The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1909-01-21
The Crime OF s'sz;:;: q: !,
& id. GhAe Boulevard

somber-held me in his arms and burs
INTO tears. His embrace was that of
nan who concentrates in one being al
that remains of hope.
Thou-thou are here" he said In {
low one. If thou llnewest!'
II was moved to the depths OF my
heart. That manly face, usually so en-.
ergetic, wore an expression OF terror
which was in some way almost child
ish, a, tinlorous fright. The tears rose
in his eyes.
oh, how I have waited for thee
now | have longed for thee!'
II repeated his phrase with anx-
louS obstinacy. Then he seemed to be
suffocating. Elnotion. The sight OF
me recalled to him the long agony OF
that night when he thought that he
was about to die without parting with
me for the last time.
For what / have to tell thee
Fl shook his head.
1t is the secret of my life
ne was lying on a sort of sick chair
or lounge in the library where he
passed his last days with his books.
He made me sit down beside him. He
took my hand and said:
L am going to die. / believed that
the end had come last night. 1 called
thee. oh, well, il I had died there is
one being In the world who would not
nave had the fortune which, have
Fl lowered his voice as if he
hought we We're spied upon, as If
someone could hear.
have a daughter. Yes, even from
thee | have hidden this secret, which
fortunes me. A daughter who loves me
ana who has not the right to confess
this tenderness no more thar I have
the right to give her my name. All.
our youth, sad YOUTH | might have
mad a home today, a fireside of my own.
a dear one near me, and instead of that
an n fPnnEjnr- ~f rt,,l r - Il
and which l have hidden even from
thee, J-acques-from thee, dost thou
comprehend
i remember each of Rovere's words
as II l was hearing them now. This
conversation with my Door friend is
among the most poignant yet most pre-
c1ous OF my renembrances. With much
emotion, which distressed me, the poor
man revealed to me the secret which he
had believed 1t his duty to hide from
me so many years, and I vowed to him
Il swore to him on my honor, and thai
Is why l hesitated to speak or rather
refused to speak, not wishing to COM
promise anyone neither the dead nor
hVingI swore to him, NJ. Ie Juge, to
repeat nothing of what he told me to
anyone, to anyone but to her
'Her?' Intercepted M. Ginory.
His daughter Dantin replied.
Inc examining magistrate recalled
thai visitor in black who had been seen
occasionally at Rovere's apartments
and the little romance of which Paul
Rodfer a written in his paper-the
romance of the woman In black.
And this daughter?"
She bears" said Dantin, with a dis
couraged gesture, the name OF tie
father which h law gives her, and
this name Is a great name, an Illus
trlous name, that of a retired general
officer living In one of the provinces. a 4
widower, and who adores the girl who
Is another mans child. The mother is |
a The father has never been
When dying, the mother re-
vealed the secret to the daughter. She
came, by command OF the dead, to see
RoVere but as a sister of charity,
to the name which she bears.
She does not wish to marry. She will
never leave the crippled old soldier
who calls her his daughter and who
her"
Obi" said Nj. Gfnory. remaininp
mute a moment before this very simple
and in which, in that moment
reflection he com~prehended, he an
alyzed, nearly all Of the hidden sriefs.
the secret tears. the stihed sobs the |
stolen Kisses. And that rs why you'll
kept silent?" he asked.
Yes, monsieur. Oh, but I could not
endure h torture any longer, and not
seeing n expected release any nearer
l would have spoken-I would have |
spoken to escape thai cell, that sense |
OF s~uffocation, / endured there. It
seemed to me. however, that I owed 1t
my dead friend not to reveal his Sc
cret to anyone, not even to you. I shall |
eve forget Rovere's Joy when. re-
OF the burden by the confidence
he had exposed in me, he said
me that, now that she who was hisl
dnughter and was poor, living at Blois
MY on the pension of a retired officer
TO whom She had appointed herself
nurse, knowing that she was not his
daughter, this innocen child, who has
with a life OF devotion for tina
sins of two guilty ones, would at least
happiness at last.
She is young and the one for whom
she cares cannot live always. MY for
tune will give her a dowry. And theni'
1t was to me to whom he confided
this fortune. He IA very little money
with his notary. Erratic and distrust-l
ful. Revere kept his valuables In his |
safe, as he kept his books in his library.
1t seemed hat he was q collector. pick
UP all kinds of things. Avaricious?
No, but he wished to have about him.
under his hand, everything which be-
to him. He possibly may have
to give what he had directly to
the n whom 1t seemed good to him
give 1t and contide it to me in !
trust.
\ regret not having asked him di-
rcctly that day what he counted on do
with his fortune and how he IN
%enriching his child whom he |
had not the right to recognize. / dared
not or, rather, i did not, think OF 1t.
experienced a strong emotion when /
my friend enfeebled and almost
dying. I had known him SO different.
SO handsome. Oh. those poor, sad,
eyes, that lowered voice. as lie
he feared an enemy was listening! Ill
had quickly, brutally changed that
vigorous man, suddenly old and titnor-
Gus.
II went away from that frst inter
view much distressed. carrying a se-
which seemed to me o. heavy and
cruel one and which made me think OF
the uselessness, the ~wickedness. the
vain loves of a ruined life. But felt
that Revere owed truly his fortune to
girl%who, the next day after the
death OF the one whom she had
pionsly attended, found herself poor
and isolated In u little hanse in q steep
street, near the chateau. above Blois,
4 felt that whatever this unknown ia
left ought motto go TO distant
who cared nothing for him.
did not even kn0w him, were ignor-
ant sof his sufferings and perhaps even