CHAPTER IV. DEATH OF ANDRE DUMONT.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XII, Issue 38, 9 January 1885, Page 5

CHAPTER IV. DEATH OF ANDRE DUMONT.

Charley the eldtst son of Louis Lepont, hud jast returned from Dieppe when supper was ready. After if. was over, and Rosa had gone away to bed, Charles said : "Andre mnst be mad." He spoke of his cousin, the younger Dumont. •• I met him in the street — I accosted him in our usual friendly manner— l was about telling him of the new cottage our uncle has hired. What, think you, was his reply ? ' I know nothing ot such boors ' ; he even muttered sometfcing of l canaille.' But for my resolution never to strike, I would have knocked the puppy to the ground, t coolly replied : 1 Well were it for you could you ever attain the respectable station your uncls holds.' He roaied out a hoarse laugh, and we parted." "It is his poor mother I pity," said the elder Lepont. " I hare long," he added, " foreseen the youth will turn out badly. His associates are of the worst character—men who, with egalite antl fratemite ever on their lips, are withal the mo3t selfish of human h sin. firs " '• Because they are without any sentiment of religioo," said his wife. She had laid her knitting aside, aud was listening with attentive interest to all they 'said of young Andre. "Poor, dear Annette!" she ejaculated. Poor Annette bad longed mourned her husband's determination to leave Andre in a school whence religion was totally excluded ; but all her arguments— all her entreaties were vain. Dumont himself sinned deeply, and no thought of repentance seemed to distract him. He joined in every irreligious sentiment current ; he was pleased to fiud his son agree with himself. The youth had quick parts, and had distinguished himself in

■

the school ; he was considered the cleverest boy there. Applause had fanned his vanity, and the poor lad was haughty and supercilious towards all he considered his inferiors. When Charles Lepont met him he was full of becoming a great artist, and had arranged with a painter of some repute— a friend of the schoolmaster's—to receive him as his pupil. He wag first to pay his parents a visit, and try how much money his father could allow for his support.

Annette felt very solitary without her darling Rose. Nothing consoled her but the consciousness of the advantage a year sp<mt among the pious children of the Pollet, and the instructions of M. da Berulle, would be to Rose. She was, therefore, greatly cheered when her husband told her Andre would pass a month at home. The only good sentiment which still lingered in Andre's heart was filial affection to his mother. She was the only virtuous person who had any influence over him.

On the first evening of his return, himself and his father sat up together, far in the night, drinking. Tne elder Andre might often lately be seen in a state very near intoxication ; the younger was making rapid progress in that most degrading vice. On the present evening Annette left them, and went to her room resolved to seek her son oa the morrow, when he would be alone.

She rose early, as usual. Breakfast was ready at the given hour, but neither husband nor son had yet been seen. Uneasy, she went to seek them in their chambers. The son, having recovered from the fumes of the preceding night, was about to make his appearance. She sends him, or rather takes him along with her. to seek his father. All is tranquil in the father's room ; he, too, is perfectly still ; she cannot arouse him ; she lays her hand upon his head ; he is insensible—immovable ; a shudder already seizes her, and her agitation becomes so great she can scarcely support herself. The stillness of Andre is that of death ; a stroke of apoplexy has terminated his career ; suddenly, without a moment's warning, he was summoned before the Divine Judge.

Annette's feelings are not to be told. " His soul ! his soul ! " were the only words escaped her lips. She herself was pale as a corpse. Her son led her to a chair, and opened the window, in hopes the balmy breeze might restore some freshness to his mother's cheek. Young Andre himself, aghast, stood beside his mother ; his eyes wandered from her to the bed, whereon lay the lifeless corpse ; its grim and ghastly features seemed to deter a nearer approach. There is a God— a just Judge— Andre felt. (To be Continued.)