The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 20, 1900, Page 6

THE SUNDAY OCALL. ¥ llegitimate daughter of 3 #on. A hasty marriage t s mother and an employe vears later in the ters, left Jude Duram- ds them to the & soclety she has don and Parls, to de, develop their independence e them 80 1 factors e men. The Noble Maid- ‘ celibacy mobler than mar- eters obtatn work, re in Parls. quaintance of this agency the . er and & & sculp the elist e se nd Lea 1 1n love - cages himself to Lea, but hail be & p dream by one too when, & few r phrase w Mile. t by force. If he serv: appeai to the e we ma) rmer teacher, t know end without aken other 4 by Fred- see what e was oniy at owing to , &5 his represen- coffer him the lawyer whom satter assured would probably 2 would grant a pe- school in which to free e took any part @ was nervous. Hot cheeks from time e visage, and her A single idea the school was 3 tion: son i3 falling to pleces around fever. quite Indifferent to all the to save the work. Ruin ap- itable. Nothing would suo. felt sure of it, and the work e Boubize, perfectly calm f suffering, she listencd ate without taking alarmed by her silence, and asked her opinion casions, but she only ob- replies. was like young mis e their daf 1 other scholastic ses had decided v_work no matter urround them, and who had visited the school that industrious hiveful never have believed nction. > cvening, a few upper, Daisy Craggs en- room us usual to go er. She was surprised nd her there. Usually the young 4 from the little lelsure before meals to continue her medical studies. Dalsy went to the dining room alone with- out any anxiety. The little one had already gone down, she thought. But she only found Mlle. Heurteau and Lea in the dining room when she arrived Then derique and Pirnitz came and assistant mistresses Craggs asked if they had seen Germaine. She rned that the pretty red haired 1 been met by several people about , “with her straw hat. her ilk cloak and shotsilk_parasol” ridor on the ground floor. She sed the courtyard, with its aca- few minutes later, going in the n of the Rue des Vergers. Daisy to m inquiries from who told her that Ger- little before & e gatekeeper had e passed, but had not d to the right, Meu Tha m s she nitz and Fred- her anxiety everybody. They Ives to be brown in the co ishw away was passed of curlosity nxiety, could A said to and look hap- > have the arm stop here sere. You wit ave alre: ineé hool is the ob- Aborhood. 1t \bout looking at do you Besides, you ere is nothing rmaine is very | capable of t It is quite p! ied to o v > must pay more rdon, walted not re- ay re- hd without anning s gath- r that ere by - skin of Bouchar- she doing = yrobably right to Bouchardon’s did she not speak < ni her mind the build- e silence in d communi- ce, isy returned ize. Germaine had moment she was the gateway, to ness beyond. nt across the wly remounted to ere she knelt down s bed and wept. . like Duyvecke, had s before, the thresh- bond ‘that linked her ised and .ready to break. not crossed the threshold. remained all_her will indifferent to ned, And her besom, her kindly red face she could not she was weep) r for her lost friend or for her moment Germaine Soubize, her little brown silk cloak 1 her shoulders and bosom, was and down the wide, almost idewalks of the avenues which rom the Place de I'Alma toward s ysees. As Dalsy had rl had left the school out notifyin, ad she been askey £g be would have been sed 1o reply. A violent impulse 1 her to take a step as yet 1 in her mind, but the neces- ed irresistible to her. the Duramberty asked if the manufacturer as told that he had moments before. yu tell n here he Js at pres- i. “I have a very. important was = t the door, who was reading a appar K anxious not longer, replied, as ancols 1.” nked the boy and walked quickly, then at an easy rd the Porie due Bas Meudon, hich she entered Paris. She e Seine, crossed the Pont Mira- clong the quays toward the vo and the Place de I'Alma. The side sce ", with its immense scaf- ng along its banks the ex- ngs, caused her to stop sev- The evening promised to be a ne. not at all overpoweringly ¢ in spite of the persistent brilliant t, thanks to a strong northeast h rippled the surface of the Germaine was animated by a curi- dor, by a longing to walk, to talk, She say cverything. around her accustomed precision anrd relief, so with clear was her mind. A single detail ‘an- noyed her. At intervals a keen pain at the nape of her neck made ltself felt and was followed by a brief dizziness., She did not trouble about it, however; she had often suffered the same way after one of her nervous attacks in the night. “He ought to be at home now,” she thought, as she arrived at the Place de '"Alma The clock In a workshop at the corner of the Avenue du Trocadero indicated ten minutes past 7. She hastened her pace, went across the Place. up the Avenue Montaigne and turned into the Rue Fran- cois 1. No. 6 was a private house, two stories high. and -of aristocratic appear- ance. The wrought iron gate. with thick sheet glass behind and two shining copper knobs, was closed. Germaine rang. . The right half of the folding gate vibrated sullenly and half opened. The young gir! pushed it open with an effort and entered the arched hall In the gatekeeper’'s lodge. furnished as rococo salon. a tall footman with stde whiskers looked her over. M. Duramberty?” He's not at home.” Will he return for dinner?’ No, mademoiselle. Did mademoiselle wish fo speak to him?” added the lackey, softened by the pretty visage that Ge: maine turned toward him. “I bad something to say to him. But it 1 will return in a short @oes not matter. time.” “Oh! it will be quite useless. M. Dur- amberty will not be here. He does not return from his club until after 11 o'clock If mademol- —between 11 and midnight. a lne for selle would like to write him-—" “No, thank you. I will write him by post.” She went away, and when outside the gate again recommenced the sort of som- nambulistic promenade which she was to prolong until far into the night, with one idea in her head—to await the moment wnen Jude Duramberty would return from his club. Many.people remembered later the girl with her red hair, the fixed stare of her gray-green eves 'and automatic walk, whom they had met in the Avenue Mon- taigne, the Avenue d'Antin, the Avenue Marceau, the Avenue de 'Alma and in the cross streets that reunite these ave- nues with one another. Shopkeepers and concierges, getting a breath of fresh air, sitting on thelr doorsteps, had noticed her several times and had made remarks about her. She walked along, obstinate- Iy fixed in her idea and careless of all re- gards. When the clear sunlight faded and the ashen twilight veiled the sky above the tall stone houses, she suddenly felt a sensatlon of extreme lassitude and sat own upon a bench in the Avenue de Alma. before a Protestant_church built in a gloomy Gothic style. She remained there a long time, her head aching, vague- * dreaming. She saw shapeless shadows move In the gradually deepening obscurit She murmured. ‘Daisy!” She longed to ave that faithful adopted mother near ncr. Had the Irish woman passed thaj seat of sorrow when Germaine cailed fol her how gladly she would have allowed herself to be le v by the hand' But Dalsy was weeping at that moment at the foot of Germaine's bed. The light of a street lamp suddenly it near her made the voung girl shudder, She rubbed her eves and awoke to a con- sciousness of her project. The noble sweep d broad sid ks~ of the avenue stretched along under a pure sky. in which the stars were already twinkling. Rows of lamps outlined it from end 1o end. Several carriages and rapld victorias dashed along, carrving men in wi and women in light-colored cloaks towar. ihe cafes in the Bois and the Champs lysees. Then there was an extraordin- ry silence and lack of movement—. si- I which the clock of the Protesta#d h told off the ro: 9 o'cloc ary of the hours s . 10. 10:15. Germaine mused upon her bench. A man came and It by her s a little man of uncertain age, carefully dressed, with the suspicious, furtiv ir of one seeking shady adven- As she did not move. he made an pt to draw nearer to her. She arose nd walked away quickly. The man dd not follow her. When she found herselt once more in the Rue Francois I she again felt perfectly lucid. There was no one in the street. The facade of Durambeity's residence was closed. und not a single ray tures cf iight filtered through the barred and bolted shutters “Has he already arrived?’ she asked herself. But the footman had told her between ock and midnight 1 o and it was only 10: Germaine tion where turn of ti ow No a big b ght out post of observa. could watch for the re- inufacturer. Two houses was a mews occupying receded by a glazed court- sot sh, the ilding yard. The t ed doorway of this courtyard affo convenient retreat. Germaine hid in it. The shadow doorjax her so com; i n on patrol passe iving her. ~ic moment of watch- 1 then only, Germaine was en- fous ‘of what she was golng pain at the of her head no longer tortured her. A marvelous clear- letely quite wess of _perception appeared to flood her Duramberty was the enemy! Du- : was oppressing the work! Du- ramberty demanded 150,000 francs, which they could not pay. And she, Ger- main was golng to attack = the oppressor of the _work face to face and alonpe! He should yield share the fate of all enemies of the pe the faic of the Burkes and the h lishes in Daisy Craggs’ anecdotes. A curious thrill of ecstasy, which made her eyes fill with tears and made her tremble in every limb, overcame Germaino thought that she was about to W Her right hand fingered nickel-handle of a weapon that she slipped into the opening of her bod!ca before 1 ng the school—in a furtive 1e corner of her laboratory, where she kept her case of surgicsl in. struments. She drew it gently from its hiding place, after logking to see that the policemen were far away. They could not even be seen. The steel blade of the open lancet glittered, reflecting the yellow butterfly flame of the nearest street lamp, and the white hand spotted with freckles of the i'uung girl closed convulgively upon the haft, and made the upward gesturz of one opent: the slde of a chloroformed patient. What mysterious hereditary i sunct, suddenly ‘awakened, aroused a murderous frenzy in tha soul usually so pitiful? Germaine rcgarded the elender instrument of death. manufactured to be an arm of life, and trembled with spa: modic glee. But a carriage turned tha corner of the street, two diamond-like sparks, Its acetylene lamps, flashed out in the dar® ness. Germaine hurriedly thrust the lan- cet back under her cloak, with its handle within reach of her hand. The, carriage came along at the measured trot of « big bay horse and stopped before the honse. M.” Duramberty got out, sppke & few words through the open window to same one who remained In the carriage, and then sald to the coachman: “Achille, drive this gentleman home, Be here at 8 o'clock to -morrow morning." And ‘while the carriage wheeéled round and_drove off he felt in his pocket for his bunch of keys. g Germaine came out of her sheltcr and approached him quickly. “‘Monsfeur Durambert: The manufacturer considered the flgure, which he could see was ceful “and youthful, although he could not distin- guish the features hidden, as they were by the veil, with some surprisa. Ile thought he was dealing with a belated ad- venturess. “That's rather an odd way of accosting one,” he said, laughing. “‘Whers thc mischief did you come from?* % “1 wanted to speak to you, M. Duram- erty." She raised her veil and showed her srelly face in a halo of red curls. He sud- Excuse me. I enly recognized her. recognize you now. We are neighbors in Mademoiselle! t. Charles, ars we not? Yes, I am ri‘!rl& ou are a professor at the School of there. [Forgive me. At such an hour, and With that thick vell, I did not recognise ¥ou at first. Besides, I did not expec! I know, I understand, sir. The step T have taken must n.p?n.r extraordinary to you. I came about 7 o'clock and was told ou would not return until very late. As t was absolutely necessary that I should Bpeak to you to-day I walted.” 'You were quite right, quite right,” re- plied Duramberty quickly. With the eves of a connoisseur he had seized all the grace and charm of the {oung girl's slender figure and attractive, rregular features, aa ou wish to speak to me?’ he add- ed, qung her by the arm and leading her befors the door of the mews, whers she had walited for him. *It is not very convenient to go into my house at pres- ent. My valet de chambre s walting for me and, besides, I am not in_the habit of bringing home with me— Well, let me spea. rankly; you would be compro- mised. Have you a few moments to spare? ‘‘As many as vou please, sir.” Thé man's hand seemed to burn into her arm, the words he uttered irritated her pride, but she remained calm with an effort of will. “I must see him alone! thought. “Well,” sald Duramberty, “T have little bachelor’s chambers quite close, in the Rue la Tremoille. We shall not be dis- turbed there. Shall we go there?”’ “Yes, sir.” She freed her arm without any abrupt- ness and walked along by Duramberty’s side through the empty streets, where the silence was only broken by the pas- sage of a few carriages and belated way- farers. They were both silent. A pro- found calm seemed to have settled on Germaine’s heart. She id to herself: ““An act of justice—a necessary act—is about to be accomplished! Silently, and quickening their pace, they arrived at the Rue la Tremoille, and stop- ped before an apartment house similar to all those erected in that quarter by build- ing companies. Duramberty rang, drew behind Germaine and called oyt his name to the gatekeeper as they passed the lodge. “M. Legrand.” Stopping immediately on the left, under I must!” she the archway, he opened the door of a suite 'of rocms on the sround floor, “Walk in, mademolselle.” The door clesed and the elec- tric light turned on, Germaine found herself in a brilliantly il- luminated room hung with p biue silk, furnished like a lady's boudoir, with a low bed in one corner, cushioned seats, no pre- tension to styvle, a number of vings hanging upon the and, before her, Duramberty, smiled as he lcoked her over. broad shoulders and ruddy visage under the thick gr hair impre: d her. She had never seen him so closely before. She had not thought him so tail, nor of so virile or intelligent a bearing. She noticed the beauty of his mouth, firmly modeled under lf\t‘ light mustache that 'stitl remained brown “You see, no one can disturb us here,” he said. “Sit down, I beg of you, and take oft your cloak. No? Very well, as.you ltke. At any rate vou will take a glass of wine, will you not? We have walked ratheér quickly.” She did not reply. He took her silence as meaning that she accepted. Opening a little cupboard he took out two champagne glasses. which he placed upon a little ygueridon, then; stooping down, he select- ¢d a bottle of ‘champugne from among a number that filled the lower shelf of the cupboard. From the low armchair where she wes sitting Germaine could see the broad shoulders of the manufacturer, his red neck and bushy gray hair. She touchea the haft of the lancet in her bosom under her cloak. “It would be very easy now if 1 chose,’ she thought. And once more a wild Joy flasbed through her entire being. “No." she reflected, “he must reply to me first. He shall pro- nounce his own sentence.” Duramberty arose, tore off the capsule of the bottle, adroitly uncorked it and filled the glasses. ., “Allow me, mademoiselle.” *No—in a few minutes—I wish to speak to vou first. Duramberty Ful down the brimming lass with iis litue evaporating bubbies. Ie sat down before Germaine with a re- signed air. l"{ldnm listening, mademoiselle,” he said aloud. The moment she tried to speak, Ger- maine felt extreme embarrassment. After the unhealthy excitement of the day and the half conscious delirium of the last few hours she suddenly became again the sim- ple and modest young girl. the companion of Pirritz and Daisy. The place where she was, alone with this man, the cham- / rcm standing before her, filled her with orTor. She was silent. “Well,” asked Duramberty, smiling, s it so very difficult what you want to say? Don't be afrald. You see I am mnot & maneater, as your friends claim.” ‘Monsieur,” murmured Germaine with an effort, ‘“you must not ruin our s g Duramberty could not conceal the sur- prise this beginning caused him. He had expected a little more diplomacy. “The school?” he said, “Oh, that is what is troubling you? I have no ill feel- ings toward your school.” “We cannot repay you the 150,000f due to you, sir. We cannot pay them elther to-day or to-morrow, but if you will have patience, if you will give us a little time, you know perfectly well that your money will be safe. And you are.rich, you make immense profits. What are a few months’ delay to you with the resources you have at_your command?”’ She epoke gently, almost humbly, and at the same time she realized that this was not the way she ought to have spoken. She felt that the manufacturer, who was still smiling, did not take her serfously. As a matter of fact, this busi- ness conversation at such an hour and in such a place amused him. He even had to restrain a strong desire to burst out laughing. Germaine noticed his suppress- ed enjoyment and stopped short. “You will not wait?”’ she asked. 1 don’t say that.” ‘Well, what do you say?” He began to laugh openly. “My dear child, vou meet me at mid- night, after I have been to my club and i s I am going to bed, to discuss a s matter with me. I reply, natural- 1y, t 1 cannot bind myself at this mo- ment. I must think the matter over. I will see. It will all depend”'— Upon what? “Upon many things. Naturally, to have to deal with a pretty intermediary like you disposes me favorably toward the affar. Who sent you? Was it Mlle. Surfer?” He left his armchair and came and gg! o No one knows that T upon a little stool nearer Germaine. dre: ack. )ne sent me. e uttered the words, “No one sent he surprised a singular gleam in the youne sirls green eyes. ' He examined wit her more attentively, from her eves, Her Sirmed Wrist Was Gripped in the Manu- Jacturer’s Firm' Fingers. their long lashes. to the fingers strangely curved at the tip. “‘She is hysterical,” he thought. look out.” ‘M. Durambert an “I must Germaine continued, ill-assured vof. “‘Spare us. Be It is your duty. t, 1 tell you again, I have no in- ntion of being hard upon you. You in- t absolutely upon discussing this busi- L vith me? Well, let us talk it over. only natural, after all, that I should o protect my interests, now that Mile, Sainte-Parade is ruined, is it not? [ why I should allow creditors hom T don’t even know to selze the 300,- in 006 francs, which form my security, with- out mak: some protest. But with that rese tion, ! promise ycu 1 will be indul- gent t the question of the dates your bayments will become due. T will be very in my terms, you understand?’ rasped her left hand. She did not iw it. Her right was still ner- vously finger! the buitons of her bodice under her cloak. She did not perceive that Duramberty, in spite of the feverish desire that agitated him, never lost sight of that right hand. He touched it with hig lips and caressed if. Germaine sighed. “Let_me go, sir. Let me go!™ He okbeyed. It was an instant before she could recover possession of herself, so much had her poor organism with its her-ditary nervousness been stirred by his caress, the first she had ever recelved from a man. When at last she couid speak. she sald: ““You will postpone the date of payment until later, vou will sigh an agreement."” “‘Oh, sign an agreement! I don't care to be doubted. Besides, postpone the pay. ment until when?" “‘Oh, put it off as long as you can, two years or one year. if you like. We wiil de- posit §0,000f straight away." “I am either deallng with a mad woman,” thought Duramberty, “or this is a little trick devised by those artful women.” The last hypothesis appeared the more probable to him. for Germaine stuck to her idea with such obstinacy. He ceased to smile. and in a firm tone of voice, which contrasted with the amused though courteous air he had hitherto wn;n‘ h'e mld': ~ “1 refuse to make any engagement. Your friends have only to trust m‘e wi{‘h‘. out formulating any conditions. I shall decide according to the way they act with regard to me whether td be indulgent or severe.” ““So you will send the bailiffs to-mor- row?” said Germaine, preparing to rise. “I shall naturally take every precaution necessary to protect my rights. “But you will not let our note go to * were free, that they der will not seize our property " Dunmmty looked straight in the face. He saw her visage e and then suddenly turn red. Through the thin silk cloak he saw her right hand some- thing. Determined to push the adventure to its Nmit, to irritate his strange visit- or to the very utmost and to find out what had reaily brought her to his house, he arose and replied: “] shall do exactly as I please, Made- moiselle. Let us say no more about it. Germaine took his measure with a glance. She realized confusedly that in their respective positions, he standing and she sitting; she would have no advantage over such a solidly bullt individual. But despalr clouded her brain. She was suf- focating with a mad desirs to act, to at- tempt something before fleeing from that room. She sprang at him with a leap Iike that of a wildcat, clutching with her left hand at, the opening of his white Talsteon e i et vndons et, struck low %he Sbetacle presented by his robust body. Although upon his guard, Duramberty stag mfi, so sudden was the attack. While parrying the blows with his right arm and trying to push Germaine away with his left he received a little slash in the neck, and then the point of the in- strument’ pierced him in the hip just bel- low the beit of his trousers. ut al- . h ten seconds had scarcely gle:gs):zd?‘l(‘l:‘gl;%un; girl's strength was ex- hausted. Her armed wrist was gripped in the manufacturer's firm fingers, her shoulder was squeezed as though in a vise_she was powerles - e e Less than half an hour later Duram- berty walked nervously to and fro across the room, casting a glance at Germaline ‘or uttering a word from time to time. ““Come, my child, don’t weep! 1 assure you I will not tell anybody about your lit- e fit of madness. Tell me what I can do for you.” But she remained silent. He had tried to slip a bank note in her hand, but srga had let it fall on the ground. She gave ro answer to any of his questions. “Well, =0 much the worse for her,” he £ald to himself. The nickeled haft of the lancet glittered among the tawny fur of the rug, where it was half buried. Duramberty picked it up and smiling faintly gave it to Ger- maine. . & “You are forgetting th he said. She was not even conscious of his irony, but mechanically slipped the instrument in_her pocket. % “Thanks. Please open the door,” she said. He obeyed. He accompanied her to the outer door, through the narrow ante- er and along the entrance passas went away without uttering a word When she was outside the poor girl be- an to run through the streets at hap- Eazard untll she was out of breath. Then leaning against a wall she burst into a flood of tears. It was about 2 o'clock in the morning. A sonorous step and the whistling of some belated night bird drawing near terrified her and she recom- menced her mad _course. She arrived on the bank of the Séine, turned back again and soon came to the bench in the Ave- nue de I'’Alma where she had sat some hours before. She fell upon it again like a poor wounded animal that had returned to a familiar retreat in flight. An ardent longing to be purified selzed her. But how was she to be purified? By death? The Seine was close at hand. But death eould not efface the poliution of that night. Only martyrdom, only suifering for the good cause could wipe out the stain. ‘The desire for some revo- lutionary action which should noble everything, the ye murder_that id be seized her, keener and than ever. Not for a think of returning to Duramberty Bul coldly and calmly she sought whom she coulc immoiat whos biood avenge the outr: e she ad suffered. e her accomplish the revolutionary ~deed first; appeasement to her heart would fol- low! She felt her soul big with murder. After so many sleepless and foodless hours the fatigue pred: ed her to hal- Jucinations. The scenes of her past passed before her eyves like tabl 3 vivants of a spectacie. She evoked the pictures in her memory with all the clear cut precision of reality, without any of the vagueness or exaggerationof a dream. Bhe saw the room In the Rue Galande where she had lived, a little girl. She saw the fights between her father and mother among the broken bottles, while drain- ing their alcohol upon the floor. For an instant she was again the bad tempered chiid whom Daisy had taken away from the Sauvetage,K de I'Enfance and had brought to the Avenue de Segur at the very moment when she was about to be sent to a farm in the Creuse. Tears relieved her hear the memory of an almost f guddenly she saw herself again with Lady Mary Jackson dly months ago—reading aloud to the sentimental and despotic English wo . in whose service, by a sort of contr B d felt her own anarchical sentiments become stronger. Bir James Bartlett, the friend—dou} the lover—of Lady Mary, reappear in her mental vision. with his red face carefully shaven. his bald skull fr med in two artfully plastered locks of bair. Ah! the abominable couple of ene mies of the people! How often, when in Lady Mary's serv ce, how often in looking at them, in listening to their frightfu sentjments of an egotistical ¢ she had thought, half seriot amused, “How I should like to tie them together and throw them into the Seine like a couple of mad cats! What a plea ure it would be! What a laudable deed! Then it was only an idle idea, though of smilingly without any dream of its po sible reality. But now, wounded and d honored, a helpless vagabond, sitting upen that bench, she realiy wished she could garrote thém with her own ha + cast_them into the river.” To th: at that moment they i ved ple 3 as a year ago. in uttering infamous bia hemy about poor wretches and in ins ng the.poverty stricken! *I know the old woman still lives in her entresol in the Rue du Colisee. A him, I met him last week en horseb: the Champs Elysees. Ah! if I had them here—"" The fever of murder again quicl her pulse She no longer suffered (rom her pollution, from her solitude. Without any distinct idea, but restored to hope. the poor girl rose from her bench and walked along the avenue toward the Champs Elysees with a meditative step. The pallor of dawn was effacing little by littie the stars in the sky, whose color was becoming faint and vague. Night was disappearing like smoke and was melting in the air that was already zlow fng. The houses, with their windows hermetically closed to the light. appeared more distinet, particularly toward the broken lines of the roofs. Oh' the ex- quisite freshness that she breathed! A heavy wagon laden with huge stone blocks shook the street with its rumbling wheels and the trampling of its five horses. Germaine turned the corner of the Ave- nue I'Alma and walked toward the Rond Point. cned CHAPTER 1IV. That night, tragic for Germaine Soubize, brought but little peace to most of her companions. Its sllence and darkness ag- ravated the martyrdom of expectation or Dalsy. _But Mlle. Heurteau, I'red- erique and Lea also did not enjoy an unbroken rest. In fact, only Pirnitz, by the strong discipline of her will, imposed upon herself as usual a few hours of light sleep. Mfle. Heurteau passed the loni’houn in drawing up a_“Project for the Reorzani- zation of the School With the Help of the Municipality of the State.”. M. Duram- berty had asked her to do this in a per- sonal letter to her. *She performed the task in secret, excusing herself to her con- science with the idea that ‘‘the report was 1mercstlnf to draw up.. T am exposing my own ideas sincerely in it. Besides. when it is finished, T shall be quite at liberty to keep it to myself. I have prom- ised nothing.” . Frederique and Lea went to bed at the usuahtime. They hardly spoke to one an- other. They had no need of words in which to communicate their opinion about Germaine's departure. Germaine had left them to go after some man. Frederique was overcome with the bitterest disgust. Another defection, and one of the worst, at the very moment when many cal- umnies assailed the work! “Oh! the mi erable tyranny of sex! Will none of us ever emancipate ourselves from it?" Germaine's flight also reacted upon.Lea, and shocked her: but the egotism of her smoldering passion regarded everythin, from the point of view of how it affect herself. ‘‘Suppose I were to do as she has done?”’ &he thought. “It would be very easy. It only depends upon myself. If [ had left the school with Germaine at this moment 1 should be in London. Georg! My beloved! My husband! I should be near you! I would watch over you, nurs you, make Jou wenl All her thoughts revolved around this Broe‘ect—to rejoin_Georg and nurse him ck to healt For, having no news of the Ortsens save Tinka's novel, and a: she had not dared to write for informa- tion, she had gradually come to identify Georg with Willlam Powell. “Georg is ill! He expects me! I alone ———————————————————————————————————————————————— him, 1 remain hered & “': and D.uny‘;om have had so\-r- age, but I alone am cowerdly, yet 1 am - Georg's wifel”, er own inertia, but hope lflsl?lu\?eldu?:dnar. “The school is going to will drive us away, and then o }t;h% him!” She reserved all the will she had left for this event, which ;{Io realized was close at hand and inevitable. In the meantime, through the open «:‘nz: between the adjoining rooms the snu!r'l X & faint cough or the creaking of Fred- erique’s bed reached her ears. “Dear Frederique! How dear she ! me! How 1 shall suffer in leaving hert? She repeated this to herself obstinately; conpelled herself to believe it. Alas 329 realized that her sister was no hmgvrlt. o Fedi of former times. A sort of log "é rancor was slowly growing in a corner ot ker heart as she thought of the powerfu pioneer who had captured her intelligence and will at their very source and had im- ines upon her. Lea had e withdrawn from a natural life through Frederique. Like all rel S:a was almost ready to hate _h'ur whom :: had formerly welcomed. She was terr! fied by her own thoughts, and like a Christlan tormented by doubts who mu murs the prayers of a passionate fa she repeated continually: “How I her! How noble she is! ‘Dear Fedl The following day brought its custom- : i ception of Ger- ary duties. With the exception of Ger- ne all the mistresses were os¥s. Even Daisy, whom Pirnitz had Eepn to see at dawn, and who had been recomforted and exhorted to have cour- age, was in her place. Pirnitz’'s n:!lnuvm, like that of Frederique and of Lea, was that Germaine's absenee was due to some love adventure. 4 VAR cried Daisy, when the apostis confided this idea to her; “ah! Germaine th whom she likes if she Is ed her to leave after her class to make discreet inquiries outsid Daisy gave her E lish lesson from § to 9:30, as usual. Then 2 dressed to go out. . As she passed before the lodge the gatekeeper called to her: ““Miss Craggs She entered the lodge. = “What {s the matter, Laurent?” Laurent, a former soidier, who had been given the post by Mile. de Sainte-P; held out a number of the Matin to Irish woman. : pi “Have you seen this, mademoselle One of your countrymen has been mur- dered in the Champs Elysees He showed her the big let- ters of an article in e of the third Dais ly cast a page. glance upon the page when she screamed and ran out of the lodge, carrying the paper with her. he crc the vard, thrusting aside oming out to play, to rique’s room. “Frederique! a chair. she panted, falling into bailiffs 7" asked the young was the news she dreaded day, when the delay fixed by Duras for the repayment of his security pired : ¥ “Read that! Read that!' sald Dalsy, throwing the newspaper to her. Ana Frederique “Latest news. ( . Murder of Five a. m. press news crime commit ock in corner ¢ h noblema in the Rue du Col- of an extraord! ning abo the been outra; We give tself with lata Germaine! “Don’t you wu Lord Barcl mere distort name of Sir Mary Jack: P as ding companfon two year There is no_doubt about it. Lady Mary iives in the Rue du Cofisee. And then the s ical instrument! Sir James was lea ng dy Mary's. I'm sure that it is Ger- maine, as sure as though 1 had seen it! Great God! Great God! What will become of her? What will they do to her? Will they execute her?’ ! Come! Don't lose" your What reason would Germaine have 1ling an 1 en for a year and a h do I know? abused her formerly I Perhaps she still continued her relations with him. Oh, T don’t know! She never nfided in me upon the matter. Never! v And if any one_had told me yes- little Germalge was not e called him She hesi- head. for no 17 Perhaps as the paper hints. he had a lying scoundrel. tated. Well, go on. Dat Well, even if ( such a frigh responsible “l don't understand.” Daisy took Frederique her own. “Ah, Freder but have a ltt maine has committed he cannot be held s hand humbly in vou have no weaknes: s £gr others—have p for us. Germ hild of ur worthy parents. Is it her fault if alcohol has deformed and poisoned her parents’ brain? Germaine us." B n nervous, Fedl. She fs—is—" and poor Daisy bowed her head pon Frederique’s & s ill, an In- val She s terical at- quite last night ed here. We must ccuse her! . e, in a tone ef repr kept such a ter- rible se You have left such a 1 among the children posed the the fate of the v Daisy sudd ou have ex- catastrophe.'” ederique’s hand. She rose to her feet before the young giri whose regard reproved her “The work? The school? The pupils? You talk to me of that when Germaine 1s in prison, in peril of her Don't you realize that 1 we your school and all the schools i to save a > hair of my 5 r one's head? Ah she continued, waving Frederique away with a gesture as the girl tried to ap- P oach her, “I have too much regret for having led Germaine into all this crazy movement and for having taken part in it myself! We were both so happy in our rooms oh the fifth fi in Avenue de Se- gur, with no one to order us about, no one to impose rules upon us! I earned my Iiv- ing: she earned hers. We did a little good —heiped those who were poorer than our- selves. But here in t house, shut up like a convent, she stified, she who was made for freedom Frederique, sad and motionless, allowed this flood of invective and heart- wrung exclamations to cape from the Irish woman's lips. Thoroug! 1lfy exhaust- ed Daisy leaned on the foot of the brass bed and began to sob. Frederique drew near her. A somewhat disdainful pity awoke in her heart for this woman whose charity had admired, whom she had believed capable of noble, disinterested sentiments, and who showed herself so feeble and so helplessly chained by or- dinary affections. “And yet, suppose I from me as Germ away from her?” she tentive to the criticism of reason. “What should I do? No! I should sacrifice Les She formed a strong resolution in that moment in case of circumstances that seemed improbable and at the same tims that she was compelled to foresee: “If Lea leaves me I will not give uv the work to rejoin her. The work before every- thing!” She returned to Daisy. who was still weeping. her fair gray hair hanging down each side of her infantile face, wet with t a were taken away has been taken thought, always at- s, ome, Dalsy. take courage! T will hel you to save Germaine! I promise you! know some one who has great influence in the judicial world!" “Really?”" sald Daisy. raising her head with childish jov. “You will really help me? Oh! how good and strang you are! You must not pay any attention to what 1 said. 1 am only an old. mad woman when Germaine js absent. Still.” she con- tinued. after a little pause, “suppose it is not Germaine of whom the newspaper Speaks? After all. Germaine is not the only one who knows Sir James. who is probably a rake like all English people who live on the Continent. Let us go down to the laboratory, shall we? Let vs see if Germaine’s instruments are ail there. 1 know them; about them to me!™ ‘This -’ppnred a good idea to Freder- jque. If a dangerous instrument wers lacking It would prove that Germalne was the young woman referred to in the Ma- tin. “The two women were about to leave the room when Frederique suddenly stopped. and said: “What is the matter? I don’t hear the pupils in the court vard. And yet the recreation is not over?’ she explained all (Continued Next Sunday.)