The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1908-01-16

our neighbors' compartment. AS
lowered the window. two arms seized
me and a voice broken with anguish
but which sounded very sweet,
Just the same--gasped behind me:
Phillip, II you love me, do not
go. They will kill youl'
II was precisely like the fourth act
OF "The Huguenots," except that my
name is not Raoul.
/ saw the advantage OF my situa.
ton, and ] resolved to profit by It.
I profited by II SO we'll that, after a
dialogue too intimate to be repeated
here. I was in a position to sing
IL ] had voice, which l haven't
"Thou-ou ha-ast said IT,"
For she had said IL. Poor Charles
was distanced now. She had said
the sweet words: II love you"
A prey to emotions bordering on
the hysterical Clarisse sobbed and
clung to me with all her strength,
though had not the faintest desire
to intrude on the massacre next door.
They could kill themselves at their
ease. Let every man tend to his own
affairs. AS for me, was very much
occupied just then.
That is why, early the next morn
ing, hurried to my lawyer to speak
to him about the little hotel In the
Avenue Friedland, which was still
for sale, but thank fortune. is now
no. longer in the market. Decorators
and furnishers are at work in 1t, and
when January comes, you will see It
occupied by certain young couple
that know OF.
But let us not anticipate. When
the train pulled into the city, my
companion and l had quite forgotten
our neighbors, or what was left of
them; but now the authorities must
be Informed and the bodies removed.
1 had jumped out, and was looking
about for sergeant de Vile, when !
beheld the door of the famous COM
partment open and the three hunters
calmly descend from 1t, carrying,
rolled up in rug, an inert mass
which looked as II it might be the
body of young child. without an
instant's hesitation, I seized one of
the assassins by the collar.
"Scoundrel!" cried. What have
you got in that rug?"
Don't make such a row." he re-
piled, cor we'll have a hundred peo-
pie at our backs. 1t is only my poor
dog"
"Dog!" I repeated, indignant at
the mans GOODNESS. "Come, come,
you can not deceive me, 1 saw it all"
My captive, whom l still held by
the collar, opened corner of the
rug and showed me a settlers muz-
zle, with flecks of foam on 1t dappled
with blood. 1 dropped my hold on
the mans collar in the greatest con-
| fusion.
Really. I scarcely know how to
apologize" I said. But, frankly, it
is not astonishing that I should have
been deceived--three men crouching
on the seats Of the carriage and
Shooting"
Still, the explanation is very
simple. My dog was bitten three
| weeks ago. ] had the wound cauter-
| lied, and thought the animal was
saved. We had been hunting all day
near Creil, but, no sooner were we
on the train than hydrophobia devel-
oped and the animal began to snap at
us. To attempt to put the beast out
was to tempt death, and there was
nothing for 1t but for us to climb up
on the seats and shoot the dog. We
were not able to do so until after
we left Chantilly, for the poor brute
had taken refuge under the seat.
Finally, by calling 1t, persuaded 1t
to put its head out, and then we shot
1t. tell, you it's a trip shall not
soon forget"
Nor shall l." I replied, and I re-
Joined Clarisse, who was waiting for
me at a little distance and whose
curiosity was vastly excited to see
me thus politely take leave of the
assassins.
| We'll, then," she said, making a
little face when l had told her the
story, that doesn't count. 1 take
back what l said"
But at the same time she softly
squeezed my arm with her own, and
saw in her eyes that "that" did
count. TRANSLATED for the Argo-
naut, from the French of Leon de
Tinseau.