The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-07-26


 ing Christians royal cipher. They were
 addressed to Colette; and the general
 discovered that Christian, for whom he
 was about to ruin himself and for
 whom Herbert had died had betrayed
 and shamed them. The old man
 stretched out his hand to take two
 weapons from the wall. But he stopped.
 It was the Kingl One does not demand 1 right conduct from his King! He de- i stroyed the letters and paid the notes,
 returning to Saint Mande quite poor
 and forsak en to continue silently in his
 duties as manager of the royal house. l hold.
 Abandoning the former King to his own low devices, the Queen centered all her mind on Zara; and under the
 guiding genius of Elysee the boys
 mind broadened and grew regal so that ] Meraut looked joyfully on him and said l that at last he was making a true King.
 Then one day while the lad was at target practice he asked his tutor to try the rifle. The bullet reboundsi rom the iron bar and destroyed one of Zara's eyes. In her grief and anger the Queen drove Meraut away. Be- gone! Begone!" she cried. May never see thee againm In that moment every one who heard her realized that she was punishing and cursing herself by confessing before them all. It was her love that she flung into Meraut's face like an insult"
 
 And Meraut-Meraut, who had loved the Queen for more than a year, but had never dreamed of raising his eyes to her even Meraut knew in that instant But his woe over the disaster to the young King crushed his woe over his own tragedy.
 Little Zara lay for many months in a darkened room, from which the Queen never stirred. Christian came in and out, appalled, but helpless. Lurking in the shrubbery outside of the grounds Elysee spent all of his days and most of his nights, to snatch bits of news brought to him by the servants.
 At last the doctors declared that the little Prince would lose the sight of his other eye if the destroyed one were not removed. They urged the Queen to con- sent to an operation. Suspicious of their
 
 | with Zara, keeping her name and station | secret and asked his advice. The great surgeon examined the lad. 1 Madam said he, your child Is indeed l threatened with the loss of sight. And 1 yet if he were my own son, l would not 1 operate on him. l find shattered con- I stitution. There is the most vicious, most exhausted and the poorest blood!
 ''The blood of Kings!' exclaimed the 1 Queen, overcome by her destiny at last. 1 And to think that they have been ad- vising this operation, though they knew | it would cost him his life? In month l they expect the Diet of Illyria to invite us home again. They want to have King 1 to show to the people. But they do not want a blind King; so at the risk of killing him, they would perform this op- eration. Poor little Zara! What matters it whether he reign or not? Let him live, | let him nve!
 ! Frederioue Is the ambitious Queen no l longer but only mother, who holds her 1 darling fiercely to her breast and Tn whose sight the crown suddenly sinks away to | nothing. u l able to go out again he resumed ms oIu life in the Latin Quarter and went 1 back to his old shabby room. Soon ms l tall. ungainly figure was seen With book under his arm and with gesticu- l lating hands as he talked. He walked | about in disdainful sorrow, which was l too great and deep to be understood. In cold and rain he stood. oblivious or 1 the weather.
 One day he felt terrible burning | sensation which rose from his chest l like a sense of annihilation and filled his mouth instantly with blood. He was not frightened, though 1t was 1 so mysterious and horrible. What ,s the matter with mel" he asked some or his medical friends in the cafe, de- , scribing his symptoms. "Everything," said they. A few days afterward Father Alphee said to the Queen: Monsieur Meraut IS dying" She made no reply. Elysee Meraut lay in his bed in his shabby room. On the bare, dingy walls there was only one ornament--the pie ture of the Bourbon with it's motto. "Faith. Hope" He looked at it, and his childhood f1oated once more before his memory, which was already fad ing.
 Tn ere is the rustic of dress. A voice says: "How do you do. Monsieur Ely seer" It is his pupil, looking at h.m with the shy, awkward glance which his infirmity has made habitual. yelled lady stands proud and erect against the door. Without coming any nearer herself, she sends her pardon by the hands of the child, and that hand Elysee Meraut takes and presses to hts lips Then, turning to the august fig- ure on the threshold. he says for the last time, with his last breath, Long live the King"
 Next Sundays one-Page Classic will be "The Story of Little Muk " by Wn-