CHAPTER XIX. THE RETURNED ONE.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 154, 15 May 1886, Page 4

CHAPTER XIX. THE RETURNED ONE.

Iw was twelve o'clock. A magnificent spring sun illumined the library ; thegallery that had been the theatre of sa many terrible events, looked almost joyous, inundated with this bright light, and indeed it seemed as if misfortune had left the De Mensignao mansion, and nature was rejoicing at the return of happiness to it. Jeanne, p.ile from long suffering, was seated by the large oaken table, wearing black garments thatbroughtoutmore clearly her dazzling beauty, and her eyes, surrounded by a brown circle, animated by their bright splendour her sweet and melancholy face. Opposite to her, Sartilly, raiiant with joy and hope, was contemplating her with loving eyes ; while, the Captain who now made part of the family, took his place at this meeting, without having lost anything of his gay and loyal physiognomy ; and the solemn face of M. Calmet, with his white tie, alone recalled that one of the moat solemn acts of social life was in question. Un the table, in an open casket, could be ecen bundles of papers, yellow and stained bank-notes, that appeared to have been exposed to some destructive element, explaining at the Bame time why the ca?ket had floated in the bay of Mont Saint Michel — its fragility having saved it, — it really seeming as if Roger had foreseen the event, a3 a metallic treasure would have disappeared in the sands. The notary had finished the inventory of this wealth, which was amply sufficient to pay the exacted debt, and to raise the house of De Meosignac from its apparent ruin, and was reading, with the monotonous voice of a man of business, the contract, that Sartilly and the Captain were listening very little to ; Jeanne alone was attentive to the dry explanation of the notary. When M. Calmet had finished, there was a moment's silence, Chateaubrun twirling his moustache in an indifferentmanner, while Sartilly affected a calmness he certainly did not feel. "Thanks," said the young girl, at last, '•for all the trouble you have taken to repair the misfortunes of our house ; but I cannot sign this contract." " Mademoiselle, " said the notary, "I do not see - " *' Pardon me," replied Jeanne, in a firm voice ; " this is not a question of business, and I wish to be eoie judge of the honour of my house." "Jeanne!" said Sartilly, in a suppliant tone of voice. An expressive look from the young girl answered him. " This fortune you have brought me," she said, with increasing energy, -'is not mine ; it belongs to my brother, and he is living !" "Yes!" said Sartilly; "I know Roger is living. lam expecting him ; but, if he were here, he would tell you that he had destined this fortune for you. It was he who told me to go eeek it at the peril of my life, and it was to guard it from the hereditary enemies of his race that he had buried it in the cave at Tombelaine. Will you refuse to take advantage of it, to prevent the sale of the house in which you were both born ?" Tho young girl's face expressed deep emotion, but she answered without wavering : 'My brother will judge me." And if he does not return ?" hazarded Sartilly, affecting a doubt thathia tone of voice contradicted, "Then," replied Jeanne, making a great effort, —"then I will wait.*' "And delay the day of our marriage ? Be resigned to live in the convent you hare chosen far from those who love you, — far from me?" " I may die, perhaps, but I must do so. ' "No, Jeanne, you shall not die !" Baid a mild and grave voice, that came from the end of the library. The two friends etarted up as if they had been struck by an electric shock, and Jeanne held hand to her heart to repress its beating. A man came forward slowly from the depths of the gallery, the bright light that entered through the large window falling upon his tall form and his noble and pale face. One name was uttered by every mouth : " Roger !" "Yes, it was he,— the heir of the De Mensignacs, the prisoner of the catacombs, wasted by suffering, but radiant with happiness and hope." There are scenes that cannot be described. Jeanne and Roger remained a long time in each other's arms, while Sartilly, crazy with joy, pressed convulsively the hand his friend held out to him. The Captain, feelirg very much agitated, began swearing in a low voice j while the notary, lesa occupied with his masculine dignity, wiped away a tear. A month after, on one of those May mornings that shed around Paris a perfume of happiness, the Viscount de Sartilly was married at the Church of Saint Philippe dv Roule to Jeanne de Menequis. i The Captain, tightly buttoned in hie, most brilliant uniform, filled his position glpvi-

ouely ) his handsome face*; and, elegant aa- t pearance were observed by- many ; but all eyes were turned toward; -the Marquis 1 , Hoger, . - ■ ' , „ t * >- ■ t *c A vague report of v . his mysterious adven* tures had been spread through society, and more. than one noble lady thought that day of the accomplished cavalier, * whom they called, in a low voice, ?'The Absentee." In the darkest corner of the church a man, plainly dressed, was weeping violently. It was Jottrat, Before the end of the year that followed the marriage he had given up his employment in the police office ; and since than has rarely failed in coming every Thursday to dine with the Viscountess de Sartilly. This is the day they reoeivo their intimate friends, THJS END.