THE TWO STRANGERS.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XVIII, Issue 1157, 27 June 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE TWO STRANGERS.

A STORY OF MARSEILLES.

I. — THE YOUNG SOLDIEB.

It was a rough winter's night. A slight sou'wester had been blowing all day long ; but since the sun had gone down, and it had grown dark, heavy gusts fled boisterously up and down the narrow old streets of Marseilles, as though they had lost their way. Many of the principal thoroughfares appeared comparatively deserted, as if the storm had driven most people home. Those who yet remained out of doors seemed to be bent upon reaching their domiciles with all possible rfpeed. There W3S one solitary exception — a tall, powerfully built man ; and upon him a gust of wind had little more effect than upon a solid rock. Enveloped in a thick black cloak, with a military oap drawn down tightly over his forehead, he walked along at a slow, measured step. He never onoe turned his head, even when the wind cast a stinging splash of rain full in his face. He was so erect, and strode forward in such a steady manner, that one would have supposed the weather absent from his thoughts. When he reached the quay, he crossed the road and stepped along the gangway, so close to the edge of the basin teat by stretching out his hand he could have touched the rigging of large vessels aa ha pasaad. The danger, eveu in broad daylight, when walking so close 10 the edge, would have been great ; but upon thi3 pitch-dark, windy nigbt. a falsa step meant certain death in the dock below. Presently, a small boat, dimly vibible by the light from a lantern attached to the bow, came slowly towards a landing-place several yards ahead. When the boat touched the wall of the basin, the man quickened his pace, and on reaching the spot, looked down," and demandod: "Who goes there?" " Prosper Cornillon," replied a voice. The voice appeared to corns from a figure in the boat which resembled a black shadow in the darkness. " Is your boat to hire ? " " Yes, monsieur." There was a short pause. Then the stranger, with a xoupgon of command in his tone, said : " I shall want yon to-night, but uot yet." The boatman, having meanwhile made fast his boat, took the lantern out of the bow and climbed slowly up the steep wooden steps. " Does the Oaf I Cornillon, on flhis'quay, bslong to you?" "It is mine and my siater's," Prosper replied. "That is lucky," said the stranger, in a more cheerful voice. " I will sup at your cate before we start." Prosper Cornillon led the way, holding the lantern so that the light was thrown directly in their path. The Cafe Cornillon stood in the centre of a row of houses faciug the quay. The frontage was one large window with small panes of glass, like a conservatory. Through the clean, white muelia. a light was shining, which illuminated a limited space of the roadway. Stepping forward, Prosper held open the door of the cafe" for the stranger to enter. It was a snug, unpretending little cate ; long, narrow, and low-pitched, like a cabin on board ship, with email wooden tables and chairs arranged against the walls. Some half-dozen persons, who looked like fishermen, were seatad near the window, drinking coffee and cognac, and playing at dominoes. They glanced up for a moment, and returned the stranger's salute, and then continued their game. At the further end of the cafe" was an open hearth, wrtlj'a fire burning brightly in the centre; near this hearth, engaged in some culinary operations, stood a young girl. She turned when the door opened ; and an expression of surprise, mixed with curiosity, gathered in her face as the stranger advanced and politely raided his oap. "Nina," said Prosper Cornillon, looking from the girl towards the customer, "this gentleman has hired the boat ; but he wishes far a little supper before starting." The stranger nodded approvingly. "Before sunrise, I must be on board." " The name of the ship, monsieur ?" asked Prosper, stroking his dark beard and lookinging with keen eyes into the stranger's face. ! " The Livadia." Tlis girl looked up with a distant, dreamy expression in her eyes. "That ship/ said she, as though speaking her thoughts aloud, rather than addressing herself to any one — " that ship is bound for some Greek port." " For Syria," said the stranger promptly, while at the same time he removed his cloak and sat down at a table near the hearth. I Prosper Cornillon turned away and joined the fisherman at the other end of the oafe\ Like a true cafetier, he was soon laughing with the customers, taking a hand at dominoes, and calling to his sister Nina to serve him, as though he were a customer too.

Meanwhile t the stranger sat in silence, waiting for his sapper, with his back leaning

against ihe wall and his legs strstohed ont towards the fire. He was dressed in the uniform of a French colonel, though only a man of twenty-eight or thirty at the utmost. He had a handsome expressive face, his eyes frequently brightening with some passing thought. But when he turned his glance upon Nina, his look grew serious and sympathetic. Few could have resisted studying the face of Nina Cornillon, not merely on account of its beauty, but because some trouble, sustained with brave resolution, was portrayed in every feature. That dreaminess in the eyes, already referred to, which seemed to indicate that her thoughts wore wandering far beyond the port of Marseilles, was seldom suppressed except when she was spoken to ; and when the conversation ceased, her look appeared to sink away again into the distance, while a smile would break pensively upon her lips, and tears glisten upon her long black lashes. Scarcely a word passed between the stranger and Nina Cornillon until the supper was cleared away, when " monsieur " lit bis cigar and drew his chair closer towards the hearth. Hat when the girl had served the customary cup of coffee, and was pouring out the petit verre, the gentleman remarked, " Shall 1 tell you, mademoiselle, where your thoughts are travelling ? " The girl looked with a puzzled expression into the stranger's face. " You would, indeed, be a magician," said she, "if you oould." " Your thoaghts," said he, " are travelling along the shores of Greece." Nina started and changed color. For a while she seemed too troubled to speak. Seating herself in front of the hearth, she looked thoughtfully into the fire. "If mademoiselle will trust me," ths stranger presently remarked in a soft tone, " even though she might wish a message taken to a lover, I will promise to execute an errand faithfully." The girl glanced up with a touch of indignation in hor face. Bat suddenly dropping her eyes, Bhe said, with a deep blush on her cheeks : " I have no lover." The stranger looked grave ; and as though conscious of having made a blunder, he hastened to change the subject. " I will not try any farther to read your thoughts ; but tell me," he added, " why does your brother keep a boat for hire in the harbor, when he has such an excellent little cafe to attend to? | It seems to me that the work is too severe for j you all by yourself." " Ah, monsieur, you would not say that," exclaimed Nina, "if you only knew ho w j anxious we both are to make money ! " The stranger could not conceal a look of surprise. Such sentiments, uttered in such an avaricious tone by a homely girl like Nina, appeared inconsistent. " You mean, perhaps," he hinted, " that you do .not find it i congenial work to keep a cafe, and that ypu will bs glad when you can afford to retire from business ? " "Oh no, monsieur ! That is not what I meant. When we have accumulated ten thousand francs, we shall part with the money ; and then " " Then, mademoiselle ? " " We shall begin again," continued Nina, •' with light hearts ; for if we ever save that sum, we can purohase our father's liberty." " What," cried the stranger, greatly moved. " Is it possible that " " Hush 1 " Nina whispered, with her finger to her lip, as she glanced round at the table where her brother and hie companions were seated over their game. '• Whenever Prosper hears this subject mentioned, he is like a madman. If it interests you, monsieur, Ibis terrible disaster which hra befallen ua, draw your chair closer, and I will tell you in a few words how it all happened." The stranger came nearer to Nina's Bido, and leaned forward in a listening attitude. His face assumed an expression of intense concern as she proceeded. In a low voice, frequently choked by tears, the girl confided to the sympathetic stranger hsr sad story. " Always anxioua to assist fcis family," Nina began, " it one day occurred to father to buy a vessel, for the purpose of trading along the coast of the Adriatic. So he collected together all that he was worth, made a capital bargain, and set sail in his little | ship, confident that his venture would be successful. He had traded in the Adriatic for others for many years, and was well known rs a brave and honest captain in these seas. But not many weeks passed before newa reached us that all was lost." Her utterance became thick with sobs. But speedily overcoming her emotion.she continued : "A letter came from father ; it told us too plainly what misfortune had overtaken him. One morning, when least expecting such a mishap, he was attacked by pirates. He made a desperate resistance, but was eventually overpowered and taken prisoner. They carried j him to Tripoli. The sum which is demanded for his ransom is bo exorbitant that it will be impossible for him ever to raise it. In his letter, he adds that we must therefore relinquish all hope of ever seeing him again." The girls eyes were blinded with tears, and for some moments she could not speak ; but by a painful effort she suooeeded at last. "We are striving by every honest means in our power to collect the money. It is a hard fight. This is only a very modest little cafe", | and our profits are very small. Prosper gains a few extra francs every week with his boat in the harbor. But many more years must pass before we oan hope to accomplish this trying task." 41 How long," the stranger asked, " has your father been a prisoner ? '^ " Tea years." " Is it possible ? " "I was fifteen when he went away. At parting, ha kissed me on both cheeks," continued Nina, smiling thoughtfully. "Now, I am twenty-five." , " Poor child ! " said the stranger, with great tenderness. " During these years, we have managed to save nearly three thousand francs. Perhaps, in ton more years, if we are very fortunate, we shall be able to complete the sum ; and father will be sitting in the eid corner, where you are seated now, as I remember seeing him when I was a child." While she was still speaking, that dreamy look which the stranger had observed already began to raappear in her dark eyes, and she seemed gradually to lose herself in thought. The stranger, who felt that his presence at her side was forgotten, rose from his seat with a suppressed sigh, and crossing to where Nina's brother and the fishermen still played at dominoes, he placed his hand upon the boatman's shoulder. " Monsieur Prosper," said he, "it is almost time we started. But before we go, let us drink a glass together. — If," he added, looking round — " if you* friends will join us, so muob the better." The fishermen expressed themselves agreeable. So Prosper filled glasses all round. Every one roae and " oKnked " with the stranger, at the same time wishing him bon voyage. Then Prosper Cornillon assisted " monsieur " to envelop himself once more in his cloak; while Nina came timidly forward to take his proffered hand and to bid h>™ adieu. And then out they stepped into the wind and rain, followed by the fisherman, leaving Nina all alone in the cafe", with her hands clasped, and a wistful look in her eyes. n. — THE OLD SAILOB. It waa Btol atonny at Marseilles. For some <

weeks, owing to the gales which had visited the Mediterranean, the port ha.3 been crowded with vessels, driven in by stress cf weather. In times like these, Prosper Cornillon reaped a harvest ; for hi* boat vras in demand from morning till eight. It wsa tiring work ; but a generous impulse gave him energy. He was toiling wita the direct object of obtaining his falher'3 freedom. One evening, worn out with his unremitting labors, Prosper had thr-owa himself down, with his elbows on the table, m a corner of the cafe near the hearth ; and soon his head had sunk upon his arms, and he had fallen asleep. In front of the fire was seated his sister Nina, wit* a weary look too upon her face ; but her great dreamy eyes were wide open ; for although late in the evening* it was not yet the hour for closing the Oaf 6 Cornillion. At any moment, a customer might enter ; and some customers, ii Nina was not very wakeful and attentive, wera apt to grow impatient ; indeed, she had scarcely less peace and quietness during tha twenty four hours than her brother Prosper. At the moment when it became so late that Nina was on the point of rising to turn out the lamp 3 and look up for the night, the door was slowly opened. An old sailor in a sough coat, the collar of which was turned up about his neck, mysteriously entered the cafe. He touched his slouching hat with his sunburnt, horny hand in a feeble, hesitating manner ; then choosing a table near the hearth, opposite to the one upon which Proaper's head was resting, he Bat down and began to stroke his long white beards thoughtfully without raising his eyes. " With what, monsieur, can I serve you ?" The old man answered in a low voice, with his head still bent : " Cafii noir." Nina hastened to place a cup of coffee before him ; and when she had filled a little "lass with cognac, she resumed her seat before the hearth. The girl's chair was placed with tho back towards the door. Oft one side of ho* was tho tablo at whioh tho old man sat sipping his coffee ; and on the other sitfe was Prosper, still fast asleep. Looking dreamily into the fire, Nina seemed to have forgotten the presence of both these men, so deeply was she absorbed in her thoughts. "This is the Ca£<§ Cornillon— is it not?" asked the old man. Nina started as though the voice had awakened her " Yes, monsieur," answered the girl, recolleoting herself and looking up quickly— "the Gate Cornlllon." " Kept by Prosper Cornillion ?" " Sleeping there," continued Nina, with a little jerk of her head. "An," said the old sailor, " I am the bearer of a message." " To him ?" " Yes— to Prosper Cornillon." "Shall I rouse him?" "No. I will deliver the massage to yoa." "It is the same thing," Baid the girl, with a pretty shrug of her shoulders. " I am his sister." " Nina Cornillon." " Ye 3 : that is my name." The old man leaned forward, but still without raising his eye 3, and said in a hoarse, indistinct voice : " You may remember, perhaps, a few weeks ago, entertaining a young soldier who passed through this,port on his way to Greece. Your brother conveyed him in hia boat on board the Livadia, a ship bound for Syria." "I remembar the gentleman well," said Nina, in a f Bering voice. "He gave Prosper a piece of tjold before parting, to sustain us in our efforts to collect the lai'ga sum of money which id dciar.nded by a Greek pirate as a ransom for our father's liberty." "It is from this young soldier, Colonel Lafont,' continued the old Bailor. " that I bring the message. 1 ' Nina looked r ..und quickly, wit.ii sparkling, eager eyes. "Wftat ia the m::-jag3, monsieur?" " Well," answered the old man, speaking slowly, "his words to you — I mean, to Prosper Cornillon were — words of encouragement. You must never despair! Tnat was how the youag colonol expressed it. Because, as he argued, the day might not be far distant when your father would be set free." With her eyes bent thoughtfully upon the fire, Nina said :." A very kind message. How good of him to tbink of me ! ' " The message was to Prosper Cornillion." "To think, I should say, of my brother Prosper. But" * # " But," continued the old man, " I have not finished yet." "What more, monsieur?" The old sailor, lowering his tone, and speaking as though he had difficulty in not betraying some agitation, continued : "It was uhacolonel's hope that neither of you would be despondent — that you would rather indulge ihe fancy that you had heard that the ransom demanded by this Greek pirate had been paid— that your father had retained hia liberty — that he had aven started on hi 3 voyage home, and was neaiing the port of Marseilles" " -^ Nina clasped her hands, and cried in a trembling voice : " That is what I dream of, night and day I " "Imagine, then, even imagine that the ship has reached Mvir^ciHea — that it has entered the harbour. Niv ! figure to yourself — though it may make jour heaii; boat painfully — figure to yourself a wcai her-beacen sailor entering your caf6 late on? evening — a man with a grey beard and a sbaky voice"' But at this poiat the old sailor was interrupted. Looking round, Nina uttered a cry of joy, and sprang up with outttretched arms, and with the word "Father ! " upoa her lips. It was Captain Corniilon who had com 9 thus as a terribly trying surprise. Yet, he was so changed that even Nina had not recognised him. Bat the recognition was complete now. So, taking hia daughter in his embrace, the old sailor kissed her as he had kissed her at their parting ten long years ago. Not many weeks elapsed before Oe'onel Lafont again made hi 3 apperaaoee at Marseilles. Pfoaper, who happened to be in the harbor at the moment of his arriv id, accompanied him in triumph to the CuJe Gornillen as soon as he landed. '\ Nothing oeuld exceed the gratitude which was shown by th« captain and bid two children towards this young soldier, who, on reaching Greece, had takan active sfcep3 to obtain the old sailor's rc4a&se. Ye^rs passed before Nina learned under what t'iiHeultiea Colonel Lafont formed the Ksokitron of restoring Captain Cornilbn to hi 3 family. For he was not a Hen man ; he hid [gained promotion from the ranks as a reward for bravery ; and when he had paid the ransom, he had parted with nearlj all fire money he possessed ia the world. B«c be loved &ma Cornillon. From the moment -wbc-c, upon that Btormy winter's r.ight, Colonel Latent entered the cafe and saw the girl standing by the hearth, be had never ceased to think of the dreamy face, nor of the low pat;oioirate voice in which she .--had told to Iran the sad episode in her life. Thjse events happened many years ago; and Nina apd her husband Colonel AJphonae Lafont — who became a general Iwfore he was fo.rty — should be old people fcow, if they aia still living. But one thing is carfcapn— on^ the quay at Marseilles there still stands tho little cafe 1 , in appearance unchanged, except that it is called the *kfe Cornillon no longer.—' fJuunbei't Journal*