Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1911-01-17

manned there for a week OF u month.
And they were lean men. battle-scarred
and fierce of eye, some With armless
sleeves, some with stiff legs, some
twisted with rheumatism. All spoke
French, and spat whenever they saw
tho per1dious flag OF old England. This
was not marked against them "a a de-
merit, for the War of 1912 was yet
smoking here and there along the Great
Lakes. Suddenly. they would up and
away, and the manor would reassume
Its repellent a%loofness. Each time they
returned their number was diminished
Old age had succeeded war as a har-
vester. In 1922, the mysterious old re-
cluse surrendered the ghost. His heirs
ignored and hated by him for their
utilization with the Bourbons-sold Il to
the fother of the admiral.
The manor wasn't haunted. The
hard-headed longshoremen and sailors
who lived at the foot OF the hill were
q practical people, to whom spirits
were something mostly and generally
put up in bottles. and emptied on sun
less, blustery days. Still. they wouldn't
have been human II they had not done
sons Tomanoing.
There we're q dozen yarns. each at
variance with the other. First, the old
'monseer'' was a fugitive from France;
everybody granted that. Second, that
he had helped to cut off King Louis's
head; but nobody could prove that.
Third, that hs was a retired pirate;
but retired pirates always wound up
their days in riotous living, so this
theory died. Fourth, that he had been
a great soldier in h Napoleonic wars
and this version had some basis.
els the old mans face was slashed and
cut, some of his fingers were missing,
and he limped. Again, he had been
banished from France for . share in
the Hundred Days; but, all told, moth
ing was proved conclusively, though
the villagers burrowed and delved and
hunted and prled, as villagers are prone
10 do when Il person appears among
them and keeps his affairs strictly TO
himself.
But the next generation partly for
got, and the present only indifferently
remembered that. nee upon a time. a
French emigre had lived and died up
there. They knew all there was TO
know about the present owner 1t was
all eompactly written and pictured in
q book OF history, which book agents
sold over the land. even here in Dalton.
All these things Fitzgerald and his
companion learned from the driver on
tho Journey up the incline.
Where was this Frenchman buried? p"
inquired Breitmann softly.
I'm tn cemet'ry jest over tn hill, but
nobody knows jest whore he is now.
stones gone. an tn grounds all Level
that end. Ho WIS on'y a Trenchmani
but tn admiral, now you're talkin'! He
pays cash, an don't make no bargain
rates, when he wants e job done. Go
wan, y OF nag: what y dreamin' off,
There might be history in that cor
ner of the graveyard" said Breitmann
who knows2 Good many strange
bits OF furniture foVnt>-their way over
here during those tremendous times
Beautiful place in the daytime, eh?'
Fitzgerald added, with an inclination
toward The Pines.
More like an Italian villa than al
Englishman's home. Good gardeners
I should say"
Culture and money will make q BOG
attractive"
rs tho admiral cultured. them"
IT should imagine SO; but l am sure
tho daughter is. Not that veneer which
passes for, II. hut that deep inner culi