The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1908-03-11

come tHenl.
Arthur's spirits, however, rose with
the prospect of seeing q new country
and life under ar altogether new as
pect. He jumped out of the train
with alacrity. perhaps we shall find
Monsieur Rigaud himself come te
meet YOU" he said, cheerily.
HE would hardly know me if he
did" she answered; II have not seen
him for six years"
"Ah! That, then, is the reason that
he continues to carry about an image
Of his daughter in his mind in a
school girls short frock and pima
FORE" he said, gaily. Come, Madem-
oiselle Rigaud, will you get out? ]
will see to the luggage"
There was no sign of Monsieur
Rigaud outside. However, when
they came out of the station, and
when Arthur asked if no carriage had
been sent from Mon Repos to meet
them, the porter in a loose blouse
laughed and pointed to the road. An
toinette gave him a little glance, half
sad, half arch, as the vehicle which
had been sent to meet them drew up.
1t was neither more nor less than
a bakers van, drawn by a quaint,
white horse, with jingling bells on it's
brass ornamented harness. The driv-
er was a big, rough fellow, attired in
a dirty sheepskin coat, and huge
wooden sabots on his feet. He greet
ed Mademoiselle Rigaud with a
friendly nod, but added, with a kind
of jocose familiarity which made Ar
thur feel unreasonably angry:
Your father asked MI last Sunday
if 1 would fetch you for some sous
less than the diligence from La Pie
Blanche Dame, but he drives a
hard bargain, your papa! He would
not even throw in a bottle of cider of
three sous; but matters were ar
ranged at last. Only be quick, my
little demoiselle, for I have yet two
commissions to do in the town, and
your papa doubtless awaits you with
Impotence"
luCy Gu III Will SOilS ollll
Guilty. The springs of the cart might
or might not have existed; Arthur
suspected their non-existence, and the
: seats consisted of broad leather bands
about a foot wide stretched across.
He made Antoinette as comfortable
as circumstances would admit Of,
with their travelling bags and rugs to
lean against, and seated himself be-
| side her.
Goucy appeared to be a much larg-
er place than Arthur had anticipated,
and he leaned forward, looking about
him with eager curiosity as they
threaded the steep, narrow streets.
The driver cracked his whip loudly
and used it Justify, with many an odd
gutteral noise, to make his lean
beast go showily through the streets
and sweep DANGEROUSLY round the cor
ner into the Grande Place.
This was a square of some preten-
sions, fanked by the Church and Ho-
tel de Vile. Trees were planted
round it, and carefully pruned into
the conventional green wigs so dear
to French landscape gardeners, and
little tables and innumerable painted
iron chairs were set out under them.
There is La Pie Blanche " said
the driver, whose name he told them
was Mounier. All les Messieurs' Of
the town dine there daily at table
d'hote. And yonder, Mademoiselle,
do you remember that house?"
Yes" said Antoinette, II fancy I
do. What a picturesque old house.
Could it have been there my grand
father lived?"
"Maison Rouge, yes. The Doctor
Aymar lived there, and your sainted
mother was born there. Heaven rest
her SOUL"
Now they dashed through the Place
with a grand show and clatter and
began to leave the town behind them.
Once out of the streets, Mounier
pulled up his horse and allowed it to
subside into a slow, heavy trot.
The road seemed interminable, for
the settled trot of the white mare was
little faster than the walk of most
horses, a slow heavy jog.
Arthur turned round presently to
address his companion and was
| shocked to see how pale she had be-
! come, and how she was s%hivering
from time to time.
Nu-.. o-o ,l;11oJ ~ Lo cotl onvin1,c-
ly. 1T is this miserable cart. How
| wish I could do more for you" He
unfolded the rug on her knees and
tried to envelop her more completely
in it.
"Mademoiselle Rigaud, Antoinette,'
he said, eagerly, "for Heavens sake
do not look so sad and so frightened.
What is there to dread? On the con-
trary, you will have nothing to an
ticipate but what is pleasant. 1t will
be a great pleasure to you to make
your father perfectly happy by your
love and care, and l have not the
slightest doubt that you will find him
most gentle and amiable to you in
every way"
Il am very foolish" she said, sit
ting upright and trying to smile. But
do not imagine that my foolish fears
have anything to do with my father.
1t is the atmosphere of this country.
1t is Do you believe in PRESENT.
ments?"
Il believe in nervous Fears he
answered, gayly. With any one else
he might perhaps have lost patience,
for a continuance Of feelings which