THE SPY; OR A FATHER’S ATONEMENT.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume I, Issue 8, 23 February 1867, Page 4

THE SPY; OR A FATHER’S ATONEMENT.

CHAPTER VK In one of the beautiful walks of the gardens of the Tuileries several sober citizens of Paris were seated here and there, unded the grateful shadow of a stately avenue of trees; whilst beyond, rt a short distance, a glittering throng had collected to enjoy the evening air, and indulge in harmless, sportive badinage. The neighboring solitudes were peopled by those to ■whom the false allurements of the gay city had rendered repose a blessing. Suddenly a female form of grave and ladylike deportment emerged from the giddy crowd and bent her steps towards the most unfrequented walk of the gardens, closely followed by a youth, whose graceful figure and dazzling costume had raised a flutter in many a maiden's heart. The lady’s hood was thrown back, giving a full view of her face, which he elegant cavalier had seen and recognised. The recognition was mutual, for the lady had discovered that the gallant who now followed her was the same youth, who, under a different habit, had dogged the steps of Cecile, and whose love had been manifest by his tender glances towards her charge whenever they had chanced to meet. His features were beaming with joy, and radient with hope, as he pressed forward in pursuit of the star he fondly believed was to lead him to the object of his bright dreams. Presently the lady seated herself on one of the benches beneath the trees. A deep stillness pervaded the spot she had selected, broken only by the hum of the distant throng, the carolling of the birds among the brandies, and the sighing breeze wafting the falling leaves along the pathway. Suddenly a pecuiiavshrill cry rang through the air, which, after a brief pause, seemed to find a nearer eclio. On the instant a commotion took place among the crowd, and simultaneously several persons turned upon their steps. Those who were going to the right took to the left, and those going to the left branched off to the right. Men who a moment previously had been lounging lazily along now walked briskly from the gardens, whilst others evinced a deep anxiety, and seemed to listen eagerly. The cause for this electric movement might have arisen from a preconcertcdsignal. The general crowd, however, seemed totally regardless of the strange sounds. Meanwhile the cavalici, in whom wc shall not fail to recognise Adrien, had reached the lady, and with respectful courtesy had begged .permission to be allowed a seat beside her. “ A lovely evening, madame,” he remarked, “ the air is so mild and fragrant.” “ Yes,” replied Madame Roland, demurely ; ‘•but may I enquire why yon have sought this solitary walk 'i Youth like yours seldom quits yon sparkling crowd, so full of buzy liie, for these secluded haunts.” “ Where the heart is sad, madame, there is a soothing influence to he fimnd in solitude,” replied Adrien. “ Sadness seldom visits the lightsomeness of youth,” responded Madame Roland; “ and yours, I doubt not, is of a transient and fleeting nature.”

Would that I could think so too. madame,” said Adrien. “ I have wrestled with my grief, and tried to conquer it, but my efforts have been useless.” ”And may a stranger take the liberty to inquire from what source your sorrow springs?” asked Madame Roland. “ I love, madame,” replied Adrien, with fervency, “with a passion earnest and truthful. For four days I have been unhlest by the sight of the sweet saint for whom my worship is reverential." “Indeed!” returned Madame Roland, “you interest me: it is so rarely we find a, lover in the same mind for four successive days. But tell me, docs the lady return vour affection P” “Alas! I know not, madame,” replied Adrien. ‘‘ A hat, then, have yon never avowed your love P" asked Madame Roland, with curious ■eagerness. “ Never,” replied Adrien, mournfully. And the lady is beautiful, of course ?” continued his artful questioner. “Beautiful and pure as a heavenly star,” replied Adrien, with enthusiasm, “ and on the polished surface of her fair brow the signet seal of truth and innocence is set. Could 1 but enlist the lady, under whose protection I have seen her, in my cause, a life’s gratitude should repay the service.” “ And what service could that lady render you ?” asked Madame Roland, with an insidious glance. “ I would crave her assistance to obtain me an interview that I might pour into my loved one’s ear the immeasurable riches of my affection” replied Adrien, frankly. “ Why not speak to thc'young lady’s protectress ?” asked Madame Roland.

“I have every reason to believe that I am speaking with her at this moment,” replied Adrien, smilingly. “ I have endeavored to acquaint her with my griefs, but she has not told me yet that I may hope.” “Sir,” said Madame Roland, with a show of open frankness, “ f will no longer disguise from you what you already have divined, that the fair girl whom yon profess to love so deeply is under mv charge—indeed, I may even state further that your passion has long been known to me. But if truth and heart he wanting in your love, I pray you to desist. Men are treacherous, and you may be as changing and hollow as the rest.”

‘•By what device can I convince you of my .constancy?'” asked Adrien. . “ None,” she replied, “ for I feel an instinctive faith in your honor. My duty towards Cecils is both delicate and trying. I have to act with the greatest prudence is shielding her from titled impertinence, and the admiration of coxcombs.”

The tone of modest .candour which Madame Roland assumed raised lor her a feeling of profound respect in Adrien's breast.

Her guardian,” she continued, after a pause, “is a man of rigid principles, whose ideas of propriety are.mo'st stringent. Tie watches her with a relentless eye at every turn, and were I to listen to your solicitations.-or yield to them, I should do so at a very great risk." “ My love is pure, my motives arc honourable,” said Adrien, with a Hush of pride. “ I have nothing to fear in meeting Cecilc’s <niardian.” ' a

“And very little to hope,” said Madame

Roland, with an expression that subtly implied a double meaning to her words. But she was a consummate actress, and knew how to use her points. “ However,” she continued, rising from her seat, “ I am not insensible that yours is a heart any woman might be proud to win, and when we meet again in a few days ” “Oh no, no!” cried Adrien, earnestly, grasping her hand, “do not leave me thus to the torture of an indefinite suspense.” “ Nay,” said Madame Roland, with assumed austerity, “ absence will test vour love.” “ Ask any test but that, madame,” said Adrien, with an imploring loek. “Oh let me see her, and learn my fate from her own lips.” “ You do not know the danger you would run were you to encounter her stern guardian,” said Madame Roland.

“ I will run the gauntlet of any danger for one blissful hour of her companionship!” exclaimed Adrien.

“ Poor youth, I almost pity yon,” inwardly murmured the heartless woman, “pity you. and destroy you. Well,” she said aloud, and in a wavering voice, “ you tax my indulgencs with a grave responsibility, and if I yieid to your wishes, you must promise to be ruled by my guidance, to follow my behests implicitly, and without remark or question, not alone for my sake, but lor 3'our own, and hers you say you love,” “ Your conscience shall never hereafter reproach you for your kindness,” said Adrien; “I will follow von, without reserve of any kind, wherever you may lead.”

“ Come then,” she replied, with a simulated show of reluctance ; li the happiness of the young is ever precious to me, and I will no longer be a bar to yours. I accede to your request.”

The bird was in the fowler’s snare. The cold, passionless woman walked beside her victim until they reached the gate of the principal entrance. The twilight was gathering duskily around, and the promenaders were leaving the gardens. Suddenly, a'number of men in various costumes obstructed their prog; of s, and a low voice whispered in Adrien’s ear, “ Be on your guard! ” The youth, fancying he recognised his father’s tone, involuntarily turned, when a venerable priest of pious aspect met his gaze. He smiled at his thoughts, and pressed onward, hut before he had proceeded many paces, another breathed whisper fell on his ear, saying, “Be strong, be brave, and fear not. You are closely watched ; take this weapon." A pistol was thrust into his hand, and before Adrien had time to turn his head the whisperer had vanished, the sudden crowd had dispersed, and he looked anxiously but vainly for the warning voices, while at that instant his attention was drawn away by the following announcement by the public crier : “ The .young Marquis de Betagny has mysteriously disappeared—a large reward is offered to any person who will furnish intelligence respecting him.” “ Another victim ! ” exclaimed the bystanders whilst a thrill of fear shot through their hearts; “ when will these murders end P”

Adrien was on the point of making some remark, when the snarer’s voice beside him murmured, softly, “We had better not loiter, or you will be too late to see Cecile to-night.” There was magic in the words, enchantment in their sound; he forgot all save Hope, Love, and Cccilc.

Turn we for a time from the smiling Boulevards and luxuriant gardens, from the stately palaces and noble mansions, to follow the footsteps of Madame Roland, as she leads her unwary victim through the narrow, crooked and infected streets of old Baris, through the network of wretched alleys and sombre lanes that are to be met with between the Seine and the Rue des Orfevrcs. Adrien’s mind was to much under the influence of a fascinating spell to notice the very questionable locality through which he passed. The growing shadows of night, too, assisted his schemer’s subtle guidance. With a remarkable tact, Madame Roland kept the channel of his thoughts in a continuous flow by recounting the numerous trials of patience she had to undergo through the jealous and watchful temper of Cecile’s guardian; dwelt, too, with eloquent vanity on the young maden’s beauty and goodness, until she halted before a house hearing an appearance of bygone grandeur. A red-hued lamp threw a dim glare around as it hung suspended over the adjacent church door of St. Eloi.

“ I can rely upon your promise,” said Madame Roland, stopping at the door. “You will be silent and prudent.” “ Fear not, madame,” replied Adnen, “ I must acquaint Cecile before I introduce you,” continued Madame Roland, “and I also must assure myself that I can present you without danger. You can enter with me if you will pledge yourself to remain quietlv in the hall till 1 return. 1 will not detain you long.” While thus speaking she had quietly inserted the key in the lock; tiie door flew open with a noiseless movement; she gave one rapid and sweeping glance along the dismal street, and, grasping Adrien’s hand, drew him across the threshold into darkness, so deep that he could no longer distinguish her form. “ Remain here till I return,” she whispered; “ not a word, not a breath.” The rustle of her silk dress alone was heard amid the profound silence as her quickly receding figure vanished from his presence, and left him to his strange reflections. Adrien s thoughts were too full of Hope and Love for the idea of danger to find even a passing shelter in them. The pistol which had been thrust upon him by unknown hands, and the solemn words of warning he had heard, had alike failed to awaken his fears or excite his suspicions. As he stood there, enveloped in darkness, the memory of Cecile shone like a bright halo round him, mid threw its starry rays into his soul.

Meanwhile, with the bloodhound's faultless scent, Le Cerf had warily tracked the shewolf and her victim to her lair, whilst several of Ins most export agents trod cautiously upon his heels. Concealed beneath the favourable shadow of an ooposite house, he had heard the last words of Madame Boland helhre she led Ins son into the fatal snare. Tie crossed the narrow roadway, and bent his sharp ear to the keyhole. Not a sound, not a stir. Ilis head drooped heavily on his chest as he leaned tor support against the door. The frightful consequences that might result from his sacrifice shot like an icy current through his veins. The criminals were there, (here was their

haunt, and there, too, was his darling boy, exposed by his own father to the chances of a cruei dentil. “ Listen —wait! ” was the painful prompting of his overstrung brain. “ Listen! —wait! ” was the syren music in the soul of his son. To the one, remorse ; to the other, hope. The swiftly passing moments seemed laden with the chill weight of lingering hours. He would gladly have welcomed a riot, and uproar or anything that might have given him a pretext to enter the house. All seemed misty and undefined, except the terrahle reality of his own position. He stood—-Le Cert’ the police agent, and Le Sage, the father, concentrated in one man—wito trembling limbs and beating heart, crushed with the bitter anguish of despair. A beaded perspiration broke from every pore, and he felt as if his mighty strength of will aud frame was fast leaving him; hut the pistol he had slipped into his son’s hand, to he fired as a signal of danger, threw a feeble ray of hope over his thoughts. “ Merceful Heaven ! ” he prayed, “ I know that I merit thy just chastisement; hut take pity, and soften this deathlike agony! Spare in mercy spare my son, and strike me not through him ! My penitence at this moment is more sincere than all the bitterness of twenty years’ remorse 1 Give, oh Fount of Mercy, give me iny son ; and not on him, not on that joyous image of my lost wife, let fall thy rebuking hand, but on me, the sinner and the penitent.” Faith and trust swept into his heart after uttering this simple, earnest prayer. He roused himself from his lethargy of fear, and with a keen scrutiny examinee! every portion of the exterior of the house. He then passed a signal to his agents at each extremity of the street, instructing them to allow neither egress nor ingress, and resumed with renewed courage hut deep anxiety his post of observation. Like moving visions the shadows of night crept along the darkening street, while the red lamp at the church door threw a murky stream of lighten the rugged pavement. The Autumn breeze swept past, bearing on its bosom the noisome odours from overpacked and crowded human dwellings, where crime and misery lurked in fit companionship. Like Hope's beacon, lighted by a pitying angel's hand, one solitary star threw its pale glimmer from the sky above, speaking safety to the fathers trembling heart. And still he watched and waited, with strained eye-; and resolute limb, ready for the fated bound tli.it has to bring him life and joy, or woe and death. (to be ooxcx.unuii is cur next.)