THE NEW YORK CLIPPER ALMANAC.
 

33
 

were wrong, her mother and I; better to have let her
married then." This affectionate parental speech was
uttered " aside." ^ It gave Don Miguel a handle which
he sadly needed.

" Why not marry her noAv?" he said diffidently.

" Marry her now! Why, the doctors say she has not
three months to live. Besides, aaIio would marry her
-^except for the money they might expect to get?
Would you marry her, for instance ?"

"I would."

" Don't trifle with the sacred feelings of a parent: I
w.'irii you."

"I am not t*-'fling."

"Very good     Stay till I see Clotilde."

When the Brazilian left the Obernin mansion, he
was the accepted hu.sband of Clotilde, and the nuptials
were arranged for the morroAA-.

Madame Carmelita was living with her husband at
Athens. She had a .sAvarthy page of Albanian descent,
with jet black eyes and a sinister countenance. He
had been occupied on sea and land—a mutineer on the
ocean, a brigand in the Morea. BetAv-een Gabryel the
page and Carmelita the Avife, the Due was Avretched
enough.

Madame Miguel d'Amezevil's spirits rose after her
nuptials. Contrary to the advice of her physicians
and her husband's solicitations, she insi.sted on un¬
dertaking a sea-voyage. She wanted to see "Brazil—
the beautiful country of her darling husband." If she
died on the voyage, well and good—a funeral at sea
was a solemn and romantic ceremonial, and she rather
preferred a funeral of the kind. As it was useless to
reason with her, Miguel and his wife embarked for Rio
Janeiro. She improved during the \-oyage, and liter¬
ally overwhelmed her husband with effusive demon¬
strations of tenderness. E\-idently she had a month
or two more to liA-e than her physicians had predicted.

FiA-e months and nine days after her splendid union
Carmelita was left a Avidow. The old nobleman had
never rallied. His vices had OA'ertaken him. Medicine
did him no good, although it AA-as administered with
rare punctuality and fidelity by Gabryel. Food would
notremnin on his stomach, and, in spite of the doA-o-
tion of Mme. la Duchesse, the old man AA-as gathered
to his fathers.

The widow left Greece as one Avhose sun of life had
been forever extinguished. She Avas robed in the
deepest rpourning, and she wept like a Niobe. Gabryel
accompanied her, and he also Avas v* ry profoundly
affected. She Av-rote a heartrending account of her
loneliness to Miguel, and besought him to return to
France. " It will depend on you Avhen the dawn of
our bliss commences. Do not prolong the time beyond
tlie terms of our programme. lam all impatience."
Thus she wrote.

Don Miguel never replied to her letter—nor to the
next—nor to the next. Then the calculating, cool-
headed woman grew alarmed as Avell as desperate. In
her estimation, the handsome Brazilian had noAv be¬
come a sort of demi-god. She had dared everything—
murder itself—for his sake. Had she lost his heart?
Had his affections become riveted on a sickening skele¬
ton ? Was the red-haired consumptive going to re¬
cover? The thoughts Avere maddening. She could no
longer remain passive. She Avould proceed to Brazil
and see for herself.

Miguel and Clotilde had become almost happy.
There was a visible improA-ement in her health, and
the susceptible heart of the young man was not proof
against the passionate idolatry Avhich she lavished
on him. Gradually he became anxious about her re¬
covery. The most eminent men in the empire were
called in. Madame Carmelita's image was fading from
his imagination save as an insentient picture. His
parents paid the most unremitting attention to the
interesting invalid. Matters Avere in this condition
when one morning Don Miguel receiA-ed a letter. He
recognized the straggling, untrained handAvriting.
There was no post-mark on the euA-elope.

"She must be here—here in Brazil," he soliloquized.
She was in Brazil—in Rio Janeiro, only a few doors
distapt from him.    She coldly wrote:

Dear Miguel.—Your neglect has killed me. I came here

to see how false a man can be.   I am alone in tiie Avorld,

which has now no sun.   I cannot curse you.   I dare not see

you again.   The broken-hearted and forlorn             Lita.

P. S.—Even mv poor page is tired of Avitne.S'^ing my grief.
 

He wants to leave me—to leaA-e me in a strange land, poor
boy, rather than endure the sight of my misery. He is an
affectionate lad. As a last favor, you may perhaps oblige
me by taking him into your service. He bears this, and
will aAvait your answer.                                                 L.

Miguel's heart was profoundly moved. He was al¬
most tempted to rush to his former flame and beg for-
giA-eness on his knees, but by a mighty effort he re¬
strained himself.

Gabryel entered Don Miguel's service and speedily
became a favorite of Clotilde. She would have no one
to Avait upon her but him. Regularly every night he
poihoned with arsenic the glass of water he brought to
her bedside. He had learned from madame the
Duchess that the arsenic thus taken in small doses
Avould accelerate the progress of the malady without
any discoverable trace. He believed that the grains
of arsenic would collect and form pennyweights, and
then the patient would die. He used to watch in an
obscure corner while the physicians were present.
Clotilde was growing stronger, for arsenic taken in
small doses is a remedy for phthisis. "It does not
always cure, it is true, but it gives a sensible relief to
the patient. It checks the fever, sharpens the appe¬
tite, facilitates sleep, and restores flesh. It does not
destroy the effect of other remedies; it sometimes
assists it."    So a great authority has said.

Carmelita and the Albanian page held frequent in-
tervicAvs.    They were puzzled.

"Give her an executiA-e dose," suggested the un¬
scrupulous and impatient woman.

"Yes; and be discovered," said Gabryel, shaking
his head.

''You are a base coward," said madame with com¬
pressed lips.

Her face at this moment exhibited a mixture of emo¬
tions. A LaA'ater might have seen in its lineaments an
insatiable ambition, an iron will, a Chinese persever¬
ance, and an energy capable of every crime. The
black broAvs of the Albanian hung in an ebony fringe
over his fiery eyes. He was a dangerous animal to
look at. There was something of the cobra about him.

" You shall have gold," said the woman. "There
are many ways of dispatching her—at midnight.
This knife, for instance," and she exhibited a poniard.

''And the gold ?" the Albanian asked. "Where am
I to find it?"

"It is here," she said, tapping a curiously-orna¬
mented box.

'' GiA-e me the dagger.    Noav shoAv me to the door." ■

The woman turned towards the door. The next in¬
stant the gleaming steel shot through her heart. The
presence of the gold had excited the felloAv's cupidity,
and the woman's life expiated her contemplated
crime.

Clotilde died.

Years afterwards Miguel heard the story of Madame
Carmelita's death from a life-convict Avho had escaped
from the galleys at Marseilles. He had " assisted " at
the "suicide" of the beautiful lady in Brazil; but
Nemesis had also found him out.
 

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TH3   DOG  OF  MONTARGIS
 

From the original picture drawn by " Our Jim " f<xc
the art gallery of the Centennial Exhibition.