The Montgomery advertiser., 1908-07-26

tAAOHC III Ntic A<2bth &h0htCtf These were the only places then where opposition could be expressed. when the books and journals were under the ban of the Government Every cafe had It's orator and It's great mean. In. deed. all the learned and eloquent youth went here to repeat he fine political and philosophical discussions of the beer taverns of Bonn and Heidelberg.
 Tn the noisy forge of ideas the tall Gascon. who was always inspired and whose convictions were cs oId-fash- toned as antiquarian objects in that modern Paris, became famous quickly. Here Is Merautr the crowd would exclainl when they saw the tall, un- gainly figure. with a book or review under his arm. And Meraut would toss back his inextricable tangle of black hair surrounded by broad white tuft. peer forward with his haggard near-sighted eyes and begin to ges- ticulate while the young men pressed around him.
 Come in quicklyp' We have Mon. sier Meraut herep the lady at the cafe counter would say proudly to ali who entered. The parties at dominoes stopped. The billiard players leaned over the stairs. Being without intrigue or personal ambition, Eiysee con sdered himself the apostle of his faith and threw himself into the indefatig- able work of the missionary.
 The years came and passed almost unnoticed to this man of the rapt dream and the splendid vision. He lived hard and sparsely earning enough to Keep himself in a shabby room and in shabby clothes by giving lessons. Thus for eigtheen years he sowed ideas among the young men of Paris. Many who reached high positions carefully gathered for their own glory the crumbs that the singular fellow drop- ped carelessly from his table. Meraut knew 1t. When he found one of his ideas repeated by a distinguished gen. tleman he felt the disinterested happi- ness of a father who sees hs daughters well married yet has no desire to claim them.
 It was the chivalric self-deniai of the old weaver-the old man who sang in his loudest tones: Long live Henry the Fourth!' when he lay dying.
 This was Elysee Meraut when the world was thrilled by the heroic de- fense of Ragusa by the King and Queen of Iilyria and Dalmatia after their people had risen In revolt against them. He devoured all the news-how the in- solent crowds cried for her life under the Queens window at Laybach; how the council mad with fear, begged the King to abdicate. only to be met with a refusal; how the royal couple with the young heir to the throne fled across the mountains at night disguised as peasants, and how at last, having shut themselves up in Ragusa. they defend- ed the place for two months, besfeged by the nation in arms outside and as- sailed by hunger, illness and despair fnsde.
 when at last they escaped and suc- ceeded in taking ship for France Ely see Meraut was foremost in the crowd that assembled around the hotel where the exiled couple had taken refuge. When they came out on the balcony he saw a slender. frail man with a dull complexion, black curly hair and . meagre mustache which he twirle6 continually. His eyes were handsome and irresolute. That was the King.
 His Queen was tall, 1.-the. beautiful Dalmatian, with an extraordinary bril- liance of complexion and superb hair of Venetian blonde. Her eyes were sad and serious. She looked down at the crowd with naughty pride.
 Their son was tiny, weak little creature, five or six years old, with sharp, marked features and light color hair. For him exile opened happily He was enlivened by being relieved of the childish fear of the cannon. The King, too, seemed decideiy gay. He look ed with keen interest at the busy street.
 While they stood thus Elysee Meraut suddenly swung himself to the fence opposite the hotel and waved his hat. crying; Long live the King!" The Queen looked gratefully downward at this unknown friend in republican Paris. The salutation, of which she had been deprived so long. warmed her to the heart, and the cheering reaction was completed by the appearance of another evidence of loyalty in the per- son of General the Duke of Rosen.
 The Duke of Rosen, the conqueror at Mostar and Livno and the hero of the great Montenegrin wars, had been away from Illyria for three years ever since the King had removed him from his place as chief of the military serv- ice to give 1t to Liberal.
 Surely the old chief of pandours had the right to be aggrteved at Christian. who had sacrificed him coldly and had permitted him to depart without a word of regret or farewell Yet here he was, standing erect and stiff. but waiting with so much emotion for the favor of a welcome that one could see his limbs quiver and note the quick heaving of his broad chest.
 He knelt to his Queen and Kissed her hand
 "Ah. my poor Rosen! My poor Ro- senF' she murmured, and slowly closed her eyes that none should see the tears in them. But all those she had shed ia years had left their traces.
 How she has suneredr thought the General Then, to conceal his emo ton. he called. "colettel Hubertl Come here and salute your Queen!"
 Prince Herbert de Rosen, who had lean jaws like those of horse and in- nocent, babyish cheeks. advanced, fol- lowed by his wife. whom King Chris tian observed with interest. He twirl- ed his mustache and watched her cu- riously the little Parisian bird of made up of aInass of overskirts and tounces.
 "where did that devil of a Herbert get such Jewel2" he said to himself, enyying the playmate of his child hood.
 It was a great satisfaction to him when old Rosen begged that he might be permitted to take charge of the royal household, and offered his son as wife as lady-in-waiting to the Queen.
 You shall show me Parisian pleas ures," said the King to Herbert, when they were alone on the balcony after dinner. As soon as possible the two managed to slip away. When they had strolled few squares the King of H. lyria called a cab triumphantly and or- dered the coaohman to drive them to famous all-night resort.
 While the monarch was thus soften- ing the rigors of his exile, the tall. hrOvyn Iaan Fra ncfRcan monk who offl-