6 THE MOUNTAINS. Towering high above the treetops. All their gray lone summits rise. Till the heights in mighty beauty Seem to touch the bending skies. Fair the morning's golden sunlight On their peaks in splendor lies, And the glory ot the sunset Lingering there In grandeur dies. Winter's silvery snowfiakes resting On their heads a crown descend, And the lonely eagles nesting Find their heights a sheltering friend. -J. B. M. Wright, In Boston Budget. V>| A ROSE OFM NORMANDY J WILLIAM E.'A. WILSOH L CHAPTER VI.—CONTINUED. It must needs be business of great ■fmport that wcuild take a human be ing out in such a storm. Whatever his object, the man's purpose never tor a moment wavered as he fought against the sweep of the drenching blast that he encountered while crossing the Pont Notre Dame. Turning and walk ing along the river bank for a short distance, he finally entered a small and obscure cross-street. He proceeded along tliis, until he was directly in front of a dilapidated building situ ated in the rear of the Hotel de Ville. Here he stopped and gave a peculiar whistle, which could not have been heard for more than 20 paces, because of the uproar of the storm. A dark figure, securely mutfled like his own, appeared at his side, as suddenly and mysteriously as though he had come tip through the earth. A sigh was given and returned, and the heads of the two men approached each other, ■while their lips moved in some myste rious interchange of words. All seemed well, for the first con spirator turned, and, opening a narrow door with a small key, disappeared, followed by the other. They felt their way along a pitch dark passage. Again a key was used, and a word of caution heard from the leader as they descend ed a flight of stairs into a subterra nean way. This was soon traversed, snd a door was reached, through whose cracks and keyhole a light appeared. This opened into a room built entirely underground and lighted by a large lamp. A table occupied the center of the floor, and several chairs were scat tered about. A large brazier of lighted charcoal warmed the air and dissipated the moisture of the place. An open ing in the roof leading to the out side world somewhere gave sufficient ventilation. The door being closed, the leader •threw off his clciak and muffler and ad vanced to the brazier, spreading his tiands above the glowing coals with a •slight shiver. At length he turned and showed by the lamplight the form and features of Jean Baptiste Colbert, minister of finance, the most powerful as well as the most energetic of the king's servants: of middle stature, rather lean than fat; black hair, so thin that he always wore a cap; of low and dejected mien, gloomy air. and stern aspect; eyes usually half closed, giving him the appearance of great craftiness; his outward behavior modest and accompanied by much seeming plainness and simplicity; so ber, sleeping little, always alert; hard snd inflexible of temper, beholding without concern the misery of an infi nite number whom he had ruined to enrich his master's treasury, and hence advance his own interests. Nicknamed "The Man of Marble," he sacrificed honor, integrity, gratitude, and every thing else for the benefit of his am bition. His companion also removed the cov ering about his face and neck. Hla dress was that of a man of the lower classes, his fane pale, sharply cut and ascetic. His manner toward his com panion was that of an inferior in the presence of his superior in authority. "Colbert spoke first. "A terrible night," he said with an other shiver that convulsed his entire frame, and caused him to seek again the grateful glow of the coals. "Truly, a fearful storm," replied the other. "But it is necessary for mem bers of our order to lie about the or der's business ad majorem Dei gloriam in spite of the raging of the elements." Colbert sat down in one of the chairs near the table, motioned to his com panion to approach and dry himself, and after seizing a quill and drawing near his elbow the ink-horn and parch ment that lay there ready for use, he commanded the other to relate his story. "1 left Quebec," began the messen ger, for he was none other, "in No vember and reached La Rochelle in January last. The day after landing I was seized with a terrible fever, con tracted on board ship. When I recov ered 1 found that two months had elapsed. I bore with me a insssage from the bishop of Quebec, who, al though not a member of our order, is very friendly to it. I was instructed to deliver it to you in person and to avoid all help from the members of our order in France, so that none would know that the Jesuits in Que bec were communicating with yon. 1 started from La Rochelle penniless and alone. Deprived of the support of my order, 112 was obliged to beg my way. The fever loft me with a running sore upon my leg. By exhibiting this to the pa«sers-by, I was enabled to get the mone,v tp live on. A relapse coa- fined me to bed for another month, when I had arrived within ten leagues af I'aris. I sent you word requesting an Interview; you appointed the lime and place, and here I am." During this recital, Colbert had watched the features of the speaker with a keen gaze, and now and then | made a note of place and circumstance uporj the parchment for future cor roboration. When he had tinished, hvj 6aid coldly: "You have done well. Where is the message?" The man in reply bent down and be gan unwinding a heavy bandage from about his leg. The end reached, a huge open sore was disclosed below the knee. Inserting his little finger within the sore and pressing from the outside with his other hand, a small piece of lead the shape and size of a bullet was squeezed out from the wound. "A safe hiding-place," he remarked, as he carefully wiped it; "besides, it served to keep the wound open and running." Bringing the piece of lead to the light, he pulled the ends apart, which revealed a cavity neatly hollowed out. Within this hole was a piece of very thin oiled silk rolled up into as com pact a mass as possible. Colbert opened it and spread it out. There was nothing visible on it, but he opened a drawer in the table, and, taking out a small flask of liquid, touched the surface of the silk lightly with a drop. Instantly a written word appeared distinctly and then faded away slowly. He seemed to be satis tied at, this, so laying the message upon the table, he arose, and turning to the man asked if he were dry. His companion understood that he was dismissed, so. after bandaging up his leg and muffling his face, he moved toward the door, accompanied by Col bert, who followed him, opening ihe successive doors until he reached the street. When he returned, he reseated him self, and, taking up the bit of silk, be. gan the task of finding out what it contained. As he applied a drop of the secret fluid to each word he quickly wrote it down on parchment before it faded. Word by word he revealed the message until Ihe end. Then putting Ihe original away in a secret place, he took up the copy and read as follows; "The chlefest unions' my friends here have urged me to write this letter to you, promising that a trusty messenger shall deliver it into your hands. They beg me to implore you to use your great power to retard and hinder the plans of the Sieur de la Salle, who is now in France. His projects of colonization and exploration are in direct rivalry to the work of the missionaries, while the ex tension of his fur-trade with the savages takes them out of tlip power and influ ence of the church. Tho fathers desirs to keep the fur-trade to themselves, and feel that ho can do them great Injury. "LAVAL. "Bishop of Quebec." In nearly every land of the then known world, in every court and pal ace, there were stationed secret emis saries of the great Society of Jesus. The minister of many a king, even the servants of the bed-chamber, the cloth-merchant, the innkeeper, the horseshoer, Ihe slavey in tlie kitchen— all were enrolled among the faithful adherents of this mighty order, form ing one of its important sub-divisions. Colbert was one of these. To render strict obedience lie should have placed the welfare of the order above every other consideration. But as has been indicated, the one great impulse of the man's life was ambition, that could tise everything for an aid, but would allow nothing to overshadow it. The Jesuits were a terrible enemy, and a most valuable ally; hence he chose them as the latter, doing what he could to further their plans and win their esteem, so long as it did not interfere with his own projects. A serious clash of the two interests had never arisen before. But now the is sue must be met, for chief among his plans for the glory of France and of her king (and hence indirectly for his own aggrandizement) was the develop ment and exploration of the western wilds of New France. Already were the Dutch and English and Spaniards pressing forward with men and gold, hurrying forth exploring expeditions led by men of courage and resource. He well knew lhat whichever nation first explored the unknown region ad joining the present holding ot France in the New World; he who planted trading-posts and gained the aid and friendship of the savage tribes for his king and country, Wbukl win a conti nent. The dazzling stories of wealth un told to be found in those regions stirred his blood, for he realized that if he could but guide and direct the king in the affairs of colonization to the grand realization of his dream, he would have but to ask, to receive his heart's fondest desire from the hands of a grateful monarch. Upon this pin nacle of power thus gained, Ihe world would forget the wine merchant's son of Rheims in envious adulation. The reins thus placed within his hands, he would be enabled 1O drive rough-shod over his enemies, crushing them be yond recovery. He would be greater even than the king himself, because he would have acquired such unlimited influence over the royal mind and fa vor that it would bo he who would stand within the shadow of the throne, directing wars, dictating peace, up rooting nations, and dethroning kings. To gain this end. he had need of just such men as he knew La Salle to be. It would be he that would reap the benefits of the explorer's efforts if suc cessful; and upon the head of that in trepid man alone would the results of failure fall. Thus lost in the imaginings of fu ture greatness, lie sat until the dim ming of the light warned him of the passage of time. He started up and, quickly secreting whatever papers he had in a hiding-place in the wall, he extinguished the lamp and left the room. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JULY 20, 1905. When hp reached the street he found lay already dawned. The rain had ceased, although it was still gloomy, rhe working people were moving ibout already to begin anew the toil af the day. Colbert, well disguised, walked rapidly along, his mind busy Revising some plan whereby his task masters could be satisfied without in juring his own future purposes. Once he came into sudden collision with a huge fish-wife while turning a corner, who straightway launched at him her choicest stock of Parisian billingsgate, little dreaming that he whom she thus reviled was the second man in the kingdom. CHAPTER VII. CONTAINING SCENES CHIEFLY FEMININE THAT TEND TO PROVE THAT PITY IS AKIN TO LOVE. If the storm brought broken chim ney-pots and puddly streets to the city of Paris, it bore renewed brightness to the flowers and a fresher green to the early summer verdure of the country outside; and to no spot did it bring newer life and greater gladness to flower and shrub than to Choisy Mademoiselle. This princely estate lay about 2 ] /j leagues from Paris on the road to Or leans. The broad Seine flowing past the lowermost of its terraces, the hundred-acre park about the house (a fair expanse of green turf broken here and there by the varied trees and bushes set out by the most famous landscape gardener of the age), the woods on either side trimmed into an exact resemblance of each other, made it seem a veritable glimpse of paradise to the dust-laden traveler as he urged on his tired horse toward the city. This was the favorite summer home of Louise de Montpensier, "Madamoi selle" (or "La Grande Mademoiselle" as she loved to be called), only daugh ter of Gaston, Due d'Orleans, the king's uncle; of her who was the great est heiress in all Europe; who in her early youth had determined to be queen of France, and had endeavored to win her kingly cousin into a closer relationship; who on the destruction of this dream turned her attention to the emperor of Germany; who, at the time of the Fronde, had entered Paris, assumed command, and even turned the guns of the Baslille upon the royal army; who in her day, had repulsed the wooing of Charles 11. of England (then in exile) and voted him a bore; £.nd who ultimately, after refusing an emperor, three reigning rnonarchs, Phillip of France (the brother of Louis), and half a dozen sovereign princes, married a rascally adventurer who forced her to pick up his hat and pull off his muddy riding boots, to show his contempt for her. It was to this shady, restful home that she retired when the heat of sum mer came, to train her hounds, try her English horses, tend her aviaries, row on the river, or watch her flowers. Her other castles and estates stood j' .. y'm I - / v°- . \ I , CHOISY MADEMOISELLE, high as Choisy. So well known was her desire for quiet when she retired there that not even the king himself would have ventured to intrude without a cousinly invitation. Hither came by special favor a few choice spirits, Corneille or Racine to read a new play: Mansard to show her the plans for a new palace he was building for the king (Mademoiselle affected to patron ize the arts); or perhaps a bevy of feminine friends brimming over with gossip of the court- Mademoiselle was by nature a bun dle of contradictions. Understanding politics, she had small capacity for ruling; ostentatious in the distribu tion of her wealth without being char itable; shrewd in judgment, yet so blinded by conceit that all the world looked on and laughed at her folly; of warlike disposition (a hundred times more a leader or a general than her father), yet with a woman's heart, and in her better, softer moments display ing a gentleness truly feminine. Fairly good-looking she was, despite the long Bourbon nose; tall, shapely, with really beautiful hair; eyes blue, mouth firm, and a finely moulded shoulder. She had withal an air of command that bespoke royal blood. She was of the court, courtly; unbend ing only at times and allowing famil iarity in none, save her lady-in-wait ing, or companion as she chose to call her. It.was on this afternoon, when the whole earth was brighter for its plunge-bath of the night before, that a coach of state with outriders turned in from the road and stopped at the main entrance of the house. The foot men descended, the door was opened, and "La Grande Mademoiselle" stepped forth in all the stateliness a queen could show. With this regal air she entered the long gallery, whose satin covered walls were decorated with por traits of her famous and illustrious an cestors. Passing its length, she en tered a small writing-room, beyond which was the door leading to her own private apartments. Opening this noiselessly, she stopped and gazed lonf? and earnestly at some object within. Gradually her expression changed. Her queenliness was gone, gone her majesty, and the womanliness which overcame but seldom her proud im perious nature clothed her as with a different garment. The only occupant of the room was a young girl, barely 19, who reclined in an easy-chair near the open window. She was clcfthed in a white gown of thin silk, with gold stars and leaves in Persian stitch scattered over it; a pale pink sash was tied in a large knot below her bosom. She was tall and slender, with that grace of repose and freedom of action that is only gained by healthful country life. Her hair, light brown and fine of texture, rip pled about her temples in a variety of natural waves, falling over her shoul ders in long ringlets; eyes that showed a brown deeper than that of her hair; soft lashes that partly veiled, partly displayed the glance within; lips thin, playfully curved, yet expressing moral firmness which could pout or pray as her emotion demanded —a natural beauty, unmarred by folly or the de crees of fashion. She was the embodi ment of youthful vigor; vigor of body and health of mind. The soft glow in her cheek and the calm earnest look in her eye, 1 look that knew not evil, neither searched for it in others, both showed that she was not of the court or city. This was mademoiselle's constant companion, Renee d'Outrelaise, only daughter of a noble of Poitou, long of lineage, but poor in purse. The ambi tion of her mother for her daughter's advancement had led her, much against the old comte's wishes, to send her to Paris to an influential friend, in order that she might become attached as lady-in-waiting to one of the royal household. Mademoiselle had seen her soon after her arrival and had taken her as her personal at tendant. Struck by the nobility of thought, and character soon displayed by her protege, she chose to keep her alto gether from the noxious vapors of court life and allow the budding flower to develop uncontaminated within the bounds of her own presence. Her es pecial fear was that her royal cousin, the king, becoming enamored of the freshness of her beauty, should seek to pluck this blossom for his own re freshment as he had so often done be fore. Hence it was that Renee fol lowed her patroness from castle to castle as she in turn visited her dif ferent estates or accompanied her to Paris, where, lodged in mademoiselle's city house, the palace of the Luxem bourg, she remained bidden from all masculine eyes, save those alone whom mademoiselle deemed it prudent to admit. [To Be Continued.] Com pi i men tar y Cont rail let lon. A New York publisher has a repu tation for employing the homeliest stenographers and typewriters in the city. Efficiency rather than beauty is what he wants, and he knows the prettiest ones are not the most efficient. Just the same it is said of him that he doesn't know a pretty woman when he sees one. Still his wife is an un usually handsome woman. Not long ago she came into the of fice, where she appears only at rare intervals, and only when it is absolute ly necessary. She was met. by an of ' fice boy, a bright Irish lad, who had never seen her. She asked for Mr. Blank. "Who shall I say wants to see him, mem?" he inquired. "His wife," replied. He looked at her in open-eyed sur prise and genuine admiration. "Sure, mem. I'll tell him," he said, starting off, "and bad cess to thim that says he has no taste in ladies, mem." —N. Y. Times. Untcil to Do it. Daring the last Congressional cam paisn the candidates for the honor of representing a certain East Tennes see district gathered to meet the vo* lon* at a country court-house. There was a rough-looking old mount-aineei in the audience. He looked over the aspirants on the platform with a critical eye. One of them had done, him several favors, and he felt in duty bound to vote for him. "Not a very promising lot. are they?" ho remarked in an audible whisper to a man three seats away. Them's only tfca kind we used to run for constable when I was a boy. Thar's my candi date—that yaller-headed chap, third from this eend. I've got to vote for him, but I'd give ten dollars if I hadn't seen him first." —Washington Post. Tin* .Minister ami the Willow. The Rev. Samuel Robbins, a brother of the late Rev. Chandler Robbins, of Boston, was noted for his wit. One of his best retorts was made in Fram ingham Center, where 40 years ago he was pastor of the Unitarian church. He had heard that a young widow in his congregation was intending again to enter the matrimonial state, and as he knew her very well lie broached the subject to her. "Yes," she replied, "I feel that my little son Edward needs a father's care." "Oho!" exclaimed Mr. Robbins, "so you're going to get married to 'raise Ned!' " —Boston Herald. An ISxjilh nation. Sir Robert Ball, the noted Ilritish astronomer, went to a remote town in Ireland to lecture on bis favorite topic. Arriving at the station he looked for the expected conveyance, but found none. After all the other passengers, had disappeared a man stepped up and said: "Maybe you're Sir Robert Ball?" After receiving an affirmative reply, tho man hastily apologized, saying: "Sure, your honor, I'm sorry I kept you waiting, but I was told to look for an intellectual goatlemaa,"—Cleveland Plain - I Baicom & Lloyd. I | ====== I | |1 I I til WE have the best stocked p general store in the county and if you are looking for re- U| liable goods at reasonable prices, we are ready to serve p you with the best to be found. M Our reputation for trust- U| H worthy goods and fair dealing Jf 1 ffl is too well known to sell any uj J] but high grade goods. 9 - 1 gj Our stock of Queensware and 0 Chinaware is selected with p f| great care and we have some 1 of the most handsome dishes | 1 ever shown in this section, jj I both in imported and domestic j! | makes. We invite you to visit i us and look our goods over. IJf m 1 n 1 1 3 | § \ Baicom $ Lloyd. I F w w 1 y w hif w w nr w 1 w w if w w w w w w wi r 1 *m. m *Bk *%. Mk xok m *l* m* mt mt *&jk mm *K*%m. m.m. mm* | | U LOOK ELSEWHERE BUT DON'T FORGET || THESE PRICES AND FACTS AT SII LaßAirs I S M H M |< M || We carry in stock ~ . | £ss || the largest line of Car- w UK pets, Linoleums and S/. _ fTiTTn i M E*S Mattings of all kinds Hf J ever brought to this 02E^.<j| 1 Knp£ soabigline Nrt*,, BBmp £1 Avery large line ol FOR. THE £3 Lace Curtains that can- „ m "h&r- COMFORTABLE LOW is Art Squares and of fine books in a choice library £ *! El Rugs of all size.- and select the Ideal pattern of Globe- ** If kind, from the cheap- Wernicke "Elastic" Bookcase. S* F$ est to the best. Furnished with bevel French plate or leaded glass doors. j^| >< Dining Chairs, I &aLE ov I Rockers and GEO. J. LaBAR, High Chair S. I Sole Agent for Cameron County. I fc jj A large and elegant I—. - " .. J £2 line of Tufted and Eg || Drop-head Couches. Beauties :nd at bargain prices. j Ik * -7 ————-———- ft # £2 S3O Bedroom Suits, COC S4O Sideboaid, quar- ffQfi solid oak at 4)ZO tered <ak 4SOU JJf §2B Bedroom Suits, (fOI $32 Sideboard, quar- C)C Ft| solid oak at tered cak * y F* $25 Bed room Suits, Ofi $22 Sideboaid, quar- N solid oak at 4)ZU I tered 0ak,... Mr M A large line of Dressers from I Ch Homers of all kinds and H || $* up. all prices. ||f || - ||i |d The finest line of Sewing Machines on the market, »g the "DOMESTIC" and "ELI RILGE.' All drop- |g! M"* heads and warranted. a A fine line of Dishes, common grade and China, in £2' *2 se ts a "d by the piece. fl As I keep a full line of everything that goes to N make up a good Furniture store, it is useless to enum- M erate them all. || || Please call and see for yourself that lam telling || kg you the truth, and if you don't buy, there is 110 harm y done, as it is no trouble to show goods. •1 GEO. J .LaBAR. » M TJ]NI'DEiFITiII2LI]MO. si r% 2T 112 2 *£3T HZ r *** m ** * it Mt mm ttk m**ma nt A A jt m**m * * m JS&. a%m. m a
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers