The citizen. [volume] (Berea, Ky.) 1899-1958, 1905-11-09


They are a cruel people. the Eng
lish," said he. Il am afraid 20 find
them will be matter of great diff
Guilty"
The former called to me a. passed I
But the letter."
"Ah, the letter." he interrupted, feel
Ing in his pocket. THE letter is not
much. II is from Tiptoes - from
Louison. Il was mailed this side OF
the river at Morristown. You shall
gee; they do not know where they are, 4"
lie handed me the letter. read IL
with an eagerness could not conceal.
II went as follows:
my Dear Count: II this letter reaches
you IL will, 1 hope. relieve your anx-
iety. We are alive and WELL but where?
I am sure ! have no better idea than II
l were = baby Just born. We came here
with our eyes covered after long ride
from the river, which we crossed in tho
night. / think II must have taken us
three days 70 come here. We are. shut
up In a big house with high walls and
trees and gardens around tia beautiful
place. We have fine beds end everything
to eat, only we miss the bouil-labaisse.
and the Jokes OF NJ. Pidgeon, and the fne
old claret. A fat Engllshwoman who
waddlos around like big goose and who
calls ne Mumm las IL / were a wine
makcrD waits upon us. We do not know
the name OF our host. He Is a tail man
who says little and has hair on his neck
and on the back OF his hands. Dieui he
IS a lord who talks as II he were too lazy
to breathe. IL IL Your Lordship this
and Your Lordship that But 1 must
speak well of him. because he Is going TO
read this letter: It l. on that condition
l am permitted to write. Therefore I
say he is a great ard good man, a beau
tiful man. The baroness and Louise send
love to all. Madame says do not worry;
we shall come out all right: but l say
worryl and. good man. do not cease 20
worry until we are safe home. Tell the
cure he has something to do now.
have worn out my rosary. and am losing
faith. Tell him 70 try his. Your affec-
tionate. LOUISON."
"She is an odd girl" said the count,
as gave back the letter, so full Of
fun, so happy. so bright, so quick-al-
ways on her tptoes. Come, you are
tired; you have ridden far IN the dust.
! shall make you glad TO be here"
A groom took my horse, and the count
led me down a wooded slope TO the
lakeside. Octagonal warehouses,
painted white, lay floating at anchor
near us. He rowed me TO one OF them
for a bath. Inside was a rug and a
table and soap and linen. A broad
panel on a side OF the floor came up as
pulled a cord, showing water clear
and luminous TO the sandy lake-bot-
tom. The glow OF the MONDAY filed
the lake to its shores. and in a mo-
ment Glove the sunlit depths-a rare
delight after my long, hot ride.
At luncheon We talked OF the war,
and he made much complaint Of the
northern army, as did everybody those
days.
MY boy" said he. you should join
Perry on the second lake II is your
only chance 70 fight. to win glory"
He told me then of the impending
battle and OF Perry's great need Of
men. | had read OF the sea-dghting
and longed for a part in II. To climb
on hostile decks and fight hand 10
hand was thing 10 my fancy An.
Welt was young then, At the counts
table that day I determined TO go, II
could get leave.
Thercse and a young Parisienne. her
friend, were at luncheon with us. They
babe us adieu and went away for a gall
lOp as We took cigars. We had no
sooner left the dining room than l
called for my horse. Due at the Har-
Dor that evening. could give myself no
lorger to the fine hospitality Of the
count. In a few moments was bound
ing over the road, now cool in deep
forest shadows. A little way on
overlook Therese and the Parisienne.
drew rein, coming back and stopping
beside her The other went on at a
walk.
"M'sieur lie Capitaine. have you any
news of them-of Louise and1ouison?"
she inquired. You and my father
we're so busy talking 1 could not ask
you before"
Il know this only: they are in cap
tivity somewhere. cannot tell where"
you look worried, M'sieur 10 Cap
itaine; you have not the happy face,
the merry look. any longer. In June
you were boy. in August-voilal ii
is a mani Perhaps you are preparing
for the ministry"
She assumed a solemn look, glanc-
ing up at me as II in mockery Of my
sober face. She was a slim, fine bru-
nette, who. as knew, had long been
a oonfdante of Louison.
Alas nam selle. am worried. I
have no longer 9ny peace
do you miss them?" she inquired,
a knowing look in her handsome eyes.
do not think me impairment"
more than l miss my mother"
said.
Il have a letter." said she. smiling.
II do not know thought | should
show IL to you. but-but not to-day"
us It from them?
1T Is from Louison-from Tiptoes."
"And-and it speaks of me?"
"Ah, msieur," said she. arching her
brows, lit has indeed much TO say Of
you"
"And-and may / not see it?"
asked eagerlv "Ma'm'gelle | tell van