The Roupell Mystery
By Austyn Granville
CHAPTER XXII. (Continued.)
She set herself more firmly yet. The
delicate fingers clinched convulsively upon
the arm of the chair.
"Do not ask me, monsieur. My duty
Is plain. If you will not spare ua, I
will be with him to the bitter end."
"You cannot mend matters,' persisted
the detective, "by staying here. My men
surround the house. The cordon Is com
plete. For the last time I ask you, will
you leave this place?"
"And I answer you for the last time,
I will not go."
"Nevertheless, I will do what I can
for you," said M. Lazare. "It would be
something to you to save your own name,
would it not?"
She glanced through the portiere giv
ing ingress to the salon beyond, where
Jules Chabot was just visible as he aat
at the end of the long card table. ' Ills
face waa deadly pale. He whispered
from time to time with Goldstein, the
broker. Her face flushed for an Instant.
"What do you mean?" she ejaculated.
"I am armed, madame. Take this pis
tol.. He shall at least have a chance to
save your honor."
"My honor," exclaimed the unhappy
lady, recoiling in horror from the prof
fered weapon. "Put up your pistol. If
I used it at all it would be to avenge
myself on his "captors. Oh I my son, my
son !"
They li&U usvinnl UULUUm.IoU'y to tufi
door of the conservatory. The detective
turned and took her hand. His expres
sive face was aglow with some profound
emotion.
"You have proved yourself worthy,"
he said. "The courage and devotion you
have displayed in your hour of trial have
given you a right to your reward."
"What do you mean, monsieur?"
"Come here," he said, suddenly, "come
with me. I will tell yon something you
never knew. Something that has come to
me aa from the dead, to tell you that
your Instincts have erred, and you have
been made the play of cruel, designing
people."
He drew her hand within his arm and
led her to the conservatory. They sat
down upon the same seat where he had
conversed with the Vlcomtesse de Valiar.
"We shall not be Interrupted here. I
will tell you a story If you care to listen
to It."
"Go on, monsieur," she murmured.
CHAPTER XXIII.
"The story," began the detective, "is
of a young lady, countrywoman of
yours. It waa years ago that this thing
happened. She was quite handsome, very
young, very romantic. and foolish. When
she was eighteen years of age she met
an American. He also was young, band
some, but dissolute and entirely unwor
thy of her love."
Mme. Colbert-Remplin Inclined her
bead almost imperceptibly. She was list'
ening to the history of her own life. How
. had this man brought to light the secrets
of the paat which had, years ago, as she
believed, been hidden by the lapse of
time."
"Yielding to the American's Importu
nities, this young lady contracted with
him a secret marriage. The result of
their union was a child a boy. The
marriage was .concealed successfully
from the young woman's parents. By
toe connivance of a Irlend and a pre
tended visit to the country, Its conse
quences were also kept secret. Shortly
after the birth of her child the young
woman returned to Paris, where she at
tracted the attention of a very rich bank
r, who, ignorant of ber past history,
ought to make her his wife. It was
more than probable that the lady would
not have yielded to the temptation which
was thrust before her but for two things,
first, the discovery that her hasoand was
worthless, faithless fellow, second, the
importunities of her parents, who at that
time sustained some financial reverses. It
appears that the banker held her fath
r's obligations for an enormous amount.
A condition of the marriage was that her
parent should be released. A divorce was
secretly secured from the first husband."
."Yes, It was to save my father," mur
mured Mme. Colbert-Remplin.
He went on :
"There was a little boy,, as I have said,
the fruit of this unhappy young woman's
union with the American. This child
was given out to a nurse to take care of.
"She was the wife of a loutish, Industrious
peasant, and of a peasant family herself,
but. she was beautiful for all that, as
tome of those women are. The American
fell In love with her. He was called
way to the United States and was absent
three years. In his absence something
Toad happened." .
"What had happened?" murmured the
woman beside him.
"The child entrusted to the woman's
are had died. . On the American's re
turn to France, she presented her own
ihlld In Its place. Her husband was
dead. There waa no one to contradict
her."
A great sigh went up from the heart of
Mme. Colbert-Remplin.
"Oh I" she cried, "can this be true?
- My son la dead. How have you learned
this?" "
"Madame La Seur, who has blackmail
ed you systematically, two days ago met
with a fatal accident. Unable to see you
he sent you In her last momenta a full
-confession of tha Imposition she had so
long . practiced upon you and Implored
your forgiveness. This was taken by ber
mesotnger to the gate where you usually
received her, and was promptly seized by
. one of my men. Here is the confession,
from which you will learn that Philip
Graham, whom you firmly believed to be
jour own son, is in reality the son of
b. peasant woman, who was the nurse
your own child, and whom nn. ....
ham married." .-
But the extraordinary resemblance t
! I see it all nntv ITonr. ('..lian.
was his father ! It was eany to deceive
both him and me."
'Exactly, and othara k .n.
deceived. Though Mudame La 8eur, and
uui yourseii, was the mother of the boy,
yet Henry Graham was his father. His
facial characteristics and peculiarities
are wonderfully reproduced in the person
uis son. mere is but little remaining
be told. For VOIirtwlf. run ti tint!..
ing to fear. This secret is known to me
aione. I promise vou it shall ha
inviolate. . But in CABA tha Hoa rtf ifins-
habit or old association of ideas should
soften you toward this man, whom, up to
a few minutes ao. vou believed tn he
your own son, let me tell you one thing.
r.ven you will then admit that the course
of
justice should be no longer stayed."
"What do you mean? I am aware that
recaptured he Is liable to be returned
prison. Is there aught else?"
The detective leaned forward and laid
his finger on her arm.
Did you ever hear of the Rniinell mur
der at the Chateau Villeneuve?"
To be sure I did: all Paris was ring
ing with it."
A uuieuaeietM wuiuhil houorfd ranei't-
ed, beloved, was ruthlessly murdered In
v,- 1 . --
"Yes."
The murderer of Mndama Ron nail waa
Philip La Seur, alias Philip Graham."
lie left her and went hurriedly to the
door of the conservatory and namied
thence into the outer salon. Jules Cha
bot came toward him smiling.
i We have been looking for you. Mon
sieur Lazare. - De Valiar is playing in
great luck to-night. You're not going to
keep out of the way. He is anxious for
his revenge." '
lie shall have 1L" resnnnded M La
tere, quickly, "but I wish you would find
Monsieur Colbert-Remplin and send him
to look after his wife. She has fainted
n the conservatory."
And then he passed on into the Inner
salon.
Ah. here you are!" cried the Vicomte
de Valiar. "You have come to give me
my revenge, I hope."
. "To any amount," replied the Swiss,
and passing through the fashionable
throng which surrounded the players, be
seated nimsell at the card table.
CHAPTER XXIV.
It was past three o'clock. The cordon
of men in plain clothes which completely
surrounded the house of the Vicomte de
Valiar began to grow Impatient. The
first streaks of dawn were already risible
in the east.
A few of the guests, among them the
Colbert-Remplins, had left some time be
fore. But the majority lingered in the
inner salon watching with breathless in
terest the progress of a game the like of
which none of them had ever before wit
nessed.
But four men remained at the table,
for the stakes had been increased enor
mously. Those four were Herr Goldstein,
Jules Chabot, the Vicomte de Valiar and
the Swiss millionaire. The faces of the
combatants, for they were nothing else,
afforded an interesting study. The coun
tenance of each painfully reflected the
intense anxiety of that moment.
Two hundred and twenty-five thousand
francs lay on the table. No one would
yield and there was a call for yet an
other increase. Herr Goldstein, with I
sigh, folded his cards before him with
his enormous, trembling hands.
"I avail myself of the privilege," he
said, "and withdraw."
Jules Chabot, who acted as banker,
than handed the broker thirty-thousand
francs. - It was half of his original stake;
the other half of which lay on the table
"Tills bring our pool down pretty low,"
said the vicomte. "I raise it another
twenty-five thousand francs."
The other two players then each placed
twenty-five thousand francs In the pool.
The spectators could not but notice the
excessive excitement of Jules Chabot. His
hands also trembled nervously. He held
good cards, but if the betting continued
he must inevitably drop out.
"I think It is my turn to call," he said
at last. "I have my choice; I challenge
you. Monsieur Lazare."
He put down his cards and spread them
out before him, the vicomte, according
to the rules of the game, turning his
head so that he could not see what cards
either of his adversaries hpld. .
When he again turned to the table
Jules Chabot had left It and M. Lazare
was sitting calmly awaiting him, with a
huire heap of notes and gold at his side
It was Jules Chabot's share of the pool,
which by right of his superior hand had
passed Into M. Lazare's possession. The
vicomte was at loss just exactly wnat to
do at that moment. He knew the kind of
a hand he held was so good there were
but two other combinations which could
beat it. Was it possible that the man
opposite him held such a combination?
Or was he simply trying to trignten mm
Into sharing the heavy stakes T
A moment's reflection decided him on
his course. He had left nearly one hun
dred and fifty thousand francs aa yet nv
staked. He would bet every sou of this ;
perhaps M. Lazare would be unable to
cover his beta, and according to the rules
of the game he was compelled to do to
or cease playing, for the game was what
waa known as an unlimited one. tie look'
ed his opponent sternly In the eye. He
thought he discerned signs of weakening.
"Do you wish to divide, monsieur?"
"Certainly not!" came the quiet an
swer. "I am prepared to back my hand.
It's your bet."
"I bet fifty thousand francs."
1 raise you one hundred the id
francs," and be placed that sum au,j on
the table.
This seemed to stagger the Frenchman.
It was the last money the detective bad,
but the other did not know it. M. D'Au-
buron's friend was Indeed a millionaire.
The Frenchman arose from the table.
'Monsieur will excuse me for a mo
ment," be said. "I do but go to an inner
room to get some more money."
He shortly reappeared, making his way
through the dense and excited throng
around the table, with a huge bundle of
note in bis hand. They were different
from any which lay on the table; they
were of the currency of the second em
pire. The detective's eye glistened as he
looked at them and hi heart beat quick
ly, a drawing forth one hundred thousand
franc from the bundle, the Frenchman
covered his last bet. Then he added, aa
if desperately :
"And I raise it one hundred thousand
franc more."
I cannot meet' It, monsieur," confessed
the Swiss, "unless you accept my I.
O. U."
"No, it must be cash. That is only
fair. I am sorry monsieur has run be
yond his bank. It Is the rule of the
gameJ'
The Frenchman had hi opponent fair
ly outbet. But the temptation to make
more was strong upon him. The Swiss
had already' scribbled an I. O. U. for
fifty thousand francs and pushed It to
ward him.
The Frenchman was about to play, and
hud iuised ljla Luii J fur that purpose
when his eye caught the queer three-cor
nered piece of paper In front of htm.
"I can't take I. O. U.'s," he said. "I
must have absolute security."
tTben tbey saw the Swiss take from
the pocket of his vest a small locket and
pass It over to the Frenchman.
"Isn't that good for something, mon
sieur.'
With his face grown suddenly an ashen
gray the vicomte leaned over the table
and almost whispered, as he clutched the
locket in his shaking fingers:
"Where did you get this?"
The detective leaned forward and pick
ed up one of the notes from the vicomte'
bundle.
"From the place where you found this.
Is it enough, or shall I show you some
thing else?"
"What do you mean? Don't speak out
here before everybody. Come with me."
The two players arose from the table
and, passing out . into the conservatory,
left the money lying on the table, and a
group of astonished guests looking blank
ly at it.
"They have both been crazy to bid like
this," said one ; "they have doubtless gone
to make some arrangement together.'
.They waited for a minute for five
minutes. Still the player did not re
turn. They were in the conservatory still,
hidden from the eyes of the men. If the
wondering group at the card table had
been there, this is what they would have
seen and heard :
They would have heard the -vicomte
imploring vainly for one chance ; have
aeen him offering all he had to the Swiss
if he would go back, and give him one
opportunity to escape would give him a
bare ten minutes start.
"It is more than I can do," replied
the Swiss. "My men surround this bouse,
You cannot possibly get away. . Such
mercy as I may, I give you. It is better
than the guillotine."
He handed the vicomte his pistol, and,
turning, walked toward the door of the
conservatory. Only once he looked back
to see the vicomte standing unsteadily by
the fountain, a horrible expression upon
his face.
He looked around at the Swiss be
seechingly, but finding nothing there
which might bid hiin hope, said despair
ingly:
"Good-by; I thank you even for this."
The Swiss walked on and reached the
door of the conversatory. He leaned
against the lintel of the door and wait
ed. People were beginning to come and
look for the players. - The outer salon
was already crowded,,
Suddenly a pistol shot rang out and
echoed through the whole lower floor of
the house. The well-dressed, excited
crowd rushed toward the conservatory,
The Swiss gentleman met them In the
doorway. There was something In hi
face that stopped them irresistibly, on
the very threshold.
"I wouldn't come In, iM were you. The
Vicomte de Valiar has shot himself. He
wa the murderer of Madame Roupell,
the old lady who lived at Villeneuve," be
went on to explain.
"Oh, MonBleur Lazaret"
"I am not Monsieur Lazare; I am Al
fred Cassagne, the detective."
Then they looked upon him and won
dered why they had not divined It from
the first, for It was a face well known
In the shop windows of Paris.
"You had better all go home," he sug
gested, and they went slowly away, all
but one passing safely through the cor
don of police.
As Herr Goldstein came out with 'the
rest D'Auburon placed hi hand upon hi
shoulder.
"I want you," he said.
"Another detective?"
"Yes, another detective."
They took him away unresistingly, and
Cassagne and D'Auburon went into the
conservatory together. There across the
coping of the marble fountain, prone on
hi face and stone dead, with the blood
oozing slowly from a small wound in hi
forehead and tinging wltn red the green
leave of the water lilies, lay the body of
Philip Graham.
Nearly a year had passed away aino
the death of Phllln, rjrahum Tha nhs. I
teau Villeneuve. from it. Ion. neriod of
gloom and mourning, awoke one day with
Dells pealing joyously from it towers,
its parks and woodlands smiling beneatb
the radiance of the summer sun.
From an early hour old Pierre had been
awake, bustling hither and thither. He
expected visitors, and long before their
rrival, everything waa in readiness for
their reception.
The train from Paris was in at last,
merry group met en the platform, and
its members look carriages for the cha
teau. The first one waa occupied by Dr.
and Mr. Paul Mason. The second by
Mr. and Mrs. Van Lith. The third by
the mayor of Villeneuve and M. Delorme,
the justice of the peace. The fourth by
M. D'Auburon and M. Victor Lablanche,
for the latter waa a magnanimous gen
tleman, and could forgive a victory when
rival had fairly earned it.
It waa noon. Breakfast wa quit
ready. The finest and oldest wine In
the cellar of Villeneuve bad been brought
up. The cooks were growing nervous.
Still they did not sit down to the table.
At last from the windows of the great
drawing room they aaw another carriage
approaching.
"You may serve breakfast," cried the
doctor. "It is he."
A very dapper, contented looking mor
tal alighted from the carriage and' as
cended the steps of the chateau, a lady
on his arm, a little girl holding his other
hand.
He stood confused tor a moment as
they all rushed forward to welcome him;
but recovered Immediately, be said :
"How do you do, my dear friends
this I my wife, Madame Cassagne; and
here Is our little daughter Celeste."
And In the midst of the congratula
tions old Pierre was heard to say ;
"E.-c&Vfast
U served."
(The End.)
When In Doubt, Study Stenography
' 'When In doubt, study stenography,'
has been the motto of the would-be
business girl for the past ten years,1
Bays Anna Steese Kicnarason in tne
Woman's Home Companion, "with the
result that thousands of young women,
never Intended by education, training or
natural ability to become stenograpn
ers, have reduced office wages and over
crowded business marts, while hundreds
of their sisters, who would develop Into
admirable office workers, have drawn
back, alarmed by the ever-Increasing
army of Incompetents.
"There is room In the business world
for the competent, earnest stenograph
er, and opportunities tor advancement
were never better nor more numerous
than to-day. There is no reason at all
for the existence of the incompetent
worker. She will find thousands there
before her.
"Please bear tn mind that stenogra
phy Is a trade, and you must work at It
months, and even years, before you bo
come an expert and draw the same sal
ary an expert milliner or fitter does.
There Is no royal road to success In
stenography simply because your par
ents can afford to pay for your lessons.
Many of my correspondents seem to
think that they can skim through a
business course just as they skimmed
through school, without carrying away
any thoroughly grounded Information.
My dear girls, some of you have fooled
all your teachers all the years you
went to school, but you cannot fool the
man who pays your salary. The teach
er was paid to do the best she could
by you as a scholar, but your employer
will pay you to Rive the best possible
results fob!s "business, and If you do
not give them, he will And some one
who can."
gllffhtlr Mixed.
An Australian travelling In Japan fell
into a mixed company In which was an
English girl and an American woman.
He made himself agreeable to the Amer
ican at the start, she relates In ber ac
count of "A Woman Alone In the Heart
of Japan," by remembering that Amer
icans are accustomed to ride over Ni
agara Falls In tubs. Then he switched
to the War of the Revolution.
"The whole thing was," he snld.'that
the colonies refused to send England
troops to old her In a foreign war, so
the motherland resolved to subdue her
naughty children."
"I guess you have confused it with
the war In Africa," said the American.
"The Boer War hns been so long-drawn-out,
.you thought It was the same as
the American Revolution."
The little English girl saw there was
a misunderstanding somewhefe.
"There was something about stamps
In It," she suggested, weakly, "that
caused some of the trouble."
"Something about stamps cause a
revolution?" demanded the Australian.
"Do you mean a stampede? Or mere
ly Dostaaro-stamps? Did the rage for
collecting exist In those days?"
- But no one enlightened him on this,
and he was left to assort history to
suit himself.
The Daughter Balked.
"I thought," . said old Groucherly,
"that I could save money by refusing
to give my consent to my daughter's
marriage with young Hugglns, but It's
no go."
"What's the trouble?" queried the
friend of the family.
"She declines to elope,"' explained
the old man, with a large, open-face
sigh.
"SPIRIT OF THE GOLDEN WEST
All Oregon Represented by Floats In
dicative of Its Resources.
Portland's gteat annual institulon.
the Rose Festival, which was inaugu
rated last Jon under such auspicious
oireumitraces, will, this coming Jane,
be consummated on a scale so broad
and grand that it will have a general
appeal to the whole state of Orgeon,
and aa individual appeal to every com
munity in the commonwealth. The
grand jubilee, whioh will be one round
of pleasure for the whole week begin
ning Monday, June 1, and ending in a
blaze of glory the following Saturday
night, is not for Portland or Portland
people alone.
Oo of its most spectacular and bril
liant features is to be the magnificent
street pageant. This is a competitive
event open to all oitlea and towns of
Oregon outside of the Rose City. There
will be grand prises, the capital prise
being a princely sum in cash with a
number of oostly - souvenir cups and
other trophies of great value and
beauty.
Up to the present time about rO
eities and towns of Oregon have been
heard from, each showing great inter
est in the special state parade, and
several of these towns, through their
business organisations and "boosting"
club, have sent representatives to this
oity to confer with the Festival manage
ment with reference to character of the
floats which will make the most effect
ive showing for their communities. -
The Festival association has secured
the services of a master float builder
from the East, who is now here with a
corps of assistant ready to advise with
all who desire to enter the lists.
The railroads of Oregon, and the
whole West, in faot, are planning to
give special reduced rates on all lines,
good for the whole week of the Festi
val. Special low rates from Portland
to all polnta in Oreogn.
Every town in Oregon is Invited to
enter some characteristic float in the
"All Oregon" parade, and the Festival
association invites corespondenoe and
personal conference with cities and
towns, large and small, in this all im
portant matter.
Publications for Farmers.
The following publications of interest
to farmers and others have been Issued
by the Agricultnral department of the
federal government and will be fur
nished free, so long as they are avail
able, except where otherwise noted,
upon application to the Superintendent
of Documents, Government Printing
Office, Washington, D. C:
Bulletin No. 119. Report of Irriga
tion Investigations for 1901, nnder di
rection of Elwood Mead, chief of irriga
tion investigations. Pp. 401, pis. 64,
figs. 12. Price 50 cents. This is the
third of the annual reports of the irri
gation investigations of this office. It
deals chiefly with the duty of water,
but contains also reports from (our sta
tions in tne humid states, where irriga
tion Is not a necessity, but a means of
increasing the returns from farm lsnds;
a report on the underground water sup
ply of the Ban Bernardino valley Cali
fornia, and the second progress report ,
on silt measurements.
Bulletin No. 86. The Use of Water
in Irrigation. Report of investigations
made In 1899, nnuer the auverpision of
Elwoed Mead, expert in charge, and 0.
T. Johnston, aseleatnt. Pp. 263, pis.
50, figs. IB. Price 80 cents. This bul
letin explains the methods in use in
the arid states in the distribution and
use of water in irrigation. It gives a
large number of measurements made to
determine the duty of water and the
losses by seepage and evaporation from
canals, and discusses the methods by
which the water supply may be more
effectively and economically utilized in
the production of crops. '
Bulletin No. 104. Report of Irriga
tion Investigations for 1900, nndez su
pervision of Elwood Mead, expert in
charge of irrigation investigations... Pp.
834, pis. 25, figs. 29. Price 60 cents.
This report covers the second year of
investigations relating especially to the
duty of water. The report of the field
agents contain also a large amount of
information on laws and customs, agri
cultural methods, crop returns and
other subjects related to Irrigation. A
progress report on the quantities of silt
carried by a number of southern rivers
Is also contained in this volume.
Idaho Com Show.
On the 2d, 3d and 4th of December,
1908, there will be held at Moscow a
state corn show under the management
of the Idaho Agronomy association. Not
only will there be a show, but also a
rousing program, which in itself wonld
pay the farmer to oome to Moscow.
The subject of com will be taken up
and discussed from a practical and sci
entific point of view; the loll will be
considered in Hi different phases; irri
gation and dry farming will be talked
about and the various live stock, dairy
and horticultural subjects will be con
sidered. There will be some good premiums
offered to the winners of the show.
Now la the time to begin preparing by
planting some good corn and getting in t
line.
Tell your neighbors about It.
Do not forget the date. Mark thosa
days on your calendar and plan to come.
Tor further information address, R.
K. Hyslop, Superintendent Idaho Ag
, onomy Association, Mosoow, Idaho.