 'tell mel divine it-cOnfess, i'm
plore you! He cannot tell it-he is dying!
o, for moment longer!' he said. Hen
ri, tell me; breathe but one word; what
OF Marguerite?" He bent down nearer,
waiting in awful suspense.
The glazing eyes opened again. The
lips moved.
"Armande, hear!' were the slow, pain
fully whispered words. "Rose--I stole
her! She is-your child!'
Go be continued.)