New Britain herald., 1922-12-05
THE FORTUNE TELLER


 and delicate and the ink yellow with age. Monsieur Jonquelle turned the pages slowly and with care. for the paper was fragile. We had dined carly and come in later to his house on the Faubourg St. Gcrmain in Paris.
 Ho wished 10 show me this old diary that had come down to him, from branch of his mothers family in VirGinia---a branch that had gone out with a Kings Grant when Vir- ginia was a crown colony. The col lateral ancestor Pendleton had been q Justice of the Peace in Virginia, and spinster daughter had written down some of the strange cases with which her father had been concerned. Mon sieur Jonquelle believed that these cases in their tragic details, and their inspirationa deductiye handling equaled any of modern times. The great library overlooking the Eau bourg St. Germain was curtained off from Paris. Monsieur Jonquelle read by the fire; and I listened, returned as by some recession of time to the Virginia of vanished decade. The narrative of the diary folows
 It was big sunny room. The long windows looked out on formal garden, great beech trees and the bow of the river Within it was sort of library. There were bookcases built into the wall, to the height of a mans head, and at intervals between them, rising from the floor to the cor nice of the shelves, were rows of ma hogany drawers with glass knobs. There was also fiat writing table.
 It was the room of traveler, a man of letters a dreamer. On the table were an inkpot of carved jade, a paperknife of ivory with gold but terfiies set in; three bronze storks, with their backs together held an ex- quisite Japanese crystal.
 The room was in disorder-the drawers pulled out and the contents ransacked.
 My father stood leaning against the easement of the window, looking out. The lawyer, Mir. Lewis, sat in a chair beside the table, his eyes on the violated room.
 "Pendleton," he said, II don't like this Englishman Gosford."
 The words seemed to arouse my father out of the depths of some re- fiection. and heturned to the lawyer, Mn Lewis.
 "Gosford!'' he echoed.
 'He is behind this business, Pen dleton," the lawyer. Mir. Lewis, went on. Mark my word. He comes here when Marshall is dying; he forces his way to the mans bed; he puts the servants out; he locks the door. Now, what business had this 4Englishman with Marshall on his deathbed? What business of se- crecy so close that Marshall's son is sbarred out by locked door,
 He paused and twisted the seal ring on his finger.
 When you and I came to visit the sick man, Gosford was always here, as though he kept a watch upon us, and when we left, he went always to this room to write his letters, as he said.
 And more than this, Pendleton; Marshall is hardly in his grave be- fore Gosford writes me to inquire by what legal process the dead mans papers may ba examined for 8 will. Andsit Is Gosford who sends negro riding, as if the devil were on the crupper, to summon me in the name of the Commonwealth of Virginia. to appear and examine into the circum- stances of this burglary.
 II mistrust the man. He used to hang about Marshall in his life, upon some enterprise of secrecy; and now he takes possession and leadership in his affairs. and sets the mans son aside. In what right, Pendleton, does this adventurous Englishman feel himself secure?"
 My father did not reply to Lewis discourse. His comment was in an- other quarter.
 Here is young Marshall and Gaeki,' he said
 The lawyer rose and came over to the window.
 Two persons were advancing from the direction of the stables--a tall, delicate boy, and strange old man. The old man walked with a quick, jerlky stride. It was. the old country doctor Gaeki And, unlike any other man of his profession. he would work as long and as carefully on the body of a horse as he would on the body Of a man, snapping out his quaint paths and in a stress of effort, as though he struggled with some invisible crea- fire for it's prey. The negroes used to say that the devil was afraid Of sGaeki, and he might have been, II to disable a man or his horse were the devils will. But think. rather, the negroes imagined the devil to fear what they feared themselves.
 Now, what could bring GaeN here ?" said Lewis,
 "It was the horse that Gosford overheated in his race to you" re- piled my father. "l saw him stop Tn the road where the negro boy was leading the horse about. and then call young Marshall
 .It was no fault of young Marshall. Pendleton," said the lawyer. But also. he is no match for Gosford. He Is dilettante. He paints little pie lures after the fashion he. learned in Paris. and he has no force or vigor in him. His father was dreamer. wanderer, one who loved the world tand it's frivolitics, and the son takes tthat temperament softened by his mother. He ought to have a guar diam
 -i "He has one" replied my father
 "A guardian." repeated Lewis. "What court has appointed d guar dian for young Marshall?" "A court" replied my father, that does not sit under the authority of .s.