ilUBTiTiimimgl J mmmm - 1 i V OIL. ,11 in r i it i t B. P. SCHWEIER, TEE O0IBTITU TIOI-THE TJHOI-AJD THE UTOEOEKUT OP TIE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XL. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. MARCH 31, 18S6. NO. 14. liifctfet ID ilyPWWllyl!!' WWII' i I i ( s I h'- Questions. We question of the silence vast. Of souls that people distant spheres; What of their future and their past? Have they our sorrows, joys and fears? DO the fUTIli flnTO!-a ... 1- ..1 .. 1 ., : . TLe same bird sine? On their great seas " ours, wim canvas white. Move stately, answering the breeze? We know the hand lhat holds in check The whirling worlds, each in its course, And saves the universe from wreck And peril; this mmeBdons Force Holds likewise all our little lives; The suns and stars do an obey His bidding never planet strives To swerve from its appointed way. The dangerous boon alone to us Is Eiven to choose 'twist ill and well, Kebeliion or obedience thus To build our heaven, or dig our hell. But one great thouglitourstrengta upholds; Xothing shall perishl Though His rod Smites sore, His mercy still enfolds His own God's soul are safe with God. 'IX TIMES OF TROUBLE.' We grew up side by side, Madeleine Constant and I Antonio Michaeli. I was an orphan w hen ten years old, and was sent from Italy to my Aunt Peron. I had then I have now all the faults and some of the good qualities of the Italian nature. I saw Madeleine for the first time one autumn evening when I had wan dered away in disgust and bitterness. I had been a witness to a quarrel be tween my cousins about a franc, In which quarrel they lauached against each other every coarse epithet it was possible to think of, and finally turned on rue because I would not take part in the matter. I left them contemptu ously, and wandered across the field to the Chateau, and stood for a while at the gate. I often paused there, look ing at the costly entrance and well kept avenue, at the stately trees and distant castles, which seemed so lordly and powerful. As I stood there that day, Madeleine came out with a basket on her arm. She looked so good, so joyous that at once I set her in my mind in contrast to the two ill-bred curs 1 had Just left. The basket seemed heavy; she set it down a moment outside the gate to rest "Shall I carry it for you?" I said quickly stepping up to her. She looked up and smiled. "Thank you," she answered; '"I shall be very glad." "Where shall I go?'' I asked, as I walked by her side. "To the little cottage by the real as you turn to the village. I am Made leine Constant," she added. "I thought you must know me, for I've seen you several times. You are the Italian who came to live with the Ferons?" I nodded. We walked on silently for a while, but 1 did not care for this I wanted to bear ber talk her voice sounded pleasant and soft. I never was shy with man or woman. "What have you in the basket?" "Things they have een me at the Chateau for my sick sister." "Do you like to accept alms from rich people. I know my eyes flashed I was al ways so proud. She looked at me with surprise. "They are very good to nie at the Chateau; I love Mademoiselle Adele: why should a be angry at their kind ness to poor Hortense?" Terhaps I had i a sneering expression; Madeleine flush' ed. arSl added, "I don't live on what they give me; I work very hard; every one knows I work hard." I felt ashamed of myself, and very sorry for having hurt the poor girL We were scarcely more than children; but suddenly I felt a man's contempt for my own cowardice in wounding her by a word. "I beg your pardon," I said; "of course, if they care for yon, It's ail right; but I hate the nobles." "Why?" Her large eyes looked at me in won derment. "They are cruel and unjust; they think us dogs to kick, beat, or starve; and what have they done?" Ab, they do many good things I Mademoiselle Adele, she is kind to all, and the old count, he is not cruel, I'm sure; he looks good; and he loves his son and daughter. I smiled at her ignorance. "You don't know; you are petted at the Chateau because you are pretty and harmless. The count is cruel; he turn ed old Francois Lorraine from his home the other day; he struck him too, in a rage. I suppose the young count will be like his father." Madeleine's face clouded. "I am very sorry if this is true, very sorry." "You are only a girl, of course; you don't know; and I'm glad they are kind to you." It was pleasant to me to be with this girL I remember wishing that I had a aster. When we came to the cottage, Made leine asked me to come and see Hor tense, and I went in; and I think I sat quite an hour with the poor cripple. She was a woman who bad read and thought a good deal, and she seemed wonderful to me, for I supposed in my foolish youth that women knew noth ing. Many and many an evening after that I worked in the garden with Mad eleine. When fine, Hortense was lift ed out and talked to us; when it grew cold she watched us from the window Those were happy days. I was an iron-worker, and I had an inventive brain; night after night I used to lie awake planning machinery. It was the dream of my life to perfect a ma chine, the first crude notion of which had flashed Into my mind one day in the furnace-room. After I knew Mad eleine, the joy of telling her when I was successful was added to my dream. There was one little difficulty m my in vention which I could not get over; for months and mouths it haunted me. It was one cold moonlit night in Decem ber, as I lay in b?d lookinsr out at the clear frosty sky, that the difficulty van ished. Suddenly, as clearly as possible I saw how my invention could be work ed out in its entirety. I sprang cut of bed the others were fast asleep and in the cold moonlight worked out my scheme roughly with pencil and paper. I think I never had such a moment of triumph as on that night. Of course 1 kept silence on the subject; I had never made my cousins my confidants thank Heaven, I had too sharp a wit for that! They had dis covered how often I was at Madeleine's cottage, and had anfu3ed themselves by calling me a gay cavalier; but I took no notice of them. . . Coining homo from work one day, rather radiant perhaps, beaa use that morning I liad quite compleTd "? m' vention, and worked it all out, as clear ly as I could, without actual practical experiments, Jean and Francois met me. I looked bright, I suppose; I meant to goto Madeleine's that evening. Jean the coarser of the two; stopped when he saw me. ''Tiens," he said; "are you going to your fair lady? Some men have strange taste. How many smiles does she spare you from the young count?' And then he added something coarser, mora in accordance with his brutal thoughts. Something in my face, I suppose, made Francois say quickly 'Leave the lad alone, Jean. What is it to us?" I laughed a short scornful laugh. "Do you think any word you can utter could hurt Madeleine Constant, or any one else?" I said disdainfully. "Your remarks are as worthless as the mud on the road!" He turned to strike me; but Fran cois Interfered. M?fons." ha said; "two to one is too much;" and he dragged him away. What extraordinary spirit of gentle ness had fallen on Francois that night I know not. And I? Though I had cast off their accusations against Mad eleine scornfully, as unworthy of no tice, I stood there, that winter evening, a changed man; a demon had entered into me. Suspicion had been roused in my soul by Jean's hateful words. Hith erto, throughout the quiet months that had passed, I had loved 'Madeleine ten derly and gently; my affections had grown from day to day;I thought proud ly of the time when J could earn enough money to ask her to be my wife; and I could take care of Horteuse. I was too young, too hopeful perhaps to doubt or understand life and its possibilities: I was but twenty-one. Oa this even ing my love for Madeleine was changed it was by no means so simple, so trust ful, or boyish as heretofore. I remem bered now how frequently Madeleine went to the Chateau, and how hapav she looked when she returned. All my simple dreams vanished. If Madeleine could be dazzled by a selfish dissipated noble,' I was too proud to j wisn to marry her. ibis did not pre vent my loving her. Oh, no; I never loved her so fiercely as at that moment! Love her, shield her, work for her I would, as I was manly enough to do for any weak creature; but marry her? I little imagined how the evil thoughts in me would distort ber simplest word or action. I went home, or rather to the only roof I could then call home. I took my week's wages from my pocket and laid them ou the table before Madame Peron. Thank Heaven' I said, "I owe you nothing and I leave you to-night for ever!" She looked at me in bewilderment, and ber miserly face took a more than usually unpleasant expression. "farceur," she said, with a laugh. you are not going to leave us?'' I answered no woid. I gathered all my property together there was not much and left the bouse. I went to the blacksmith's he wa3 a friend of mine, and I slept there that night Through all my short life I had never been beaten down by trouble, have never allowed disappointment or bitter thoughts to swamp me. In the morning I went to the iron-works as usual, and I asked permission to see the master that night before I left. "Well, Michael," he said abruptly, a complaint, I suppose? Be as quick as you can; 1 am pressed lor time." "2s o, monsieur," I answered, "no complaint; and not less than half an hour will suffice me to explain all I wish," He looked at me with surprise, took out bis watch, saw the hour, and said, laying his watch before him "Very well half an hour exactly." I took my drawings from my pocket. I knew that many a master availed himself of the brains of his workmen, appropriated their inventions, and left them to starve; but I had to risk this. I told Monsieur Bounard of my inven tion. He gave me no praise at first; but be gave me full attention, going over and over everything and master ing my scheme completely. At the end he said "Leave me your drawings. I think your idea is good. I'll see you to-morrow evening." Then he dismissed me. I went back to the blacksmith's; I did not go near Madeleine; something held me back. I could not be quite the same with her yet. I wanted to think. Perhaps. If I had some news to tell her, she would not notice the change in me. The next evening I was summoned to Monsieur Bounard 's office again. "Well," he said, leaning back in his chair and looking at me with a smile as I stood, cap in hand, beside hiro, "your invention is clever, very clever, and must be tried. If it should suc ceed, what do you expect me to do for I answered without a moment s hes itation "Send me to Taris, give me a year's instruction at the best school of engi neers there, and provide for me during that time. Is it too much to ask, sir?" He smiled again. "Is that all you want? You are modest. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll send you to Paris at once, before I know whether your Invention succeeds or not. If it falls, you return here and give me your time and skill in whatever capa itv I find you most useful; if it suc ceeds, you shall have a fair share of the profits.' Are you satisfied?" "More than satisfied, monsieur; I am very gratef uL "The agreement shall be properly drawn up and signed before witnesses. ou can start for Paris at the end of the week. Now I must say good even ing." I passed out of the office feeling dazed and strange. At last I was indepen dent: at last I could stand alone! I was to liave education perhaps wealth! Ah, I was more than a match for Count Horace, the idle, useless aristocrat! I walked straight to Madeleine's cot tage. It was dark when I got there. For a moment I fancied I saw a face at the window, watching for me, and my heart gave a bound. Probably It was only fancy. I grew calm again as I walked in, and I thought of the count. Madeleine was alone. She came for ward eagerly. "We did not know where you had gone: we thought you were never com ing back; we heard you had left Madame lcroo " "I am here." I said, laughing "not gone far as yet. But bow is Hortense?" 'Rather worse; she is in bed." "Shall I not see her? I had much to tell her." "Yea, come to her; she Is not asleep. " We went into the next room, where she lay. She was very white, and her eyes loosed levensu. "Ah, Antonio," she said gently, "we nave missed youi What has gone wrong mon garcont" sue asked. "I could stand my precious cousins no longer, ana we have parted." louare not like yourself some how," she said, looking at me keenly "Am I not? Hany things have bap pened, and I have much to think of. At tne ena or tue wees I'm going away." I saw that Madeleine gave a little start. "I am going to Palis to be educated as an engineer. Monsieur Bounard is sending me." "Ah," Madeleine said eagerly, "he thinks you clever! I knew you would do great things. I am so glad you are going." I looked at her. I thought, "She giaa i snouia go she does not care she will have the count to console her.' " X es, I am glad to work," I said gravely; "but I am sorry to leave you OOlll I looked at Madeleine. She said noth ing. Hortense spoke again. "The cottage will be dull without you. We talked all three a little loneer. Madeleine telling me bow the frost had blighted some of our favorite plants. Aiier a wnue Hortense grew drowsy and we crept silently into the kitchen. Then I drew my chair near Madeleine's and we sat close to the fire, and in the dim light I told her of my invention; wnicu sne was to keep secret, and bo - i nopea some day to be rich. Jiaaeieine," 1 said quickly, "you can paint flowers beautifully, and know that in Paris women make a great deal of money by painting fans for the rich ladies. Why should not you and Hortense come to Paris and live there? I should be near you, and you would have more money could give Hor tense more comforts. And I," I added timidly "I would help: I would work for both of you, if you would let me." "Ah, you are good!'' she said gently; and theie were tears in tier eyes. Then she was silent. "Well," I said, almost harshly, "will you do this?" "I don't think I could Antonio, f jr several reasons." "Tell me some; tell me alL "I think Hortense would piue In a town, away from our little garden, and I don't know if 1 could earn enough; it would be so uncertain, and I should not like to be a burden to you. though you are as a brother to me. I can al ways work for Mademoiselle Adele, ana x sr.ouia not wish to leave her." She bad kept the most important rea son until the last. Always the Chateau and its hated owners!" 'You accept gifts from nobles, not from me I" I said angrily, "lou pre fer Mademoiselle Adele and the young Count to your equals! No good can ever come of it; they'll forget you abandon you when it suits them." . "You are unkind!" she said flushing. "ILey are very good to me so are vou, I don't prefer them; but I think it best to stay here." I was calm again in a minute; but the thought of the count did not leave me. "I suppose it is the last time we shall be here together for some time;" I said "Jf you should ever waut me, Made leine, you can learn where I am from Monsieur Bounard lie would send a letter to me. One can never tell what may happen. Don't trust your friends at the Chateau too much; they are not like us; they don't understand us. Some day you'll find they don't," She did not answer; she paced by my side with bent head. I could not stay there; I was losing my self-possession. I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her how much I loved her, but what was the good of it? "Good-bye, Madeleine," I said quick ly, roughly. "Remember, if you want me, I'll always do anything for you anything in the world; but but you don't want me, are not likely to want me." A year passed. People did not write often in those days. I had one letter from Madeleine, and I went back to Lanon once for a day. I thought Mad eleine changed. The old count was dead, and I heard for I asked about him that the young count bad been seen at the cottage, and that the vil lagers looked askance at Madeleine. I could not stay at Lanon; the life of my mauhooi was in Paris now. Later on we were like wild beasts in Paris and elsewhere; but we were goad ed enough. Heaven knows! I was hand in glove with many of the leaders, feel ing that we were all heroes and that the future of France depended on us. It was in August, when Paris was beginning to seethe In an appalling manner, that, coming home one even ing to my poor room, I found Made leine Constant. I had thought her safe in the country, hadfelt glad she was there, every time I tad seen the women of Paris transformed into fiends, though I bad pitied them, I shrank from the sight, and rejoiced that Madeleine was unlike them, and in safety. Now she was in their midstl 1 was so shocked to see her that I did not feel glad to look on her sweet face; and she, poor child. thought me so stern tnat sue Durst into tears. When I had quieted her.she told me all. Hortense was dead, the Til lage was very disturbed, and people were rude ana unKina to ner. "You told me whenever I wanted you I was to say so," she said timidly. "Yes," I answered, "and I'm ready to help you; but you don't know that Paris is quite an unui piace lor you Hva in now. tnat It erows worse snu worse every day. I must take you to some quiet village where you will be safe." "Oh. don't send me awayi i nave no one belonging to me; let me stay here and work." "There are Iittla work and little bread in Paris; but I won't forsake you Madeleine." iTow warm it was that August even- ins! And the noises in the streets were ominous enough to those who under stood them, but Madeleine talked of old days and told me how poor Hortense died; and it felt like youth and happi ness to see ner iace. Bv-and-bv I thought of old Miuame Therese. and resolved to take Made- 1 n. 1 - A.1 leine to ner. sue wouia do who mere at present. The old woman was Kind ly, had just lost ner caugnier, auu needed some one to take ber place. Events lit in sometimes In a strange wav. and it was fated that iiaaeieine should be near me through the tragic months that followed. ', The jour de Van of 1793 was not mucn of a jour dl fete. The king Vas in prison, and many of us knew wuat his end would be. I tried to fceep tjjftbor rors of Taxis as much as posaibtrom Madeleine. We did not talk often of the political crisis. Such peace did not last long. Com ing home one day, I met Mademoiselle Adele and Count Horace not far from Madeleine's door. I stared at them for a moment, now long had they been in xarisr iiau Madeleine deliberately conceaiea tneir presence from me? Was this the reason she had come to mer The count and his sister. stopped and spoke to me. i stood with uncovered ueaa, dui to tne count l Knew my air was aenanr. "We have been to see . Madeleine," he said. "We do not forget old friends. " "juonsieur le Comte," I replied, "you bad better not come bere. The days when the poor could be patronized are gone Dye; feeling is too bitter be tween classes in Paris, and I should feel gratef ul if you would keep a fool from us." The count's brow clouded. "We mean well and kindly, and it is ior -Mademoiselle Madeleine to say whether she wishes to see us or not." "She came to me for care and pro tection; but it shall be as she decides." 1 bowed to Mademoiselle Adele and passed on. I went at once to Made leine. "Connt Horace has been here," I said coldly. "Do you wish him to come?'i She flushed; but her truthful eyes looked full into mine. "He comes with his sister; I cannot prevent his coming." "I can. Say that you wish him not to come, and you shall never see his face again," "Antonio, d not quarrel with the count. What harm can he do me?" "What harm?" I repeated. "Why do you pretend that he did not cause you to be evil-spoken of at Lanon. cause many to turn their backs on you? He must not do that here. Thingswe not as they used to be, and in Paris we can avenge ourselvesquickly on the nobles." Probably I looked murderous in my rage; I know I felt it. Madeleine turned very white and clung to me. I was brought up with the count and his sislerl You would not hurt any one I love, Antonio?" I pushed her away gently. "If you love them." I said coldly. "let them come and take the conse quences. I have no right to prevent it. 1 ou knew they were in Taris?'' I added. "Yes." I turned away and went out My days of peace was over. I often met the count or his sister near where Mad eleine lived. I knew she worked for Mademoifelle Adele; and took work home to her; but I never interfered 1 was too proud. Madame Theresa spoke to me one day; she did not like this noble coming about the house the neighbors said unpleasant things. 1 grew very bitter. The months went bv, and I learnt I had means of knowing things that the count's life was In danger. A part ly generous, a partly triumphant feel ing took possession of me I would speak to him. I went to bis house and asked to see him. When Count Horace came into the room where I awaited him, I noticed that his lackey lingered. "1 wish to speak to Monsieur le Comte alone." He gave a quick distrustful glance around. You can speak before Hubert; he is always with me." So the count was a co .rani I I smiled slightly. "As you wish, monsieur," I replied. "I have reason to think." I continued that your life is in some danger. These are troubled times. It would be well that you should leave Paris if you can, and take mademoiselle with you." He became white with rage. "And how do you know my life is in danger? Are you one of the scoun drels who plot to destroy the live3 of your betters? Well, the time is not yet come when ire all obey the will of cainnlM I shall leave Pans when it suits me. Hubert," he added, turning to his lackey, "showthl3man, tie- door." I bowed, and smiled again, for I knew the count was afraid, in spite of his in solence. But time went by, and Count Horace lived on. Heads fell with ever increas ing speed. Often, though he knew it- not, 1 shielded tne count ana nis sister. And still they went to Madeleine, and she went to them, and I spake no word, I had a strange feeling that time would right things, but that the moment had not yet come. Madeleine's gentie, frank eyes disarmed my jealousy from day to day. One day Madame Therese drew ms aside, and told me that the count had come day after day dressed as a work man, and that she ieit sure ne iriguten- ed Madeleine, for she was always weep ing, pawn vnrant Then my lunous jealousy burst out. I waited In all next day till I saw him come, I follow ed him. I saw him go to Madeleine's room. I listened; I beard him tempt her; I heard her reproach him with havini ruined her reputatidb and made the neighbors scoff at ber, with having caused me her m d 'tnfanct to de spise her, and with having rendered her life utterly miserable lor ever. I could bear no more. I rushed into the room. Ah 1" I cned. "At last I have found you, Monsieur le Comte, at your vil hany! At last I see you unmasked! Here we are equals; you must take the conseauence of the disguise you have assumed; you are but a eitoyen like my self." He looked livid with fear; and, see- ring him cast a glance of terror behind me, I turnea ana saw two or mrce heads appearing at the door, lhey were my comrades, who had heard my angry words and had followed me; but they were also red revolutionists and the count's enemies. "To the Jmntcnvl" one of them cried. The count was an abject terror, but 1 e had some wit left. He masked his fear as well as be could, and spoke "Why, should you be enraged with me, titoyensl" he said, with a ghastly attempt at a smile. "Am I not proving myself of the same opinion as your selves? I wear your dress. I am asking mademoiselle to be my wife." A burst of laughter greeted thU statement. "This is no time for marriage," one of the men exclaimed. "And lacitoytn im Madeleine would not marry a scoun drel of a noblel" 1 had been silent. The most perfect vengeance seemed put Into my hand, the most triumphant restoration of Madeleine's honor. I hesitated only for an instant "Well," I said calmlv. turning to the man who had spoken, "hit the count prove that ho is sot lyingJ" Then, in a V low whisper, so low that no one caught the words but the men behind me "And afterwards?" I hissed through my teetn. Madeleine had never spoken, She kept looking at me in a terrified man- ner. "But we will , ask la citoyenne her wishes. Madeleine," I said quietly, win you marry wis man?" Fool, madman that I was, I did not Eee that the poor child thought that to refuse was to rive this man to death! For a second she stood with her hands clasped, looking at him, looking at m e with terror in her poor gentle eyes, in ber blanched face.' But the blood was In my head; I could not understand, "Answer!" I said sternly. One more glance at me, the meaning of which I was such a dolt that I could not read, and then she said, with tol erable firmness "Yes. I will marry him." I glanced at my comrades; they had quite understood my diabolical scheme. In those wild days men never waited for events; what they willed they exe cuted with all speed. Before the even ing Madeleine was Comtesse de Valla. She was hurried home then, and the connt was taken away. She asked no questions; she thought she bad saved this man and done her duty. She never saw his face again. Before two days had passed she was a widow; and it was my task to tell her and Mademoiselle Adele of the count's death. I felt my revenge was too complete when 1 broke the news to them. They wept in each other's arms, and I thought she mourn ed her lover. I did not tee much cf the two girls after this, although they were my daily thought and care. After some time I got them out of Paris. Things had quieted down at Lanon, and, though the interior of the Chateau was wreck ed, no one opposed their going thither and it was the best place for them. They never suspected that I had been connected with the count's death. More than a year had passed away. The carnage was at an end, and the people of France had yielded them selves to a leader. We wera in the garden, Maleleiue and I ; and she had been talking of our young day?, of Hortense, of our good bye in the little garden on that winter uiaht. Her eyes were alight with the sweetest expression, and she held my hand. I rose to my feet suddenly, ana my bldod seemed to turn co'.d and cur dle in my veins. Madeleine," I faid aud her name half choked me "yoa must know ail the truth it is time. I cannot sit by your side or touch your hand till you know all: 1 have loved you passionate ly since we were boy and girl together; but my Italian blood runs hot in my veins. These infamous cou3ins of mine were the first to make me distrust you. I thought, boy though I was at the time, that you were flattered by the count's attentions and loved him; so I would not speak. I paused; but Madeleine sai 1 not a word. There was a soft fh'sU cn her chetk and a strange look of happiness in her cyts. v hat did it mean.' "OIi, how I loved you all through that fever in Paris! But I knew you had only a sister's Iov. to give me. When the count came, I left you free. 1 was too proud to interfere. If you loved him. how could 1 help it? 1 w.ts only a pjor workman; he was a great noble." Before I could say another word, she rose to her feet, her eyes full of tears "Ah, my well-beloved," she exclaim ed, with a sob, "I have never loved but you!" Then she bent towards me, as though to lay her head uion my shoulder. "Wait a little," I said; "you must bear the end. I was outside the door oa the last day the count was with you the day of your marrigae. I heard what he said. I knew he wanted to be tray you to sacrifice you. I thought in my madness he bad already done so, and I was possessed by a fiend. I swore to myself that he should do you justice, that you should be legally his wife. Well, it was done, but you did not hear the words that I spoke to the men be hind me. They were only two little words "And afterwards?' Do you un derstand?'' I continued savagely. "You kuow what Paris was in those days, and how death walked the streets ready for any one. He was waiting for Count Horace, was ready wheu he beckoned. Do you understand?" I repeated. "The count died, your good name was re trieved, and I was avenged P A great silence fell on us both. How long it lasted I knew not. It was Mad eleine who broke it; she spoke quickly, feverishly "You planned the count's death! I can't believe it Ycu pretended to save Lim when you knew he was to die! Did you not see how 1 trusted to you to cave him? He and Adele bad been kind to me all my life. I had lived near them, and he was betrayed through me at the last I it is horn Die 1 vvhat did it matter if he wanted to le my lover and tempted me? He was far above ne and only offered what thousands of men offer poor girls. How dared you think that I would yield to him? Was I not as pure, as good as any girl? You you who were the companion of my child hood and knew me and Hortense, you were as evil-minded as any of the vil lage gossips! You ycu whom I al ways loved!" She burst into a passion of tears. I approached her; how could I help it? I touched her band. "Oh. MaJeleine, if had but known you loved me if I had but known!" She sprang away from mo, and her tears seemed all dried up by the fire of her eyes. "1) not touch me, do not come near me; your love is base, is not the love of a man, but of a fiend! To know that the count was going to his death when he married me; to gain position, wealth for me, and kill him afterwards! I never loved him; I married him because I thought it my duty to save the family which had protected me all my life; and you stood by and never sooke a word to stop me. How did I kuow you loved me? I was alone in the world all I knew was that jou distrusted rae. How did I know? Aud then and then you came when the count was dead, and we thought you so good and kind ah!" "I do not defend myself," I said, in the sunken voice of despair. "The love which ought to have made me a gool man made me a cruel one. Only one thing I will say before I go; though I longed for the count's death, and gave the" word for It to my comrades that day, I honestly say that he would have perished whether or no. At the last I did make an effort to save him; but then he wuld not trust me it was but natural 1l .1 he went to bis doom. FarewelMadelelne, my one love, fare- welit Ifmy aeatn oy iaw wui djiuw your sense of justice, I'll give myself up. or you can denounce me. What does it matter which way death comes?" "Xo; no," she said auickly; "I'll not accuse yoa; hundreds might be accused of these massacres. I will not even tell Adele, only go now, and go forever let me never see your face again, let me try to forget Ob, Heaven, if I could forget!" I turned away from her, and she from me. I wandered int- the woods, and many honrs passed. The sun was dying down, calm and beautiful, and I sat there, knowing that I too was go ing to my rest My mind was made up, life was over what view or end had it ever had apart from Maleleine? I rose to :ny feet, a sudden glory seeming to be upon me; then I covered my face with in7 hands, and strong man though 1 was, I sobbed. At last the paroxysm iiased, and somehow I felt that this was the end of earthly emotion for me, before the morrow's sun set all would be at an end. A great calm fell on me. I remember happy childish scenes; I had no bitter thought of any one; the peace of death seemed on me. Just a little longer I would sit there, til darkness had crept over the woods and fields, and th?n I would go. "Go to rest in my. grave!" I sail aloud, very calmly, very gently. Suddenly arms were around me; suJ denly tears were on my cheek, and a torrent of scarcely articulate words was in my ear. "Xo, no, Antonio; take me I for give you all. You loved me! Lst usgo away from this to-night; let us never fee this place again. I am not really a countess; I'll leave everything, I'll give up everything. Take me away, taki me away!" After a moment of cuzeJ uncertain ty, myarm3 were round her, my lip3 touched hers. "My love, ray love!" I inurmurel. So tins was tUs end! I went that night, not to the re.st of the grave, but to life and joy. There was darkiieia all around, but liht in our hearts. Sl'X.S AM) MKTEOItS. Tiieir Numbers Their lislain-os - Their Velocities. aud Taking first the exteusion of the evi dence giren by the sun to bodies no longer suns, wo see that what has bseo already suggested in other ways is con firmed by the evidenoe of tiie actual eruptive power possessed by the huh. We eoe tliat millions of years ago, wheu Jupiter and Saturn wore active sans, they probably possessed the power o! ejecting flights of bodies from their ia- t'.-rior 09 the sun does now, and many millions of years ago, when onr earth and her fellow terrestrial planets were snuiike bodies, they were similiarly ac tive (eidi in its decree). For it is, f course, t bnou3 that though a body like Jupiter would hare nothing like the sun's eruptive energy (in amount,) snch an orb would need nothing like that euory to tj :ct matter from its interior never to return. So with globe like onr earth. TLo sua most ject a body with a velocity of 331 nii:es per second that it may never return to him; and Jupitor would h--V9 to impart a velocity of aboct forty miles per secoud to ro j -ct forever a mass erupted from his in terior; bat in the case of our earth a Telocity of st-ven ruilcs per second would suffice to carry ejtiited matter forever away from her (apart, of co:irse, from the chauca of eobseqeent capture by ac cidental encounter with the parent orb, whoso course the track of the ejected mass would always thereafter approach or inteisect.) Mow, thongh no volcanie explosions which at present take place ject bodies frm the earth with any thing like this velocity, vet remember ing the intense activity of an orb in the euulight Btago, as compared with the energies of the life-bearing stage, we see that even epart from the evidence given by solar explosions, and from the subsidiary evidence given by the meteoric paths, we might safely infer that the volcanio outbursts taking place during our earth's snn-like stage were probably quite sufficiently intense to eject matter forever from her interior. It' such an explosion ai that of KraVa toa can take place now, outbursts of the mightier sort necessary for meteor jectioa may well hrve occurred when the earth was a small sun. We have Bimilar actual evidence even in the case of the giant planots;for, whatever theory may be formed of the great red spot on Jupiter, there can be no doubt that a disturbance effecting an area nearly as large as the whole surface ot tne earin, and lasting seven years in full activity, implies mo3t tremendous energies when Jupiter was in tho son-like stage of his career. tuaiiH Old Uevoliilionarj- Documents Oao of the most interesting libraries in Washington is that connected with the State department I spent nearly half a day there poring over the quaint old revolutionary documents, foreign treaties, etc. Toere in a double locked case is kept the original constitution of the country. It was shown me by Mr. Dwight, bat I noticed he kept his eye on me very closely, as if afraid I woull snip off a yard or two with a pair of scis sors There, too, are all the proclama tions from every president the State papers of every secretary, and the Ben Frankliu documeBts recently purchased ii LonJon for SS3.000. The Declara tion of Independence, with its fading ink and world renowned signatures, is here jealously preserved. Oae ol the most unique papers is the oath of allegiance taken at Valley Forgo. It is signed by Oeorge Wash ington, B2nediot Arnold, i3ivibe, Steuben, Lafayette, and every soldier in the army. Tiiere, too, is the pathetic letter from Andre to Washington beg ging that his might be a soldier's, not a spy s aeatn. auo ioreixu ireaues are curious, especially those of Turkey, Japan and China, with their gold writ ing and huge seals The surgeon gen eral's library, which is in Ford's old theatre, is said to be the most complete collection of medical works in the world. The catalogue now being issued has only reached "H," and it already U'.U six volumes eaca as large as Web ster's dictionary. "Auxt Ellex, what does it mean to honor thy father and thy mother that thy day3 may be long in the land?' "Why, Carl, it means to obey them al ways aud do just what you know they would wish yon to Co, whether you aro with them or where they cannot see you." Ana now mucn longer wouia the days ber" " nat uo you mean?" 'Why; I wouldn't have to go to bed at g o'clock the same as I do now, would BAVAUIA S KINO. A Komantic Ruler of Odd and traragant Tastes. ! All reports agree that the present king , of Bavaria, Ludwig II., is an extreme ly , eccentric and extravagant gentleman ol a most romantic turn of mind, even ex ceeding in kingly oddity his royal grand father, Ludwig I. There have doubt less been a great many false tiles toll about .the astonishing freaks of Kin Ludwig II., but it will be admitted by all who glance at the picture of the won derful sleigh in which he is accustomed to take an airing that simplicity of style; ana an aversion to royal display are not among nis virtues, it anytnuig more elaborately gorgeous has ever been moun ted on runners than this winter carriage of Bavaria's king, no record has been kept of the fact And this Is only one of a coach-house full of sleighs, the gor geousnera of which furnishes a theme for the gossip of Munich, while in ac tion they are at once the admiration ami terror of the peasantry of the surround ing country as they dash through it at full speed, the royal jiasoeiiger within taking his pleasure alone after his cu rious fashion. It is no secret that tlit owner of this bewildering "turn-out" k to-day hopelessly bankrupt, and that the wisest men in his kingdom are rackina their brains to discover means to extri cate him from his difficulties, and t: prevent him from ruining every UU else. Propriety under these circumstan ces, would sewn to indicate something a triile less magnificent than this chariot on runners as suited to the king's sleigh riding demands, but propriety h;w nevei played a conspicuous part in the lives ol the Ludwig "s of Bavaria. The present monarch's taste for sumptuous vehicle? is naturally connected with the report that he is about to marry nioriranat;- cauy a widow ot a carriage builder i. .Nuremberg. King Ludwig was born in 14.-. and has thus far had a merrv life of it. In addition to hisvorv evident advanta-'f of birth, he was favored bv nature will a handsome face and commanding limine. More than six feet m height, with veil proportioned limbs, broad shoulders. with a well shaped head, covered witl clustering black ringlets, he was common consent acknowledged t!u handsomest man in all his kingdom. i nere are many artists hero m .New York, who, while lx-runing their studii-; at Munich, frequently saw the yuiiiip kins' and tliev all agree a most unusiui occurrence amoiig Xew York artists, l the way) that he was, eiht or ten yvar ago, an extremely dashing and han-I some young gentleman. At that timt his exeeentricities or extravagances were not as marked asthev have since bccoi and he might lie seen on any pleasant atternoon strolling down Lttdwigstru.- the finest street in Munich) with a ver tall silk hat perched on his he-ad, ami fashionably cut overcoat (lapping In ti breeze ; for lie always walked fast, and with a rolling theatrical motion like that of a pompous tragedian surprised nib haste, lie invariably carried a slcmlei walking stick, and bowed affably to i v- crylxHly he met. It was in those uav that the influence of Wagner over tin young king was most pronounced a:i influence which it will 1- reineinljere-l was at one time so stronirlv resented bv the king's subjects in Munich that tin great musician's life was placed in jii- IKinly by the fury of a mob. ('lithe root ot his splenilnl palace it Munich the king caused to 1k construe ted a miniature lake bordered with over hanging and sweetly scented shruhlicry. An artificial sky. containing ahiuiinoii moon which could le made to rise or set formed a canopy over the lake, render ing any interruption of the king's pli-a-sure by wet or stormy weather impossi ble. It was (and Is said still to be.) 1 1 1 king's delight to float out upon the pla cid surface of this romantic bath tnb ii a luxurious gondola, and there surroun ded by a bevy of stately white swans which had been trained to rest contiu ually in this little pond, to listen to aria: from his favorite opera sung by son; famous prima domui who had lieet placed in hiding behind the ImkisIisoi the water's edge. It Ls records! that or the occasion of one of these Keats-night ingale concerts, the fair singer, doubt less m her anxiety to reach a high note, pushed over tho enormous do wer-pot le hind which she was crouching, ami tumbled head first into the pond, anc the king gallantly rescued her, and af terward presented her with a tmusseai more extensive tlian that of any btide U atone for the injury that had been dont to her gown by the indigo with which in order to give it a deep sea-like color, the pond had tieen richly salted. 1 here is no denying that the presen! King of Bavaria has done much to ad vance the cause of music, and that U his extravagant enthusiasm is due t lie fact that Munich is t onlay a musical a: well as an acknowledged art center, bui at the same time it cannot be deniet that his methods have been and are al least questionable, and his extra vaganct ruinous For many years it has beet the delight of this romantic sovereign t( take possession of the Koyal Opera houst and insist uon the giving of a complete owratic performance for his own exclu sive delectation, aying handsomely foi the fun. On such occasions the audito rium is darkened, and no one save tin performers and the king is permit ted to enter the building. The king, having established himself in son it comer of the great house, where none ol those engaged upon the stage can see him the performance begins. In the construction of his two new castles in the mountains between Mun ich and Olierammergan the same reek less extravagance lias been shown by tin king that characterizes all his acts, aud the people of his kingdom are left it wonder how the bills will tie jmid, anti what the king will do next His debt now amount to St,000,UUO ; and his most recent freaks have been such, in th opinion of his subjects, as to pass tin line that sciKiratcs eccentricity froir downright insanity. Ages will come and go: but wonm will not be perfectly happy until sht can have eyes attached to her shoulders, so that she may look up and criticise her own back hair. Teacher. "Now, Master Kirby. j ou should le mora correct in youi composition. You say 'I love schoof Now school cannot be loved. Can't you use a more correct expression?" . Master Kirby "I hate schooL" Little George had been kept ia the house after his mother's funeral, as a mark of respect for the dead.but natur ally grew tired of the seclusion. "Pa, may I go out and play tc-day ?': he anxionslv innnirwl "Xn fienralo ' iVwverdo'to STZtT. t JltalianmasterT died? taste has changed, and modern pictures are large'y purchased tor the collection. NEWS IX BRIEF. Paris has named a street alter Dar win. Nevada is being drained of beef cattle, There are 5C0 baskets of peaches la a car load. Steel nails are taking the place ot iron one3. A Greenland whale's heart is a yard la diameter. The Mormons have sent a mission ary to Hayti. Englishmen are gro.vins more partial to gas stoves. British railways carried 03o,000,000 passengers las; year. A money testimonial is proposed for Lieutenant Greely. Woaaen are employed ia Chili as con- dactors of horse cars. There are oSD Ice!aadera in Mani toba, engaged a3 farmers. St Petersburg was founded by Peter the Great la 1703. A woodeu-leggeJ bicyclist whirls around Salem, Oregon. The Boston posteffice, begun ia 1S71. co3t over $2,000,0X10. The British war ship Devastatioa is the most powerful afloat. A woman ia Rutland countv, Vt, is the mother of 27 children. Americans have fl2"i,000,000 in vestid In Mexican railways. American cutlery now goes in large quantities all over the world. The walls of several of the British war ships are constructed of paper. From end to end the St Gothard Tunnel is illuminated by electricity. the expense of governing New York city is over f JO.OOO.OOO annuall"."" It has been decided to build an underground metropolitan railway in Paris. Twenty-five years complete the round of a wel!-carea-for canary's career. . There has never been a holiday, a theatre, or a drum oa the Island ot Malta. Russian Dour has been offered by sample in the New York market for $0 per barrel. Water is selling for $2 a barrel in tho district of Sierra Mojada, in North ern Mexico. Since 1S73 a new state house has been erected in Hartford at aa expense of $2.o00,000. There are 250 disabled ex-Confederate soldiera In the poor-houses of North C trolina. Until Andrew Jackson's time, office-seekers were not permitted to see the Tiesident - The Garfield memorial window at Williams College has Lean finished at the cost or $3.0 1-. Mr. Keiran Paul, the London pub lisher, paid 120,230 for the manuscript of Gordon's diary. The French Government has asked a credit of 101,500 francs ou account of the Hugo funeral. A good baseball player in Rhode Island gets a bigger salarv than the governor of that slate. The pine tree, says an authority, serves as a refuge for more than 4'J species cf insects. It has been calculated that the free lunches in New York saloons cost SU,SOO,000 annually. The water frontage of Bostou is about 20,000 feet, an 1 ships are accom modated at 104 wharves. There is no legal tender in China, and silver is the money metal of that country, piissing by weight. Governor Ross is the7oth Governor of New Mexico, in an uubrokea hit extending back 200yeara. Dom Pedro, of Brazil, is t! a-ojdest living sovereign. Ha has iei."-' -H years, or since he was six years oIul':li Suicides aro said to be more fre quent in Saxony in Germany than any where else in the world. The thimble was invented 200 years ago by Nicholas van Bensshoter, a goldsmith of Amsterdam. It is estimated that 00,000 of the inhabitants of Glasgow tro to bed in toxicated every Saturday night The Mohammedans have ninetv- niue names for God, but among them all they have not "Our Father." Very small electric incandescent or glow lamps are used as front sizhts on tireanns for shooting in dim light I he nrst steamship that crossed tis - ocean brought in her mail a pamphlet proving that no steamship could do this. The eyes of the mole aresorxcrml. ingly minute and so perfectly hid In its hair that our ancestors considered it blind. The present area of Indian corn now growin? in this country ls 4,000, OOt) acres greater than that planted last year. The Indians of the Western frontier have given General Sheridan the name oi lne-chunky-man-who-means-busi-ness." With 4,o7j miles of navigable rivers and 2,000 of canals, the French railways must encounter some competi tion. Berlin has more than 700 million aires, in the German sense of the word, reckoning with marks or quarters of a . dollar. It was formerly the custom to draw away the pillows from tinder the hials of dying persons in order to ac celerate their departure. One of the most remarkable col lections of mineral spiings is the Catoosa Springs, in North Georgia. There are fifty-two springs, nearly all different in character, within the space of a two-acre plat About COO German newspapers are published in the United States, of which 7 are in the New England States, 203 ia the Middle States, So in the Southern States, and 300 in the Western Slates. The total superficies cf the seas in the world is 231.915.9j5 square miles, while that of all the continents and islands is only 34,354,900 square miles. In Paris thero aro 100,000 women who make their living on the streets. Of those licensed by the eovernment , there are 35,000 under 15,7000 under Jo ana ouw little girls under 13 years of age. u,lur"' mo iwprmu ari ga.icry t TJZZSfS SOT Foimeily the imperial art gaUcry 'VI j i i .7
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers