The Madisonian. (Richmond, Ky.) 1913-1914, 1914-08-11

With that she threw up her head
and fixed Jean Philippe, drinking in
all this, with an unexpected stern
glance. What are you doing here,
Nelson? What manners are these?"
Then, relapsing in flash into pure
human trust and affection toward the
anxious old servant: my dear, old,
good Moison-he is alive-Monsieur
Francois is alive-in horrible prison
in Italy! But he is alive, Moison!"
And with that, sudden jump again
into dignity. ''Who brought this, Moi
SOM"
Jean Philippe was only too happy
to have hand in the joyful excite
ment. "Mademoiselle, the young per-
son speaks little language But he
told me to say to monsieur the mar
quis that he was the little Battista."
Pietro looked up quickly. Alike it
is the servant from my old home of
whom l spoke to you. I can not imag-
inc how Francois got hold of him, but
he chose good messenger. May 1
have him brought here? He must have
something to tell US"
Alike, her letter in her hands, strug-
gled in her mind. Then: "The letter
will keep-yes, let him come, and we
can read it all the better after for
what he may tell u.s."
So Moison, having orders to produce
at once the said little Battista, retired,
much excited, and returned shortly
but not so shortly as to have omitted
fling of the great news into the
midst of the servants hall. He con-
Quoted, marching behind him, the lit
tie Battista, an enormous young man
of six feet four, erect, grave, stately.
This dignif1ed person, saluting the lady
with deep bow, dropped on one knee
before his master, his eyes full of a
worshiping joy, and kissed mis- hand
Having done which, he arose silently
and stood waiting, with those beaming
eyes feasting on Pietro's face, but
otherwise decorous
First the young marquis said some
friendly words of his great pleasure in
seeing his old servant and the friend
of his childhood, and the big man
stood with downcast eyes, with the
color flushing his happy face. Then,
''Battista," asked the marquis, chow
did you get the letter which you
brought mademoiselle?
my father" answered Battista la
conically.
How did your father get it?"
From the signor prisoner, my sig
nor"
Alike and Pietro looked at him at
tentively, not comprehending by what
means this was possible. Pietro, re-
Numbering the little Battista of old,
vaguely remembered that he was in
capable of initiative In speech. One
must pump him painfully
was your father In the prison
where the signor is confned?" Alike
asked.
The little Battista turned his eyes
on her a second, approvingly, but
briefly. They went back without delay
to their affair of devouring the face
of his master. But he answered
promptly. Eyes, signorina; he is there
always"
-Always?" Pietro demanded in
alarm. "Is Battista prisoner?"
But no, my signor."
What then? Battista, Try to tell
Ma"
So adjured, little Battista made a
violent effort. "He is one of the Jail
ers, my signor."
"Jailers? For the Austrians?" The
face Of the marquis took all the joy
full light out Of the face Of little Bat
tista.
my signor," he stammered, set
could not be helped. He was there. He
knew the castle. They forced him at
first, and-and it came to be So"
Knew the castle!" Pietro repeated.
what castle?"
Battista's eyes turned to his Mas
ter's- like those of faithful dog, trust
ing but not understanding. 'What cas-
tie, my signor? Castelforte-thes sig
nor's own castle-what other?''
A sharp exclamation from Alike
summed up everything. "Your castle
is confscated; they use it as a prison.
Francois is prisoner there, Pietro!
All these years-in your own home!"
81 never dreamed OF. that" Pietro
spoke, thinking aloud Every other