The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-12-09

stronger Iulu I. 70 Inlnk Indt | dD going to sCS the parior-whtre she waited for me. had been living only in the hope of seeing her. and after she had gene 1 fell into such a de- spondent state that after each of her visits they feared for my health. So from one visit to another 1 had her memory and her perfume to comfort me. Never having seen her dear face distinctly. lived less with her image than with the heavenly odor. The perfume which she always used and which was indissolubly associated in my mind with her was the most sub tie and the sweetest Odor l have ever known. and 1 never breathed it again in all the years which followed until the day we first went to the Glan- dier."
 You mean the day that you met Mathilde Stangerson"
 That is what l mean" responded the lad in a trembling voice.
 (Ah. if had known at that moment that Professor Stangerson's daughter as the result of her first marriage in America had had a child. a son. who would have been if he had lived the same age as Rouletabille. perhaps 1 would have at last comprehended his emotion and grief and the strange re- luctance which he showed to pro- nounce the name of MathiIde Stanger- son there at the school to which in the past had come so often the Lady in BlackD
 And you have never known why the Lady in Black did not returnY" 1 asked.
 -she did rerurn| be cried. But I ran away"
 "Why-to look for herT
 No. no-to flee from her."
 ''She may have been broken hearted at not finding you.'
 RouIetabille raised his arms toward the sky and shook his head
 How can l know? What an unhap- py wretch am. Hush. Sainciair: Here comes Pere Simon. Now he's gone again. Quick-to the parior!'
 As we entered the room his face be- came flushed. he advanced with short steps. turned to me and said in low tones:
 "Oh. Sainclair. this is it-the parlor. Feel how my bands burn. My face is flushed. is 1t not! 1 was always tiusn- ed when 1 came here. knowing that should find her. l used to run. 1 felt smothered. l do now. I was not able to walt. Oh. my heart beats just as 1t did when 1 was little lad. 1 would come to the door-right here-and then l would pause. bashful and shame faced. But 1 would see her dark shadow in the corner. She would take me in her arms and hold me there in silence. and before we knew 1t we were both weeping as we cIung to- gether. How dear those meetings were. She was my mother. Sainciair Oh. she never told me so. On the con- trary. she used to say that my mother was dead aud that she had been her friend But she told me to call her mamma. and when she wept as kissed her I knew that she really WAS my mother"
 The poor lad could no longer contain himself He rested his arms ou the mantel and wept like little child.
 l saw him draw forth the letter which he had placed there in the train and tear it open. His hand fell. and he uttered groan. His flushed face grew pallid.. 1t seemed as though every drop of blood had left his heart. Finally his feat lures took on the sereui- ty which comes from assurance of vic tory.
 We must go now. Sainclair.'
 And he left the parlor without even looking back. 1 followed. In the de- serted street I stopped him by asking anxiously:
 Well did you find the perfume ot the Lady In BIack?'
 -Yes." he said. very gravely-'yes, Sainclair. 1 found it," And he hand ed me the letter from Professor Stan gerson's daughter.
 1 looked at him. doubting the evil dence of my own senses. not under standing. because l knew nothing. Theu be took my two hands and look ed into my eyes.
 "l am going to confide a secret to you. Sainclair-the secret of my life and perhaps some day the secret of my death. Let what will come. 1t : must die with you and me. Mathilde I Stangerson had a cniId-a son. He is | dead-is drad 10 every one except to the two of us who stand here"
 l recoiled. struck with horror under 1 such a revelation. RouIeta bile the son | of Mathilde Stangerson. In that case | Rouletabille must be the son of Lar | san-
 Oh. I understood now all the wretch |