THE SPRIGHTLY ROMANCE OF MARSAC.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1264, 21 May 1896, Page 40

THE SPRIGHTLY ROMANCE OF MARSAC.

I3y Molly Elliott Sea well. (Concluded.) CHAPTER IV.- -Continued, It was one of tho most delicious moments of Mme. Floury’s life, when Marsac, raising his eyebrows, enquired

‘ What is this 1 see?’ Mine. Fleury cut in heforo even M. Duval could reply. ‘ You see the betrothal between M. Duval and myself.’ Mars ac’s wide, handsome mouth camo open as if it wero on hinges. His enjoyment of the situation seemed intense, and Fontaine, Clare and Delphine were all astounded at his heartless amusement over a catastrophe so ruinous to all of them. He only said, with a grin, after surveying tho scene for a minute or two —

‘Are you quite certain, Madame, of carrying out your plan ?’ 1 Perfectly certain,’ responded M. Duval, pompously. ‘And sho will find her good old Duval a better husband than that rascally count she married first and buried afterward.’

‘llut did sho bury him?’ asked Marsac, drawing a newspaper from his pocket. ‘Listen to tins. It is headed, “ A Singular Occurrence,” ’ ami he read, with quiet emphasis:

‘“lt will be remembered that about two years ago a man named Robert Floury, who was omployed as janitor in a medical school, was accused of the theft of some valuublo books and instruments, and disappeared on the eve of his arrest. Next day a body supposed to be his was found in the Seino. It was thought tlmt his guilt drove him to suicide. Only the other day the articles wore found, having been stolen by another person, who confessed, and this morning, to tho amazement and relief of the students, Floury presented himself, lie had been alive and in hiding tor two years.” ’ Marsac paused, to get tho wholo effect of this. It was magical on Mine. Floury. Sho clenched her teeth, her eyes flashed fire, but sho hold oil stoutly to M. Duval, who grow white about tho chops. Marsac, after coolly surveying his audience, resumed his reading—- ‘ “ The students made up a purse of fivo hundred francs, as a slight recompense to Fleury for tho charge brought against him, and to-day, at twelve o’clock, it will bo prt» sented to him.”

‘ I saw this not half an hour ago,’ continued Marsac. ‘ Tho school was near by. I rushed around to it, and, ladies and gentlemen, I have tho honour of presenting to you Mme. Floury’s husband.’ With that lie threw the door open with a grand flourish, and in walkod one of tho most weazened, cadaverous little men who ever stepped. Mine. Fleury could not repress a cry of rage, and M. Duval dropped her arm as if it were red hot.

Fleury, who seemed not at all abashed by his surroundings, looked calmly about. M. Duval was the first to recover his voico, and iiis disgusted exclamation was—- ‘ That creature a count!’

‘ 1 did not say lie was a count,’ corrected Marsac. ‘ I merely said, by way of making things agreeable, that Mmo. Floury was a countess.’ Mine. Floury’s reply to this was ono word, uttered in a tone of concentrated liatrod—- ‘ Wretch!’ ‘ls that all tho thanks I get for restoring you your long-lost husband ?’ asked Marsac, in an injured voice. ‘ Oil, tho ingratitude that, is in this world !’ Fleury, meanwhile, scorned determined to assert himself. ‘ I’m not a count,’ he Raid, ‘and that lady yonder (indicating Mme. Fleury) always turned up her noso at mo ; but I am not as insignificant as sho would liavo you beliovo. I iiavo a standing offer from tho Medical School of seventy-five francs for my fikolcton as soon as I peg eut.’ ‘ I wish it were available at this moment!’ cried Mmo. Floury. ‘ There !’ said Fleury ; 1 1 know sho wouldn't lie glad to see me, and 1 told this gentleman so. Hut I don’t know that lam very glad to soe her. 1 haven’t had so peaceablo and quiet a time in my life as when I was doad ; ’ Old Duval’s face was a study during this, and he began to stammer—'l—l—don’t think wo can ho married, Madame!’ Tho hopelessness of her situation was plain to Mmo. Fleury. She prepared to depart from tho house she liad intended to preside over. Sho gave Floury a glance of speechless contempt, and stared boldly into tho faces of the two girls and Fontaine, who had taken no part in tho denouement , but had watched it all in wonderment and in silence. ‘ M. Duval,’ she said, with a forced smile, ‘ I am truly sorry I cannot marry you. As for M. Fontaine, I would only have had him for lack of something better, The indignation of the two young ladies towards me seemed wholly devised to marry themselves off. Milo. Clare at once admitted her willingness to marry M. Fontaine, and Milo. Delpliino took occasion to say that she would marry M. Marsac or commit suicide each a tenible alternative. For M. Marsac, I can say lie has concocted and conducted the most extraordinary fraud ever perpetrated upon you. lam firmly convinced thoro nover was an Uncle Maurice, and tiie stcry of liis death and his fortune was a pure invention of Marsac’s from beginning to end.’ ‘ The story of his death, I grant you, 1 was mistaken about,’ blandly responded Marsac, ‘but as to there being an Undo Marsac stepped to the-door, opened it, and Uncle Maurice, evidently bubbling over with delight, entered, still holding on to the seedy ‘Allow me,’ said Marsac, with a low bow, to present to you all, ladies and gentlemen, M. Maurice Fontaine, late of New York and from henceforth Paris.’ Mme. Fleury seemed literally stunned by the sight of the little old man, who, without noticing the sensation made by his appear, ance went all around the circlo shaking hands, not forgetting Mme. Fleury, who gave him her hand like a woman in a nightmare. And then lie asked — ‘ Where is my little niece ?’

Clare ran up to him, looked smilingly into his face, and said — 1 Here I am, Uncle Maurice. The old man’s gratification was touching. He kissod her cheek, he patted her hair, and strokod her hand again and again. But ne nover let go his bag. M. Duval gazed mechanically at Uncle Maurice, while Delplnne s cordiality was second only to Clare s. _ ‘Ah !’ criod Uncle Maurice, beginning and shaking hands all around for the second time ' You can’t imagine how kindly I was received by those two fine follows, lhey duln t mind niy shabby clothes; they treated me nobly. 1 shan’t forget it, my lads. Mme Floury at this found hor tongue. ‘Ho doesn’t look as if his acquaintance would bo much of an acquisition to his familv,’ sho said, scornfully. ‘Eli?’ asked Uncle Maurice. Aim he neomod stung by her remark. ‘Well,’ be Continued, with an unexpected twinkle in his eyes, ‘ that’s as it may bo. I have in this bag a million francs’ worth of United states Government boiuls, a part of what I made in that noble country. My nephew, here, Received me kindly, when ho thought I hadn't a docent coat to my back, so I’ll give kim-let mo see, I might as well do the thing handsomely—half a million francs, so he can get lHa^^ißd. , He oponed tliG b<ig nud took out a, parcel. I M. Duval, you are a man of affairs; Volt know what these are.’ The sight of tho securities seemed to Wake M. Duval up. Ho examined tho parcol carefully, while Fontaino brokenly expressed his thanks, and Clare kissed tho old man, with tears in her eyes. ‘And, Auguste!’ she cried, generously, • M. Marsao must share in our good fortune. You know ho has shared everything with you. ‘lndeed, he shall,’ replied Fontaino, clasping Marsao’s hand. ‘ Perhaps you don’t know, said Mme. Flcury to Uncle Maurice, stopping in ft somowhat precipitate flight toward tho door, that it was that Marsao who started the story of your giving Fontaino a fortune. ‘ Did you, then? Ha! ha!’ Uncle Maurice seomod tickled at the idoa. ‘Yes,’ replied Marsao, modestly. When it was roported that you were dead, I determined to give Fontaino every franc of your fortuno, and I gave you, sir, a very good character bosidos. I endowed you with every virtue of a man and a gentleman—and it seems I was a clairvoyant. _ Uncle Maurice laughed excessively at this and, handing a smaller roll out of the old bag to Marsac, ho said—- ‘ Well, I would like to have you for a nophow, too. So there is a hundred thousand for you—a mere nost-egg. A fellow so clever as you can always make his way in the world.’ , Marsac was overwhelmed by the old man s generosity, and the silence, as ho stood grasping' Uncle Maurice’s hand, was only broken by tho slamming of tho door, as Mine. Floury rushed out, dragging tho unhappy l'loury ttf As h Jd? Duval watched her exit, ho said, ‘ Perhaps it is better, aftor all, that I am not in Floury’s shoes.’ , , TT , ‘A great deal better, remarked Uncle Maurice, solemnly, ‘3ho's too much for you, M This V great truth seemed to strike tho old brewer with much force. But still ho scorned dazed about tho dead and tho living Uncle Maurice. At every mention of the supposititious Uncle Maurico tho real one would shake with merriment. , ~ ‘So M. Marsac made up the yarn, said M. Duval, dubiously. , ‘Tho noblo romance, you mean, replied Marsac. ‘My invention of Uncle Maurice ranks with Orestes, with Pantagrucl, with Ivanhoe, with Becky Sharp, with Mr Micavybor, with Don Quixote, with Daniel Deronda and with little Lord F.uintloroy ; and not one of them over brought his creator more happiness than mine has brought mo. * What a elevor fellow ; what a very clover fellow !’ chuckled Uncle Maurice. ‘ And I also invented two other rich uncles and an aged and decrepit aunt, all of whom woro to make Fontaino their heir. Undo Maurico nearly went into convulsions over this. . . ‘ I used to think,’ said M. Duval, in a slow, puzzled way, ‘that M. Marsac,_ with his plays, and his paint pots, and his writing, and his fiddling, great fool, but I havo changed my opinion.’ . ‘ A thousand thanks,’ replied Marsac, with dignity. ‘Not only for myself, but for all the other fools who write, or paint, or fiddle, and thereby add to the gaiety of nations. ‘ Well, well, well,’ said M. Duval, hastily; ‘ let us sit clown and talk things over. So he and Uncle Maurico and Fontaino and Clare formed a group and sat down. _ Delphino, who had taken but little part in the proceedings, but whose heart had swelled at Marsac’s triumph, walked towards the embrasure of a window. Marsac followed her Tho curtain fell behind them, and they were as much alone as if in another room. Outsido tho window tho fountains plashed in tho May air; the day was all blue and gold. Tho troos in tho Luxembourg Gardens rustled softly. It was a day for making love. Presently Marsac spoke timidly. ‘ Mademoiselle, I recall sorno words of that Bho-clcvit, Mme. Floury. She said you bad declared you would commit suicide or—or—marry mo—if—tell mo, what did you mean . J ‘Just what I said,’ answered Delphino, with a beautiful blush. ‘ Did you mean that either fate was equally dreadful?’ ‘ Or, perhaps, that—l have a second thought, but I am afraid to mention it. ‘ Second thoughts aro always best, demurely replied Uelphiue. And then there was a scene that would hav o broken the heart of a Platouist. A few murmured words, a hand clasp, and Delplnne lay in Marsac’s arms. , ~ , A bird was singing in a tree outside tho window, and a bird also sung in their two happy hearts. So deep was their ecstasy that they did not hear steps approach, nor the curtain softly drawn, and they were awakenod from their dream in paradiso by a shout of laughter. Fontaine and Clare, U ncle Maurioe and M. Duval woro laughing uproariously and gazing at the two apostles of Platonic love and relentless enemies of inatrimony—Marsac with his arm around Delphine’s waist and his handsome head almost touching her bright hair. Old Duval grunted out one word—- » Plato •* ‘LetPiato go to the devil!’ cried Marsac. • if ever I meet tho old scoundrel on the other side of tho Styx I promise to kick him all over the lower regions for having deprived me for one hour of the svveot knowledge of Delplnne s 10 ‘Hurrah !’ cried Uncle Maurice ; and old Duval, with a ponderous air of wisdom, remarked to tho assembled company t That Marsao is not such a tool, alto. au. [The End.]