The Argosy — page 75: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

62 All Souls Eve. now,” cogitated old Paul, shrewdly, as he trotted after his young master. “But I’m not going to split upon him to Madame.” Ah! those anxious hearts, those anxious. faces, standing, that after noon, at their cottage doors! The day had turned out wretchedly cold, and pouring with rain. Francis Latange was back early. “Oh, Master Francis,” cried a woman, from the first door he came to, ““what about my poor boy? His number s “ First-rate, Mother Gris,” interrupted the young man cheerily, riding on without stopping. ‘‘ Ninety-six, I think.” “Thank the good God!” murmured the mother, falling down on her knees on the threshold, and drawing out her beads. “ Master Francis—a moment, sir!” implored an aged man, staggering across the road. ‘‘ Has my grandson fallen?” “I cannot tell you, Joseph,” answered the young hergeman, i in a kindly tone ; doubly kind, because he knew the news that was in store | for the poor old man. ‘‘I did not get at all the numbers, you know.” “‘T feel he is down,” moaned the eld man, “though you won’t tell it me, sir. Who is to work for me, in my years, when Jean shall be gone! His brother does nothing for me.” “Don’t meet sorrow half-way, my poor Joseph. You shan’t want a crust and a roof, even if Jean has to go.” “The saints protect him for a kind heart!” muttered the aged man, | | | gazing after the horseman. “ But—oh, Mother of Mercy, help me and > my poor boy! I know he is fallen.” Mrs. Fitzgerald saw Master Francis coming, and threw her window up. ‘What speed?” she called out, as Clara glided to her side. “Tombé,” replied the young man, partly checking his horse; “ my number was seventeen. SolI can go for a soldier, now, as soon as I please.” And Clara’s very lips turned white as he cantered on. _ The next morning, as Clara was making the breakfast, Madame Coe came in. ‘I have news to tell you, Miss Clare,” she began, “and I'll tell it before Madame your mamma comes down—I know I did not want my mother to ferret into my private affairs when I was a -demoiselle. There was a great dispute up at the chateau last night.” “A dispute !” repeated Clara. ’ “ Between Master Francis and his mother. Mam’selle Adéle, who was up there yesterday doing some dressmaking, told me. It seems they were talking about the substitute for Master Francis, and that brought up other matters. Madame began to speak of his marriage, and Master Francis stopped her, quite carelessly like, and said he did not intend to carry out the marriage, for he thought he and Mam’selle — would not suit each other.” Clara changed colour. “* And the joke of it was, that Mam’selle Anastasie had got her ear to the partition, along with Mam’selle Adéle, and heard it,” continued the Gomicbooks.com