The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1905-07-26

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speak these words without convul-
sions."
When Victorine was alone with her
def,d, she had wild outburst of pas
sionate grief, but 1t rapidly gave way
to calmness so stern that It would
have appalled, an observer had there
been witnesses in the chamber OF
death.
Hector de Grantier," she said, ad-
dressing the cold clay, "if my Creator
spares my life, your son, whom your
eyes were never to behold, shall be
your avenger. | will rear him strong,
valiant, skilful, and teach him to look
for no happiness, no rest, no employ
ment, until he has slain the man who
has robbed you of life, me of a hus-
band and himself of a father"
Two months after the funeral the
friends of the family were apprised
that the widowed lady was the mother
of a-daughter! Shortly after this
event, she retired with her infant child
to an estate in Brittany.
Sixteen years passed away, and then
Victorine de Granthier, still wearing a
widows weeds, again resumed her resi-
dence in Paris. She lived in fash
ionable quarter, but in great privacy,
receiving only relatives, making no ac-
quaintances. Her daughter, named
Claudine, had grown up beautiful
girl. the picture of health-a bright
flower to bloom in the almost conven-
tional gloom of her mothers house.
The only frequent visitor was the
young Chevalier de Hauteville, a cousin
of Claudine, and, strange to say, per-
feet image of the glrl-the same height,
features and complexion. The gossips
of the neighborhood said they were
born for each other, and predicted
marriage between the parties. But the
servants of the family asserted that the
old lady would never for some reason
of her owa, probably that of nearness
of blood, permit the alliance, and that
the young people rarely if ever met.
| II was observed that whenever Claud-
| inc had gone to church, the chevaller
was sure to make his appearance, and
when he was in the drawing room she
was always absent. Whether this was
arranged by the mother, or whether
this young woman and this young man,
so strangely alike, cherished an antip-
athy equally strange, was a mystery
like almost everything else in that
mysterious household.
A. IA f,t1 1a1 t,, hnr
of vengeance by the sex of her off
spring, forgotten or forgiven Raoul
| Maltravers? No one knew, but no one
ever heard her pronounce his name.
Meanwhile Raoul Maltravers had
| left the sea, not being particularly fond
of the music of heavy guns, for, though
| brave enough on the duel ground, be-
cause he was the best blade in France,
and always sure of victory, he was
really potroon. He had married a
very beautiful heress, and lived in
great splendor. He had more than one
affair of honor after his marriage,
| with in each case, fatal result to his
antagonist.
One day the Chevalier de Hauteville
made morning call on Madame de
Grantier. He found her in her boudoir
which was draped with black, and
lighted with wax tapers.
"You know this is a sad anniver-
sary," she said Then she added, with
a sharp look of inquiry: "Raoul NAL
travers?"
"Dead," was the reply,
Come to my heart" cried Victorine.
'vlaudine, you have avenged your
father!"
"Claudine!" | exclaimed, in utter
astonishment, when the old countess
had come to this point of her narrative.
YES" she replied; "the Chevalier de
Hauteville and Claudine de Grantier
were one and the same person. Madame
de Grantier had reared her daughter
like a man, and trained her to arms
in the solitude of her old provincial
manor house, where wondrously
skilled professor of the sword, an ltal-
ian, gave her lessons daily. You must
not think too harshly of the memory
| OIL uc "hi NV
positively certain that the death or
her husband turned her brain, and that
during all her years Of widowhood she
was monomaniac That she inspired
her daughter with her fanatical idea of
vengeance is natural-the mother lived
for no other purpose"
But what became of Claudine?"
"She is still living at an advanced
age. a widow" replied the countess.
Doubtless narrowed by remorse for
having shed human blood?'
ut caused her great suffering for
years. but the clergy whom she con-
suited told her that the circumstances
absolved her from all moral guilt. She
was an irresponsible agent of her
mother-her judgment deliberately per
verted by one, who herself had lost
the power of reason. Yet were many
hours of bitter sorrow and penitence
passed by that unhappy woman. And
now let me show you sad relic
The old lady rose, walked to an
ebony cabinet, and unlocking it, took
out a long, old-fashioned rapier and
bade me draw it. examined the blade