Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-03-21

the cottage gate, and somewhere near
at hand Celeste was rattling her pots
and pans.
hostess to the door.
"Ah madame" she said, "you are
awake! I will attend to you-F1nette
is not here. She has gone to Paris
with Gustave, and the horse and cart.
She had business which could not be
put of, and she bade me tell you to
be patient till her return. Your break
fast waits, madame, and your clothes
are dried and pressed. will help you
to dress"
with kind, swift hands, Celeste as
sisted the fugitive countess into her
own garments, and set before her q
cup Of real French coffee and an ONE
lette with herbs. Ethel ate and drank
a very little; then she said to Celeste,
In French:
"Are we quite alone here?"
Yes, madame"
OF me?"
"No, madame"
She then retired, leaving her guest
to her own reflections.
Ethel sat at the table where the
Frenchwoman had placed her break
fast gazing away through an open
window toward the woods Of Yer
rieres. The storm had passed with the
night-the sky was without q cloud. A
scent of roses perfumed the cottage,
the breath Of blossoming herbs was
waited in from the garden without. On
the airy sill humming-bird fluttered
In the cup Of scarlet flower. Bees
droned in the sunshine. The whole
morning was radiant with JOY. She
only was miserable and despairing. :.
with hands working In distressed
~ No. ~ hnr
Ethel pondered. What was to become
of her? She had not sou In the
world, and to remain under this hum
BILE roof was clearly impossible. To put
the world betwixt herself and her hus-
band-this was now her one overmas-
tering desire; but how could she do
It? How fly to her friends-to Amer
ica-the haven for which her r,iass SICK
stripped by the count Of all her valu-
ables; fugitive and alone, her condi-
ton was indeed desperate.
1T is all like horrible dream" she
thought. pressing her hands to her
confused head. Can 1t be I, Ethel
Sardis. once so happy. so proud. 30
carefully sheltered from every wind OF
heaven, who have suffered these hu-
miliations, dangers and agonies? can
scarcely believe It! What can do?
Whither can go? Oh! wish I had
perished in the chateau last night!
It was high noon when carriage
stopped at the cottage door: and a mo-
ment after Ethel lifted her forlorn
eyes and saw two persons entering che
humble room wherein she sat. One
was Finette; the other was tall. red
haired man, with rugged; unhand-
some face, eloquent now with mingled
compassion and indignation-Sir VAL
entine Arbuckle; and, even before a
word was spoken. Ethel knew that FL
nette had concealed nothing from him.
She started with faint cry from her
chair.
Countess" he said. advan, .lg
quickly to her side, your servant
visited me at my hotel few hour:
ago, and so long as live shall feel
grateful to her for so doing. DO not
distress yourself; no explanations are
necessary understand everything.
am come to help you"
Her pride was gone, her strength
was gone. She looked into his rugged.
sincere face, and silently (for she was
past speaking) held out one weak, I'M
ploring hand. He took 1t firmly be-
twixt his own.
Remember what said to you in
the church, countess: Do not regard
me as q stranger. am glad, most
glad, to be- Of service to the daughter
Of my former employer. Indeed, I
would not have missed this opportuni-
ty for worlds"
The tears welled slowly up in her
great. dark eyes.
Strange that Finette should have
thought Of you!" she murmured
strange that she should have ap-
saw your face half dozen times In
my life."
THAT does not matter In the least
said Sir Valentine brightly. "As I
said before, shall never cease to thank
your maid for this proof Of her conf
dence. Pardon, can you not, for q
little while, look upon me as broth
er? Finette has told me some facts
others / can guess for myself. After
what has passed I am confident that
you do not wish to meet that man
Count Stahl-again."
mo, no."
Have you any friends in Paris-in
Europe, with whom you might take
refuge for a while?"
A smile, sadder than tears, fitted
across her pale lips.
mo, no my lord. Three weeks ago,
had many friends-now I have none
/ am, and must henceforth be, as dead
to the world, as though I had perish
ed last night in the chateau"
He stood for a moment as II listen
ing to the gable Of Celeste's geese,
outside the window; then he said:
"Tell me. do you wish to return to
New York-to your own relatives
countess?"
Il dol do!" she sobbed, under her
breath.
Then I beg you will permit me to
conduct you without delay to Havre
xfytl crn uyith
be lost, If you desire to leave France
before the count can put himself upon
your track You will take passage in
over madame till her arrival In New
York. I will find some person OF trust
in whose charge l can place you dur
ing the voyage. Before many days
you will be safe with your own peo-
ple."
She did not speak, but she looked al
him with eloquent eyes.
Pray do not forbid me to do you
this small service" he said.
Forbid! Oh, no! I accept 1t with
my whole thankful heart. Heaven
surely sent you to my deliverance!'
Before he knew what she was about
to do, she raised his hand to her quiv,
ering lips. Most gratefully, mos,
fearlessly, I place myself in youl
charge" she said.
Disguised in q thick veil and Ions
mourning wrap which Sir Valentine
and Finette had taken the precautior
to bring with them from Paris, Ethe
left the cottage at Verrieres.
She had nothing to bestow upon Ce-
leste at parting but the baronet turn
ed upon the humble threshold, and fill
ed the hard hand Of Gustave's wife
with glittering gold pieces.
A hundred miles and more she jour.
neyed to Havre, comforted, supported
guarded by Finette and Sir Valentine
Arbuckle. There, in that western port
when everything had been provided
for her voyage-when the baronet ha6
placed her in care Of the captain OF
the steamship in which she was tc
sail, and received the officers Ir-
ance that he would faithfully yatct
over madame till her arriva lin New
York. Ethel parted with devoted SER
want and new-found friend.
Jio