Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-05-20

covered with brush. with 1allen rockS
and with great trees, shut in this Ia
mentally sad ravine like two sombrt
walls.
Around the cottage were some
vines, a large garden, and, farther off
several large chestnut enough
to live on; in fact, fortune for this
poor country.
"The woman who received me was
old, severe and neat-exceptionallJ
so. The man seated on {. straw chair
rose to salute me, then sat down again
without saying a word. His compan-
ion said to me:
Excuse him; he is deaf now. He
is eighty-two years old
"She spoke the French Of France
l was surprised.
"I asked her:
"'You are not of Corsica?'
"She answered.:
"No; we are from the Continent
But we have lived here now fifty
YEARS
"a feeling of anguish and Of fear
seized me as the thought Of those af-
ty years passed in this gloomy hole,
so far from the cities where human
beings dwell. An old shepherd return
ed, and we began to eat the only dish
there was for dinner, a thick soup In
which potatoes, lard and cabbages
had been boiled together.
when the short repast was finished
I went and sat down before the door,
my heart pinched by the melancholy
of the mournful landscape, wrung by
that distress which sometimes seizes
travellers on certain sad evenings, In
certain desolate places. 1t seems that
everything Is near it's ending-exis-
tence and the universe itself. You
perceive sharply the dreadful misery
Of life, the isolation of every one, the
nothingness Of all things, and the
black loneliness of the heart which
nurses itself and deceives itself with
dreams until the hour Of death.
1.-The old woman rejoined me. and,
tortured by that curiosity which ever
lives at the bottom Of the most re-
signed Of souls:
$50 you come from France? said
she.
"'Yes, I'm travelling for pleasure.
"'You are from Paris. perhaps?'
"'No, 1 am from Nancy
"It seemed to me that an extraor-
dinary emotion agitated her How 1
saw, or rather how felt it, I did not
know.
"She repeated in slow voice:
You are from Nancy?'
1.-The man appeared in the door.
impossible, like all the deaf.
"She resumed:
at doesn't make any difference.
He can't hear
Then, at the end of several sec
onds:
$50 you know people at Nancy?'
"'Oh, yes, nearly everybody
1.-The family Of Sainte-Allaize?
"'Yes, very we'll; they were friends
of my father
"'What are you called?'
II told her my name. She regard
ed me fxedly, then said, in that low
voice which is reused by memories:
"'Yes, yes; 1 remember we'll. And
the Brisemares. what has become Of
them?'
They are all dead
"Ah! And the Sirmonts, do you
know them?'
"'Yes, the last of the family Is a
general
Then she said, trembling with
emotion, with anguish, with 1 do not
know what, feeling confused, power
full and holy, with I do not know how
great a need to confess, to tell all, to
talk of those things which she had
hitherto kept shut in the bottom Of
her heart, and to speak Of those peo-
pie whose name distracted her soul:
"'Yes, Henri de Sirmont. 1 know
him we'll. He is my brother
And I lifted my eyes at her, aghast
with surprise. And all of a sudden my
memory of it came back.
1T had caused, once, a great scan
dal among the nobility Of Lorraine. A
young girl, beautiful and rich, Suzan-
ne de Sirmont, had run away with an
underofficer in the regiment of hus-
sars commanded by her father.
He was a handsome fellow, the
son Of a peasant. but he carried his
blue dolman very we'll, this soldier
who had captivated his colonePs
daughter. She had seen him, noticed
him, fallen in love with him, doubt
less while watching the squadrons fl
ing by. But how she had got speech
of him, how they had managed to see
one another, to hear from one anoth-
er; how she had dared to let him un-
derstand she loved him-that was
never known.
Nothing was OWNED. nothing sus-
pected. One night when the soldier
had Just finished his time Of service
they disappeared together. Her peo-
pie looked for them in vain. They
never received tidings. and they con-
sidered her as dead.
$50 l found her in this sinister val
ley.
Then in my turn l took up the
word
"'Yes, I remember well. You are
Mademoiselle Suzanne
"She made the sign yes with heI
head. Tears fell from her eyes. Their
with a look showing me the old man
lmotionless on the threshold of his hu,
she said:
THAT is he
"And l understood that she loved
him yet, that she still saw him with
her bewitched eyes.
II asked:
Have you at least been happy?'
"She answered with a voice which
came from her heart:
"'Oh, yes! very happy. He has
made me very happy l have never