The Birkenhead News and Wirral General Advertiser. — 1887-12-21 (Birkenhead, Merseyside, England)

CHAPTER XXIII. (Continued.) Teuton arranged the cushions under the nu. conscious head, and then he resumed his seat, and the perusal of hia favoorite author's discourse on "Inequality among men." For some time he read on attentively, but presently, impelled poPsibly by solicitude, he glanced towards his charge. De Ravignatea eyes were no longer closed. They were wide open, but no speculation was in their fixed gaze; no response to the keen scrutiny of the valet's face. Still as death, the long, dark lashes threw their shadow on the marble pale cheek. Motionless as a corpse he lay, and Teuton craned his neck attently and listened. Peaceful R 3 the sleep of a child the regular breathing rose and fell. A speedy, Potent drug this invention of Teuton's. An invaluable anodyne, no doubt, if only judiciously and deftly employed. One single drop too much, any excess—" El! Ei ! So you think things may be carried too far, do you, my noble—brother ?" matterered Teuton through his closed teeth. "So do I, so do I when aristocrats rule the roast. What is the difference, I should like to know, between you and me, that I should be sitting here—blood of your blood, blue that it is, ho, bQ I—your laquey, yours. But we're going to ohmage all that. It's the canaille's turn now. You fine porcelain ones have had your day. The clay pot is coming down the river fast— fast upon you and where will you be then? No more inequalities, marquis. No more measures—one for my lord in his velvet and lace, the other for goodman peasant breaking his back that you may antic in your gilded boudoirs and Flora pavilions. No more slavedriving. Liberty—liberty for all, except for such as you; and equality—he he, how will you like that, my marquis master? Fraternity—won't that be sweet, my most dear brother? Fraternity—or death !" Things may be carried too far, may they?' he muttered on, bending his ear close down over the unconscious man. "You wouldn't care for a community of goods, would you? No, no; it must be all your's, musn't it? while your brother lives on twenty sous a day, and what he can beg, borrow, or steal besides. Your wife is the Austrian wonan's minion—the proud spotless • rose of Triannon' as I have heard fools call her. He! ho Is she so? Your wife—yours? What if the time is coming—come--when share and sha-e alike is to be the motto? No, we'll not have Equality—not we. Principles won't stretch to it. pedant—moralist—monarchist that you are. But she shall be mine for all that. Body of her—soul of her—if ehe,s got one. All mine—mine—mine 1" Then thrusting his head out of. the window Teuton glanced towards the horison westward, where the distant goal of their journey lay a dim black mass seething in the blood red and purple heat mists gathering slowly in the sultry July afternoon, and stopped the carriage. Jolyot descended from his perch on the box-seat, and came to the window. 'Monsieur," he gasped in consternaVon, as he caught sight of De Ravignac's pale face and motionless form. " Monsieur has fainted. That is all," said Teuton, quickly. "But I have succeeded in restoring him. And he is sleeping comfortably enough now. But it is simply murder— " Murder !" ejaculated the bewildered Jolyot. " Ah, bah I say it would be murder to centinue the journey. We must Make a halt." "Best return to Villers Cotterets," said Trigot, from the box, and tightening the reins as he spoke. "We're not half a league from there yet." "No, no," said Touton. When monsieur looked impatient at our even stopping as we came through he would never forgive us for turning. Drive on as I tell you. There's an inn not far ahead." "Inn you call it, do you ?" said Trigot, with a grimace, "Dog-hole you mean, for a gentleman like monsieur, any how." "Does he mean Dames' place ?" said Jolyot, looking doubtfully from Touton to Trigot and back again to Teuton. " The Old Black Wolf !" "Exactly. I mean, with your gracious permission, the Old Black Wolf, Monsieur Jolyot. It's had as good company as monsieur le marquis inside its walls before to-day. Come drive on. Minutes are precious in monsieuee state." And Touton drew in his head, and pulled up the window. "One would think he was monsieur himself to hear the way he talks," grumbled Jolyot. "Monsieur would have to be in more of a devil of a temper than I've seen him in yet before he'd give him.elf such confounded airs as that," growled Trigot, as they rumbled on.