WHEN GREEK. MEETS GREEK.

Otago Witness, Issue 2181, 19 December 1895, Page 29

WHEN GREEK. MEETS GREEK.

* . 0 A TALE OF LOVE AND WAR. By JOSEPH HATTON. [All Rights Reserved.] Ohaptbb XLIII. Three Women. ViHILDE, in a long sombre gown, received Marie Bruyset in the Louis Quatorze boudoir, which had been the favourite room of the mother of Do Fournier. The Countess, widowed as she believed, took her humble friend in her arms and kissed her. "It is good of yon to come," she said in a low voice. " I have not seen a friendly face for many weary days." Marie, attuning her own sweet voice to the other's pathetic tone, begged madame to be assured that it was a pleasure, as it was an honour, to ba with her. " You have tried to come before. Once I saw ycu . within the gates, turned back by the guard — I might say the gaoler." " Nay, dear madame, it is not so bad as that. If you are a prisoner, at least you are not tortured with a stone cell and vile surrounding?, as the good Queen is." Then Marie told Mathilde all about the plot to rescue her Majesty, and the selfsacrificing refusal of the proferred aid. She did not enter into any details touching her own share in the enterprise, but at once sounded Mathilde in regard to any views sbe might entertain of tryiDg to terminate her present enforced occupation of the Hotel de Fournier. Mathilde in her replies gave Marie to understand that she had given up all hops of anything relating to her own interests. If she could help her father she would be willing to make almost any sacrifice that fate might demand of her. She could but die at last. " And your mother, Madame laComtesse 7 " said Marie presently. "The Citoyenne Louvet," Mathilde replied pathetically, " is permitted to go out. She is recognised as one of the people, visits among the eet that receives Citizens Robespierre and St. Just, and once a week they and. others are among her guests. At first I was exoased from beiDg present because I obstinately refused to leave my room on these occasions, and now it is permitted to me to withdraw because lam in mourning. My mother's head is turned. I believe sbe loves me dearly in her way ; and it is wonderful what sacrifices a mother will make for her child. At present her chief hope is to cave the Dake ; but there is only one way, alas I " " And that is 1 " "Don't ask me, dear friend, don't ask me I " said Mathilde with a weary look in her dull eyes that had once been so bright and full of the enjoyment of life. "I must help you in some way," said Marie. "We will lay our heads together. Laroche, my father, has something of that feeling which animates the Dachess, He loves me, though sometimes I believe— God forgive me I— that I hajte him,",

•• Don't say that ; he in your father," the Oonntesß replied. " Yon don't know what reason I have to hate him ; it is no excuse for murder that a man lovts his daughter." "But what he does he believes to be bi3 duty. Considering bis position, he was kind to us on onr way from Hocflsar to Paris." " Kind I " said Marie! scornfully. •• But he arrested you, and dragged you back to misery, and th 9 Oonnt to an untimely death. I cannot forgive him for that." •• It is not for you to judge, dear," eaid Mathilde. " God is the arbiter." "My father, Larcche, knew of the massacres at the prisons ; knew and permitted them ; aided them, perhaps," said Marie. " And Grebauval was present to encourage the aasassins before they started on their murderous work." It was a good thing, perhaps, that Laroche i had been prevented from secretiog himself where -he could hear this conversation. He was engaged in active business elsewhere, the reßult of which had a more momentous influence upon the lives of Marie and the Countess than they could have possibly dreamed or imagined. " It ia nob possible that any one can over- j hear us 1 " eaid Marie, with a sudden and sharp note of interrogation. " No. I searched the room and the next one, where I sleep, when I came here ; and there is an old servant who also reassured me. She knew my dear Henri when he was a child." " Old servants have proved the worst of enemiea to the families whose bread they have eaten all their live?. Old men who fell at the Conciergerie were denounced by their most faithful retainers, as they were called." 11 We are safe here," eaid Mathilde, " if ; one can be safe anywhere. Bat lam too selfish ; I have not asked after Jaffray EUi- ; cott. Is he still free from suspicion 1 " \ " Yep,' co far as any one can be ; the men in power are beginning to suspect each other. They say that Danton, Marat, and Robespierre have quarrelled, but Laroche denies it, though he iecontinually warning me. Jaffray is shrewd and full of resource. It is the natural aptitude of his nation. He knows how to conceal bis thoughts and weigh his words. Grebauval trusts him entirely." " But he is true to bis service 1 " "In a general way, yes. He would have ran grave risks for the dear Count ; he would carry his life in his hand for you." "May the Mother of God watch over him ! " said Mathilde. " He dreams of seeing you and the Duke and Duchess at peace beyond the seas ; believes it is possible to arrange it ; and often talks of a little bay he calls St. Margaret's, with chalk oliffs about it, and a village where he was born. His mother used to tell him of it. He has some little patrimony there, he believes, and a cottage that belonged to his father. They have no revolutions over there, in England, he says. He lost his father and mother, you know, madame, in the insurrectionary war of America." " Yes, my dear Henri once told me the story, and how he saved him from an Indian's hatchet ; and never saw him again after he l«ft America until the fatal day of the Bastille." " General Lafayette took an interest in him, and Grebauval brought him to Franoej he was then a little boy." " But a tine handsome fellow now. When shall I have the satisfaction of asking you to let me add something to bis wife's dower, eh, Marie 1 " Mathilde smiled in a sad way as she asked the question and stroked Marie's head. The girl was Bitting ion a low seat by the side o{ UfttbjlcUfr chair. -

" Ob, it is not to b« thought cf until all ' these troubles are over." " May I come in i " said a voioe as the portiere at the further end of the room wwa moved, and the Oitoyenne Louvet entered, - dressed in the oostume of the time most favoured by the republicans, but with som« small tokens of mourning in the decoration of it. Madame dared not be too conspicuous in any symbol of sorrow for a ci-devant who • had lifted his sword ? gainst the people. "Oh, It is the Oitoyeane Bruyset," she said, advancing towaula Marie, who kissocL her hand, fe." Well, lam glad. She if a young woman of common sense, and knows the world. Yen young as you are, dtoyenne, you must have seen a great deal of this b«loved Paris of ours." " Yes, madame," said Marie. 41 Give me a chair, oblld." Marie placed a chair for her. " And how is my Mathilde ? " she said. " Better, I hope. I have hardly had time to kiss you, my love, to-day ; but, ob, I have: been so busy 1 There are terrible things going on, and worse is to happen ; and SI Mathilde would .only listen to reason and accept the inevitable the Duke would be released, and I could secure the livea and the peace oE every one of us. Citizan Grebauval is even willing, IE Mathilde will change hex state, to travel with us to the coast and see ue safely shipped for England, following us as soon as he can make his arrangements to do so. And he is willing that such ceremony as is necessary Bhall be strictly private, quite a family affair ; and when one thinks of how differently events would have fallen out if my advice had been taken originally " ." Ob, don't I " said Mathilde, her pale face" flushing for a moment, to become deathlike. Madame had addressed her reflections to no one in particular. They were intended for Mathilde and Marie, but she looked afeneither of them. She unburdened her thoughts and wishes with all her customary volubility, and yet with something approach- . ing to the manner of sincere and affectionate solicitude. " But, my dear," she went on, v here is your father in prison and condemned — yes, literally condemned ; and Joseph with him, as faithful a creature as ever lived ; and any day, any moment, may be their last. Think of it ; it is too dreadful ; and the Duke defiant to the last — defiant before the tribunal, as he would be if Sanson called out his name." " Ob, mother I " gasped Mathilde, pressing her*'ands over her face. Marie could say nothing. Once she looked rebukingly at the Duchess, but without making any impression on her. " Yes, it is very well to say « Ob, mother 1 ' but ejaculations do no good, bribery dees no good, prayers do no good— there is only one way. lam not asking for my own life — that is of no account, and it is no longer ia jeopardy — I am asking for the Duke's, fol Joseph's, and for your owd, my dear, best-loved; Mathilde. Grebauval'fl is but one voice, and. there are three more potent than his own ; it is only his hoarded gold, his devotion to the people, and bis high courage that keep him paramount as an adviser, trusted alike by the commune and the committee ; and ha