Kingsbury County independent. (DeSmet, Kingsbury County, S.D.) 1894-1929, 1909-01-22
A p Ky.

which one could NOT break--tne per
ception OF q possibility entered tn
magistrates mind that this man Nigh
be sincere. Hitherto he had closed nj
heart against sympathy for this man
They had met in mutual hostility.
The manner in which Jacques Dan
tin approached the question, the reso'
luton with which he spoke, no longel
resembled the obstinate attitude whici
ne had before assumed In this sam
room.
Reflection, the prison-the cell, with
out doubt--a frightful and sitting eel
had done it's work. The man who
had been excited to the point of not
speaking now wished to tell all.
Yes he said, "since nothing has
happened TO convince you that am
Tot lying"
Il am listening to YOU said the
magistrate.
Then in a long, close conference
Jacques Dantin told NJ. Ginory his
story. He related how from early
youth he and Revere had been close
friends; OF the warm affection which
had always existed between them; OF
the shams and receptions of which he
had been guilty; Of the bitterness of
his ruined life; of an existence which
ought to have been beautiful, and
which, so useless, h life of a viveur,
had almost made him-why?-how?--
thrc ugh heed of money and a lack Of
moral sense, descend to crime.
This Revere, whom he was accused
Of killing, he loved, and, TO tell the
truth, In that strange n troublous ex-
istence which he had lived Revere had
been tho only true friend whom he had
known. Revere, q sort OF pessimistic
philosopher, q recluse, lycanthrOpic,
after a life spent in feasting, having
surfeited himself with pleasure, recog-
nized also In his last years that disin
terested affection Is rare in this world
and his savage misanthropy softened
before jacques Dantin's warm friend
ship. He continued to search for In what
Is called pleasure and what as ones hair
whitens becomes vice, In play, in the
uproad of Paris, forgetfulnesS of life, OF
the dull life OF a man growing old,
alone, without home or family. an old,
stupid fellow, whom the young people
look at with hate and say to each other.
Why is he still here? Revere more
and more felt the need of withdraw
Ing into solitude, thinking over his
adventurous life, as bad and as ruined
as mine, n he wished TO see no one
q wolf, a wild boar in his lair. Can you
understand this friendship between
two old fellows, n OF whom tried in
every way 10 direct his thoughts from
himself and the other waiting death in
- fCA - ass HhN'A1Rs va
s~ociabIe2"
Perfectly. Go on"
And the magistrate, with eyes rivet-
ed upon jacques Dantin, saw this IA
excited, making light OF this recital OF
the past, evoking remembrances of for
gotten events, Of this lost affection
lost, as all his life was.
This Is not a conference. Is II not
so? You no longer believe hat IL Is a
comedy? l loved Revere. Life had
often separated us. He searched for
at. the other end OF the world.
4 made q mess OF mine and ate 1t in
Paris. But we always kept up our re-
lations, and when he returned to
France we We're happy in again seeing
other. The grayer turned the
hair, the more tender the heart became.
1 had always found him m~orose-from
his twentieth year he always dragged
him a sinister companion-ennui.
he q chosen a consular career, to
live far away and in a fashion not at
all like ours. l nave often laughingly
to him that he probably had met
with unreauited love; that he had ex-
perienced some unhappy passion. He
said mol ! feigned to believe 1t. One
Is not somber and melancholy like that
without some secret grief. After all,
there are others who do not feel any
gayer with a smile on the lips. Sad
ness Is no sign. Neither is gayety!"
His face took on a weary, melan-
choiy expression. which at first aston
the magistrate; then he expert
eneed q feeling of pity. He listened,
silent and grave.
Il win pass over all the details of
life, shall l not? My monologue
would be too long. The years of youth
raised with q rapidity truly astonish-
Ing. We come to the time when we
found ourselves-he, weary OF life, es-
tablished in his chosen apartments In
the Boulevard de Clichy. with his
PAINTINGS and books. sitting In front of
his fire and awaiting death, / c%ontinu-
to spur myself on like a foundered
horse. Revere moralized 10 me, L
ieered at his sermons. and / went to sit
his freside and talk over the past.
of his Joys had been this portrait
OF me, painted by Paul Baudry. He
had hung it up in his salon. at the
corner OF the chimney piece, at the left,
and he often said to me:
"tDOst thou know that when thou
are not here / talk to it?'
Il was not there very often. Pari-
sian life draws US by it's thousand at
fractions. The days which seem In
terminable when one is 20 rush by as
ii on wings when one is 80. One has
even time to stop TO see the friends
one loves. AT the last moment, II one
is right, one ought to say; How /
have cast TO the winds everything pre-
cious which life has given me. How
l have been-how stupid Pay
attention to my philosophims-the
cell. Mazas forces IA to- think.
zone day-it was n morntng-on
returning from the club where | had
the night stupidity losing sums
which would nave given joy TO hun
Of families, / found IN my desk
a message from Revere. IL one would
look through my papers n would
md 1t there. I kept it. Revere begged
TO come to him immediately,
shivered-a sharp presentiment OF
struck me. The writing was
trembling, unlike his own l struck
INV forehead in anger. This message
been waiting for me since the
night before. while l vas spending The
hours In gambling. III. when ! hurried
toward the Boulevard de Clichy. I had
found Revere dead on my arrival. l
could not. believe me-, have experienced
greater despair. His assassination
seemed to me atrocious. hut l was at
least able TO assure him that his friend
ship was returned. ! hastily read the
telegram. threw myself into a nacre
and hastened to his apartments. The
Woman who acted as -hpusekeeper for
him. Nine. Moniche. the Fortress rails
ing her arms as she opened the door
for me, saide
fsAh, monsieur, but monsieur has
waited for you. He has repeated your