Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-03-11
THE AMERICAN COUNTESS
By ETA w. PIERCE.
CHAPTER XXI.
The Tempest Breaks.

The Tempest Breaks.
One fine morning, at a certain Amer
lean banking house In the Rue Scrioe
Paris, knots of people were assembled
mostly Americans, discussing VIII
grave voices and serious faces.
strange and startling piece Of home
news. More than one blanched lip II
the assembly revealed a tale OF per
sonal loss and despair. A great ca
lamity had burst upon them like
thunderbolt from a clear sky. A huge
colossus had fallen in the financia
world, and buried many In his hope
less ruin.
'By Jove! it's incredible" said Ar:
chic Van Dorm. Everybody supposed
the man to be new King Midas
Wonder what Count Stahl will say tc
this unexpected turn Of affairs"
'If the truth was known" sneerec
another voice, you would find thai
monsieur the count Is at the bottom o.
the whole matter. Cullen Sardis paic
too high a price for his titled son-in.
law. should say his actual wortf
was something less than bad sou
and Sardis has given tens OF thous.
ands Of gold dollars for him. The
counts establishment here in Paris
table and upon Mademoiselle Nicole
of the Varieties Theatre, are enough
to ruin a half dozen rich fathers-ln-
law"
81 pity the young countess" remark
ed another; "the blow will fall heavily
upon her, for she is a perfect child OF
luxury. I attended a ball which sne
gave last winter, where the guests ap-
peared to be sitting in groves OF white
lilac and camellias, where the orches-
ira was completely concealed In now
ers, and a chorus Of trained voices ac-
companied the stringed instruments
and where supper was served IN gal-
lery hung with Gobelins and other
costly tapestries-a supper fit for a
royal palace. The Paris papers an
nounced next morning that the straw.
berries alone cost fifteen thousand
francs"
VANITY of vanities-aH Is vanity!'.
sighed Van Dorm. I'm a hundred
thousand out-I think I'll go back &c
New York"
Meanwhile, In the stately white
streets Of the vivedly colored city with
out the day was warm and fair. People
clustered about the sparkling shops
and drank mild liquors In front OF the
cafes. In the Bois de Boulogne the
sun shone brightly down on the plus
lakes and the green, rustling fonaSe
A soft wind sighed in the horse-chest-
nut trees; the Arc de Triomphe gleam-
ed white in the background. Troops
of cavaliers, gayly attired officers, and
countless carriages moved hither AND
thither. Among the latter was nght
Victoria, In which a beautiful, pale
woman, in an enchanting costume, was
taking her daily airing alone. The
Countess Stahl.
I'M news travels fast. Was 1t fancy
or did the Americans who passed her
on the drive stare before, and then
turn Immediately to speak with eacn
other? What could 1t mean? Etnel
felt uneasy and depressed; she was
out of spirits this morning-indeed she
was often out Of spirits. For two years
she had been feted, f1attered, praised
and welcomed everywhere as the So
cial success of Paris; for two years
she had worn a title, and turned Sc
rene face to the world, and in secret
wept tears Of unspeakable anguish and
humiliation; and now she began with
dismay to realize that her powers OF
endurance were growing weak-that II
was impossible for her to live this life
much longer. Then she looked up, and
saw a horseman approaching her car
riage-a big, broad-shouldered, red
haired fellow, mounted upon supern
beast, which he rode with great ease
and grace-that ugly young English
baronet, Sir Valentine Arbuckle.
He lifted his hat, and gazed at the
beautiful woman in the Victoria WITT
such earnest, plying eyes, that, ir
spite of all her self-control, the blood
rushed tumultously to her cheek. How
dared he! Had she reached such
pass that she must submit to compass
sion from strangers? Were her sor.
rows known to all the world? Th'
light faded suddenly from the lake:
and the green trees OF the Bois. A
heavy cloud fell upon Ethers heart
The staring faces on every side MADE
her shiver. She spoke few words te
her driver, and the next moment the
carriage was rolling away toward th'
Avenupe de rImperatrice.
She entered her own salon with
feeling of strange, unpleasant expec
tation.
Has anything happened?" she sait
to Finette, who came forward TO ms
her mistress.
Nothing, madame"
Ethel looked around the room. l
was empty. The glass door stood open
the little garden beyond looked greer
and dewy and still. Doves fiutteret
about in the sunshine.
The countess sank into seat.
Madame, you are i'll! Let me brint
you a glass of wine," urged Finette.
The brown Frenchwoman had nov
been in the countess employ for
week, but she had not yet met th'
count. Finette had her own privat
reasons for avoiding Ethels husband
mo, I am not ill-only little dull
Finette," answered her mistress, list
lessly. Where is monsieur"
Il know not, madame. He went ou
an hour or two ago."
Leave me now, Finette.'
The waiting maid vanished. Ethe
sat looking out into the little garden
oppressed with an indeflnable fear o
coming evil. A tiny silver basket on
table near her held cards of invitation
for the day-a dinner with a duchess
in the Faubourg Saint Germain: bal
at the American minister's; recep
ton at
The door flew back suddenly, ant
Count Stahl entered. 1t was unusua
to see him in his wife's salon at thi
hour of the day. Ethel withdrew he
eyes from the doves and the garden
and turned to meet him in cold sur
prise.
His face was like chalk: the nostril
were pinched and bloodless; the jaw
looked heavy and livid. Under tn
sleepy droop Of the lids red fire burn
ed in his eyes. He crossed the salo
with noiseless speed, and stopped Il
front Of his wife.
Madame! For weeks We have bee
expecting money from monsieur you
father, have we not? We have locke
for II daily-we have experienced grea
inconvenience because of it's non-ar
rival-we have thought the delay ex
ceedingly strange" :,
With eyes fastened on his diaboli
face, she answered, mechanically:
Yes"
Madame. 1 bring you the solutio
Of the mystery-I bring you news o
monsieur, your rich and honored faith
er. l have just come from the Ameri
can banking house in the Rue Scribe
and nothing else is being talked o
there"
Instinctively she stood up, as slir
and rigid as a column, look Of drea
expectance on her blanched face.
What do you mean?" she said
what has happened?"
He grasped her wrists with cruel vic
,,rL, Los boDDaped poodom me-vO