Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, October 3, 1903, Page 6

ST gee Barbara Bret.t.on’s we «Ambition ao CHAPTER XXXVI-—Continued. For a moment she suffered his em- brace, then she released herself from his closefolding arms, and they stood apart, an invisible wall rising between them. ¥ A knock sounded on the door. Flor ence, very pale but otherwise calm, crossed the room and opened it. Her footman stood there. “Mademoiselle, a woman is below, who says that she must see you.” “Bid her come up,” she answered. “Stay, Travis,” she said, turning to her lover. “If some new calamity threatens me, let me at least feel that you are near.” So they waited, side by side, and so Marie’s eyes fell upon them, when, ushered by the footman, she entered the room., She waited until the maa had retired, then she looked from one to the other. Both had recogmzed her. “I am not the bearer of ill news,” she began, in answer to Travis’ frown, as he sternly fixed his gaze upon her. I have come to tell you that you are | free to marry the young lady whom you love, and who now stands by your side—free, I say, as the birds of heay- en to mate with their choice—” “This woman is mad! She is the spy, the tool of her mistress,” inter- rupted Travis, turning to Florence, whese Lrenibling frame betrayed her | agitation. “Why should you say that to me?} In what way, sir, have I wronged you? I am not mad, neither am I here in! any one’s behalf, unless my own. I! have lived my life, all these years, with no purposeles aim. You have all—all helped me to my _ goal! It is now reached. A few more days and I shall stand triumphant—my object in life achieved. Why, then, should I not help those who all unconsciously have helped me? I tell you you are both free to woo and wed. Is the news so unwelcome that you will not credit | sr?" An accent of truth was in her words, Travis stared forward. “Beware how you trifle with me!” | his very lips whitening. “Is the mis- erable life ended that stood between us?” “Madame is well, and still, like the | deer hound, on the track of the fawn; | but there is one swifter in the race—I have passed by her. Yes, she still lives, but you, Mr. Meredith, are not | fettered by her life. At the time of that empty ceremony she was alrtady married to another. She did not know this fact herself then; she believed herself to have been deluded into a mock marriage. She has since learned the truth, but is not yet willing to forego her claim upon you. She had one blow yet to strike. Methinks the steel will recoil upon herself.” “Woman, where is your proof?” “Here!” cried Marie, “here!” draw- ing a parchment from her breast. Travis started forward. She spread it exultantly before him. It was the marriage certificate between Barbara Bretton and Gerald Lysle. “Go to the church register if you need further proof,” she continued. “Now for my reward—it is very sim- ple. Ask Monsieur Milton Lennox to go with me to my lady’s house. I have something for her ear I would | | moth to the candle. Not satisfied with having singed. my own wings, I ex- posed him also to the flame, little dfeaming how it would draw him in its fire, You have come between him and every thought and hope of happiness, until he heard that you were dead. Can you wonder that we both rejoiced that once more the future opened its gates of promise, and that we peered through into anticipated Eden? Nay, more—we crossed the threshold, when an angel stood before us with a flam- ing sword—an angel in its beauty, but with the laughing mockery of a de- mon—a fallen angel, who hurled us back into misery. You were alive; therefore hope and happiness were dead. Madame, if the truth which has reached me to-day is true, you life can in no way longer affect ours, for you are not Travis Meredith’s wife!” “Prove it!” she hissed forth. “It can easily be done. Your mar- riage certificate will give us proof, in telling us where the ceremony was performed. We can search the regis- ter of the parish.” Making no reply, Barbara rose and left the room. Entering her bedroom, she violently rang the bell. In a few moments Feline appeared. “Is it you,” she cried, “who have be- trayed me? Where is the certificate of my marriage with Gerald Lysle? Give it to me this instant!” “Yes, my lady, I have it safe,” the man answered, feeling within his linen for the paper, which crackled beneath his touch. He severed the stitches which held it in its place, and drew it forth, hand- ing it to her unfolded. “That will answer your first ques- tion, also, my lady” he said, with re- proachful respect. Barbara quickly opened it. A blank page appeared before her astonished eyes. Her senses swam. “Traitor!” she said. But Feline’s face betrayed a more acute astonishment than her own. Only yesterday Marie had again ad- ministered to him a soothing dose, that he might sleep. He now under- stcod, though madame did not. “Who can hope to outwit a woman?” he muttered, as he again found his way down the stairs, and madame returned to her boudoir. The door leading into the room be- yond stood open, and a pale, gaunt man leaned upon the supporting wall. Once more Richard Hayes learned the truth—knew why he had served this woman. He and his enemy had fitly met. But ere he had time to speak, Marie entered from the door opposite. “You have done it, Marie?” cried Barbara, springing eagerly forward— “you have accomplished my errand?” A dull fear blanched Milton Len- nox’s face. Had he again been lured from Avice’s side when they stood in need of him? Marie’s next words re- assured him. “I have done nothing,” she an- swered; “but for what I have already acomplished I claim my reward. Here in the presence of these gentlemen, I would tell why I have served madame all these years.” CHAPTER XXXVIII. Marie’s Confession. There was a sinister meaning in Ma- wish him also to hear. Persuade him to this step and I ask no more at your hands.” Caaeal HF CHAPTER XXXVII. “One drop, one little drop, and the life that is so hateful to me will be ended! Why should I hesitate? Why should Richard’s weak fears prey upon me? Poor fool! He loves me as a bet- ter woman might be loved. But I was not always thus. It is he who has made me what I am—he on whom I would be avenged. Why, then, does the memory of a far-off past come up to torture me? Why cannot I forget the wailing cry which smote upon my ear as I left my child to perish on the steps of La Madeleine? Is it because I now know how needless was the sac- rifice? Had she lived she would to- day have been an earl’s daughter, and she would have been the age of this girl whom I would murder!” The hand that held the tiny vial trembled. There were depths in Bar- bara’s nature not all bad—noble im- pulses, long dormant, turned to igno- ble ends—a thwarted ambition recoil- ing upon itself—a passion that might have led to love’s true holiness, now driving her to despair and crime. Feline’s entrance roused her. “Mr. Lennox is below, my lady. He would see you for a moment.” “Mr. Lennox?” she echoed. “Has he again come here to torture me?” she thought; then aloud, to Feline: “{ will see him here,” and nerving herself to calmness, she awaited his coming. She glanced up as he entered, and with a formal bow, motioned him to a seat. He remained standing. “Madame, I am not here on my own account, but on that of one whom you have deeply wronged—the man whom, all these years, you have bound to you by a yoke as galling as it was hope- less. All these years I, too, have shared it with him, since it was through me that he bent his neck to rie’s tone which directed every eye to her face. “I do not claim to be a good wom- an,” she began, “but there was a time, long years ago, when I was young and pure and trusting. I was but seven- teen when I met my Pierre—met and loved him. He, in turn, loved me. We were to have been married. Pre- vious to this time I was in service. It so chanced that a lady came to Paris who wished a nurse. I sought and ob- tained the situation. She was scarce- ly older than myself, very unhappy, very wretched, because her husband had deserted her. Ah, madame, you start! Years make many changes, and you have failed to recognize me; that is all. °. f “Well, one night madame had been very ill. I was left to watch her, for at times she had been delirious. To- ward midnight she dismissed me, say- ing she felt better and would be alone. I went up to my room, but could not sleep, and sat, dressed, by my win- dow, thinking of Pierre and our future happiness. Suddenly I heard the street door open and softly close. I leaned out. My young mistress had hastily dressed, and now was rapidly disap- pearing in the darkness, with her babe close pressed to her breast. “It was but the work of a moment to follow her. Through many winding streets I was her shadow, until she stopped before the gates of ‘La Made- leine.’ Then, for the first time, I sus- pected her object. Heretofore I had supposed she intended suicide. She did not even stoop to kiss her child as she laid it on the steps of the institu- tion of mercy; neither did she notice that another mother had also deserted a baby there. She turned when she had laid her infant down, and fled. “I stopped and raised it in my arms. Then I looked at the other child. Its face was blue with cold, its lips had a pinched look, and I fancied it was dy- ing. A quick determination dazted through my brain, which, as soon as the sacrifice. It was I who guided the Os CTIVE PAGE thought, I acted upon. In five minufes I had changed the infants’ es. If this baby died, evidently of humble parentage, judging from its garments, let this heartless mother believe it, hers. A “The next day the child died, as I had supposed. In some way my mis- tress ‘desertion of her baby was dis- covered, and a dark cloud of suspicion rested upon her head. It was suspect- ed death had not alone been the result of exposure, but there was no positive proof, and she was not held for trial “In all this I had been actuated by no malice, but had learned to love the little helples thing which I had nursed, and I took care to follow its fortunes. Of that, more hereafter. My mistress then went upon the stage. She avenged the wrong which had been done her, from the highest to the low- est. She spared none. It so happened that Pierre was en- gaged at the theater when she played. He was a scene painter—a handsome fellow—above his sweetheart in station and education. She saw him. His handsome face attracted her. She smiled upon him. It was enough—I was forgotten. I went to her. On my knees I pleaded with her to give me back my lover. “She laughed in my face, and dis- missed me. Oh, the wretched days that followed! Pierre grew pale and thin. He was her shadow. In vain I tried to win him back. Her beauty had bewitched him; he was a slave to do her bidding; he worshiped her as a queen upon her throne. At length there came a day when she tired of him. The amusement was growing dull. Another fly was hovering over her web, of larger growth and more brilliant plumage. “Instead of smiles, Pierre met with frowns; instead of the sweet glance of recognition, the cold stare of va- cancy; instead of the gentle hand- pressure, she drew aside her silkén | skirts that he might pass. “At last he found his way into her} presence only to be repulsed with} scorn. He went out from her and sent with his own hand a_ buflet through his poor, bleeding heart. Over his dead body I swore revenge; over | his grave I vowed that the brand of murdress should rest upon her, as it deserved. Aye, Barbara Bretton! you now know why I have served you.” The two women now stood face to face, but on one face was the gleam df triumph, on the other a haunted look, as though her sin was coming home to her. But one part of the maid’s story seemed to have reached her*brain—but one fact to stand out beyond all oth- ers—the fact that her child had not died! “Tell me!” the mother almost | shrieked. ‘Does my child live?” “You would know, then, the truth? She lives, but lives rather to curse | than bless her mother. She was taken from La Madeleine and adopted by a man whom the world knew as her | father. I have here the legal papers which were drawn up at the time. How I obtained them matters not. would you see them? Would you learn who is your child? Would you know the part you have played in her young life? Look! Judge for your- self. A quick premonition of the truth darted through Richard Hayes’ mind, even as it flashed through that of Mil- ton Lennox. The latter’s face blanched to a dead- | ly whiteness. The former's first thought was of her whom he so loved. “You will kill her!” he exclaimed, | darting forward. But too late. Barbara had snatched | the paper, and in that brief instant the | name had burned its way into her! brain. | Her child had been beneath her roof, | and how had she received it? Her child—Avice! A gray pallor crept over the beauti- | ful face; the paper dropped from her | nerveless fingers; then rallying, she | snatched the little vial from her bosom | and poured it, drop by drop upon the ground. | “Oh, God!” she said, “in heart I} murdered her!” The old sense of suffocation came |, creeping about her. She gasped for air. Then death came in one gasping sob. | CHAPTER XXXIX. Conclusion. There was little trouble in winning | Florence St. John’s consent that | Avice’s wedding day should be her| own as well. She was very pale, and her voice | trembled as she made the responses, | while from time to time during the ceremony she glanced with a troubled look at the door, as though expecting that majestic presence 'to enter and again strike terror into her sinking heart. ‘ But it was over, and she and Travis Meredith had been made one, although no guests had been bidden to the feast, and only she and Avice wished each other joy On Avice’s cheeks a faint rose flush vied with the lily; but the mist had cleared from the sorely tried brain, and hope and happiness had again root in her breast, as she leaned upon the arm of her husband. “And we are all to go away together upon our tour, and you will not tell us where?” she questioned Milton. “No, my love; not yet. Have a lit- tle patience.” ; Avice shuddered at the words; they recalled a past the blissful present could not quite shut out. Milton drew her close to him. His quick eye had noticed the instant change in her. pow Urink I would let anything harm you?” ‘They were many days on their jour- ney, stopping here and there at will, as, after crossing the chanenl, they wandered slowly into the heart of beautiful England. But one evening, as the sun was sinking slowly to rest, they were driven into the grounds of a superb old castle, whose lawn, on which grew trees a century old, sloped to the water's edge. To Avice’s amaze, stopped before the door. A gray-haired butler stood upon the steps, with tears in his eyes, as he bowed before her. The servants stood in a long line in the hall.. What could it mean? Milton drew her into a little room where, for the moment, they were alone. “My love,” he said tenderly, “you have suffered greatly. Can you bear good news as bravely as you have borne all else? You thought you came to me nameless, except for the name your more than father gave you, and which was rightly yours by law; but suppose I tell you you have had a iiy- ing father all these years, who, though less worthy, has left you even a nobler name, would your knowledge make you happier?” “Only for your sake,” she whispered low. “But what do you mean, Mil- ton?” . “Only that, after all our wandering, we have reached home at last—the home which was your father’s—which now is yours.” “And my mother, Milton?” she ques- tioned, in a low, tender tone. “Tell me of her!” “You never knew a mother,” he an- swered. She thought he meant her mother had died when she was a child. A solemn pause followed his words; then they rose, and, arm linked in arm, went out to receive the glad welcome ef the old retainers of the Earl of Bertram to the young Countess their mistress. The proofs Feline held he gladly gave up, and without publicity, or the fact of Barbara’s relationship, Avice’s rights had been secured to her. So years passed by, until, with Flor- ence and Avice, the past was almost forgotten. Travis and Florence always spend half of every year with Milton and his beautiful young wife. Sometimes Travis shudders as, looking at her ex- quisite loveliness, it so fatally recalled another face, which to Avice as to him, was connected with the bitterest sor- row of his life; but Avice, looking at her own image in her mirror, laughed at its charm, because Milton called her beautiful. Beyond this she had no vanity, until later, when children’s feet pattered throvgh the old halls and children’s voices made it always summer in the old house, she saw her own fairer im- age in their young loveliness, and sought no other mirror. (The End.) the carriage TIME A GREAT LEVELER. As the Woman Remarked to her Hus- band Anent His Politeness. “Time,” remarked Mrs. A. Crid Tongue to her husband, “certainly is a great leveler, isn’t it?” “Uh-huh,” replied her husband, who was trying to get a line on the batting averages in the newsnaper. “Only to-day when I met you on the street I fell to thinking what a great leveler time is,” pursued Mrs. A. Crid Tongue in a reflective sort of tone. “Now when we were engaged, and per- haps for all of a year after we were married, when you met me on the street you would raise your hat to me just for all the world as if I had been only some female acquaintance with whom you were desirous of making a hit. And now, when you met me on the street you grunt ‘Hello,’ and keep your hat just as level on your head as can be. Oh, there’s no use talking at all, time cértainly is a great leveler.” Wisely perceiving that she had sprung one that didn’t admit of a come-back, he kept still—Washington Post. Officially Informed. Lady—I should like to look at a flat which I see is to let in ths building, but no one has answered my ring. Man—I’ll show it to you. way, mum. “Well, this is very nice. will suit, I am sure. What Sort of a hal) porter have they here?” “The very best in London, mum.” “Obliging?” “As any one to be found world, mum.” “Honest?” “As the day is long, mum.” “Is he attentive to his duties?” “He’s workin’ himself to death, mum. Always thinkin ‘up some new thing to make people comfortable.” in the “Dear me! I wouldn’t lose this flat for anything! Where is the-hall por- ter now?” “I’m him, mum.”—Cassell’s London Journal. He Only Asked Once. Mr. Nextdoor (to little Willie, who has been invited to dinner)—What part of the chicken will you have, Wil- lie? Willie (earnestly)—Some of the white meat, part of a wing, a piece of the second joint, some stuffing, the gizzard and some gravy, please. Mam- ma made me promise not to ask to be served more than once.—Judge. A Diplomat. Mamma—Now, sir, tor your disobe- dience, I’m going to spank you. Wilie—Say, ma, lei’s compromise this thing. P Mamma—What? Willie—Call it quits, and I'll use my “My darling,” he whispered re-| influence with pa to get you that bon- proachfully—“you are mine now, Doj| net you want.—Philadelphia Press. Come this | The rooms | WHERE HAMLET LIVED. Geodetic Congress Visits Place—Also Tycho Brahe’s Grave. An American who visited the ses- sions of the international geodetic congress held at Copenhagen last month writes entertaininly of the ex- cursion provided by the Danish com- mittee, which included visits.to the Swedish island of Hven, where lies buried Tycho Brahe, and to Elsinore (now Helsingor), the home of Hamlet. After a run of about two hours we saw before us a slightly hilly shore, with many flags flying, and on nearing we found the dock crowded with the inhabitants of Hven, all in their Sun- day best, who had come down to greet the Danish vessel bearing representa- tives of many countries, and to enjoy the unusuai treat of a military band. Stepping ashore, we all found places in carriages, which were there await- ing us, and were driven to the former home of Tycho Brahe, the great as- tronomer, born in 1546, and whose dis- coveries, as a famous astronomer said to me, “mark a turning point in the history of the world; without him no Newton would have been possible, and no Keppler.” In front of a simple granite monu- ment, erected by King Oscar to com- memorate the three hundredth anni- versay of Tycho Brahe’s birth, the band took up its stand and played an appropriate dirge. We all then walked over to where his wonderful castle had stood, builded as he thought for all time, and adapted most admirably for his astronomical observations. It has long since entirely disappeared from the face of the earth, nothing remain- ing to show what was once the focus of all interest for the learned of Eu- repe but the general shape of the ex- cavations, a few cellars and the old well, fifty feet deep, and from which we drank the pure, ice cold water which has refreshed the thirsty for more than 300 years. HE STOLE THE MAIL. Thefts cf Christiania Employe Explain Interrupted Postal Service to Nor- way. If a great many letters from Amer- ica to Norway have never reached their destination, the explanation is very plain. In the past two years a clerk in the postoffice at Christiania has stolen between 6,000 and 7,000 let- ters sent from America. He was in search of letters containing inclosures of bank notes, which are numerous in the American mails, the senders pre- ferring to take the chances of loss in order to save the money order charges. Olaf Ingebrigsten, the clerk in ques- tion, must have been very successful in his hunt for money, as he lived high. The discovery of the thefts was made by two of his acquaintances who went to his apartments while he was away and discovered hundreds of en- velopes which had not yet been de- stroyed. Many of these contained checks and drafts. Ingebrigtsen con- fessed to the police. SAWFILER MYSTERY. A Swedish Physician Thinks He Has Solved It. Dr. T. Fegarus, a Swedish physician, practicing at Baku, in Russia, thinks that he has solved the mystery of the Russian sawfilers who have frightened the people of Sweden and Norway and who were suspected of being Russian spies. Dr. Fegraus says that in talk- ing with some of the strikers in the recent disturbances he found that many of them had traveled far and wide in foreign countries, supporting themselves by filing saws and tinker- ing while studying social conditions. They kept themselves in retirement as much as possible as they did not want the Russian government to know what they were doing. It is quite possible that the much-feared Russian spies were workingmen students in the pur- suit of knowledge. APPOINTMENT CRITICISED. Michael Samuel Not Recarded With Satisfaction by Swedes. Michael Samuel, a wholesale dealer in New York, has been named as act- ing world’s fair commissioner for Sweden, to act until a commissioner arrives from that country. The press criticizes the appointment. In the first place, Sweden will officially participate in only the art and education depart- ments, with which”Mr. Samuel prob- ably has small knowledge. Moreover, being a Hebrew, he is little known to the Swedes in either Sweden or Amer- ica, and on that account also is not a desirable man for commissioner. C. A. Smith and John Lind of Minneapolis are suggested as men whose appoint- ment would be approved. Coal at Spitzbergen. The coal fields of Spitzbergen have the past summer been investigated by two Norwegian experts, Fastning and Fangen, who found that at a depth of 45 to 50 meters there is coal of an excellent quality. Sweden’s New- Warship. The Swedish navy is to have a twelfth armored vessel. It is to be known, as Oscar II. Four Swedish iron works submitted bids for its con- struction, the lowest being that of the Kockum works, for 3,364,600 kroner. CANNOT ADVERTISE. Druggists in Sweden at a Great Dis advantage. At present druggists in Sweden are prohibited from in any way advertis- ing any druggists’ wares for gale. As it does not seem reasonable that oth- ers should have a right which is de- nied the druggists, the druggists’ soci- ety directors have petitioned the gov- ernment to prohibit all advertising of medicines, giving as a reason that by such prohibition the public will be much benefited, as would be spared, through false representations, to be induced to purchase at a high price advertised remedies which in many cases are worthless, and the druggists would be freed from the necessity of selling such goods. HJARNE AN ACADEMICIAN. Election of Political Writer Not Alto- gether Satisfactory. Prof. Harold Hjarne has been elect- ed to Carl Snoilsky’s place in the Swedish academy. Prof. Hjarne is a political and historical writer none too well known, and contributes another member to the element which is al- ready strongly represented. Judging from the tone of the press the gen- eral desire was to see a poet honored, and the election of a political writer can hardly be said to meet with gen- eral approval. FOR CLOSER UNION. Danish Paper Established to Keep American Danes in Touch With Home. The publication of a new paper called “Our Countrymen on the Other Side of the Ocean” has just been be- gun in Copenhagen. The paper is published by two Danes who were formerly located in the United States, and the object of the publication is to bring about a closer association be- tween the Danes in America and those in the mother country, and supply in- formation to Danish emigrants to this country. A Plan That Killed. Death came in a peculiar way to a resident of Torsas, Calmarlain. He had become hopelessly drunk, and fearing that he would be unable to’ keep his seat in the postwagon, his comrades conceived the original idea of nailing his coat to the seat. The’ man reached home in time, but as a corpse, in spite of the precautions. He fell off the seat anyway and was dragged probably several miles, until he succumbed to his injuries. Enolish Want Black Granite. From Vexio it is reported that the English government has_ recently awarded to the Company Syenit a con- tract for black granite to the value of 800,000 crowns. The stone is to be used for erecting monuments over the graves of the officers who fell in the last’ war. The granite will be taken from the company’s quarries at Gran- huit, Agusnnaryd and Ljustorp, Ryss- by. F Convert the Gypsies. Halland province will petition the Swedish riksdag to relieve the parish of the gypsies, who are a nuisance all over the country. It is proposed that the adults be taken care of at the pub- lic works and that the children be placed with respectable farmers, so that they may be educated and trained as desirable members of the commun- ity. It is hardly believed that the riksdag will adopt the plan. Mailing of Medicines. For the information of the public the postal department directs attention to the fact that medicines cannot be sent by mail to Sweden except when ad- dressed to druggistsior certain scten- tific men and manufacturers who have received authority to receive them. All medicines received addressed to others are returned or destroyed. Notwithstanding that the revenues for Sweden'in 1902 exceeded the esti- mate by 5,200,000 kroner, the balance shows a net deficit of 1,445,000 kroner. This is due to the unexpected in- creases in the administration of sey- eral departments. It is about twelve years since the minister of finance was compelled to report a deficit. Two Funerals. Hr. Lunddahl of Soroe, Denmark, has had two funerals within a few days. After he was buried it was dis- covered in his will that his body must never lie beside that of his brother, the late Dr. Lunddahl. There was nothing to do except to dig him up again. Field Maneuvers. Extensive field maneuvers, in which Vestmandland and Upland regiments, supported by artillery and cavalry, will operate against each other, will be in- augurated near Altuna, Vestmandiand, Sweden. S— + BACK IN THE WHITE HOUSE. President Returns to Washington Af- ter Thirteen Weeks’ Absence. Washington, Sept. 30.—After an ab- sence of thirteen weeks spent at Oyster Bay, President Roosevelt re- turned to Washington yesterday. The president was accompanied by Mrs. Roosevelt, Miss Alice Roosevelt and other members of the family and by . Private Secretary Loeb. The presi- dent was greeted by several hundred people who cheered when he entered his carriage. The president and fam- ily drove direct to the White House,