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. ”flflgmr roar. mossy. FRIDAY.~W¢JEE 3i ,. ‘H ~00 u ...v-OOG'.‘ assesses” also a at. 1: 88333383888 sea a s s s B 8 ”"3? “8.9.. sfizltvgcgzog w..- .y .. ,1 t» "g,“ag’gusus. as: s ‘ 111111158 de Pompadour, , if no 3-. . . s I o u . o s o ’l'heeffectofmslarlahstsalongtime. orbecomerun- down hem?” 0‘ the after effects of malaria. Strengthen yourself with 5‘30th Emaut’on. It builds new 97*“ bloodandtonesnpyom'm ALL DRUGGIS’I‘S.‘ 50¢. AND $3.00. av wvuono cansv. Copyright (1906) by G. P. Putnam's Son‘s. W3 look ...-en more. than~ her #5 was now his reward. He had a w promise and she would be in his n5 for ever. And so for a few M momms of oblivion to the ”55 that beset them both he stood in her dear hands in his, her face due to his. supremely happy. as she .3133” they both stepped back. 99 one had stealthily entaedâ€"only the!!! peeping cautiously, but a lack- o. my both recognized at once, of we de Pompadour. Whom do you seek?" Denise de haughtily. m man had obviously expected to mndre alone. He now tried to sidle "g" said the Marquise de Beau Se 3... “you have a message for Mon- nw le Vicomte de Nerac, give it to - 0 bl. . no man. mus sternly commanded. wally handed Andre a small note ad led. "held it. I beg.” Denise urged. her- unconsciously cold and severe. It was sealed with the crest of the and Andre mi these words: ”i must see you at onceâ€"A. De P." The crumpled note fell from his fingers. Ah! Sooner or later he had noun even in his great bliss that he not answer Denise's appeal, but this me made a decision imperative. I ‘Will you save me as I asked you?” noise said. and once again she came clue to him. ‘And if 1 cannot promise to take 1 film this morning. "And His Mfiesty?" “Is one moment furiously angry, at another plunged in the deepest dejec- tion, at another jestixg. This accursed treachery appalls him. No wonder. But, as the business of last night affects the ministers more than himself, he is angry with them alone. Cursed dul- lards, he called them in this very room, infamous bunglers. I think,” she added. smiling, “His Majesty will presently, see it is his interest to give some of them change of air and occupation. Who knows. the Vicomte de Nerac may be Minister for War yet.” Andre laughed grimly. That would be a. triumphant retort indeed to the Court that hoped to prove him a trai-_ tor and a libertine. Madame de Pompadour ceased to smile. Fear and anxiety made her voice and eyes grave. “‘No. 101,” she said, “has given the King occasion to call his ministers dullards and bung- lers. If tomorrow, thanks to ‘No. 101,’ the King should have reason to call me that and worse, you and I are ruined. You follow me?” “Perfectly, Madame.” “Eh bien! it is necessary for His Ma- jesty to communicate with the Jacob- ites. That, unhappil'y, is‘not my affair. His Meaty wills it so, and I. who ’ alone know this, must obey. This is the despatch." e Andre took the sheet of paper. “It is in your handwriting, Madame!” he ex- claimed, in sharp astonishment. I “Yes. I wrote it at the King's dicta- ve f motion 1, alone, am his magnum sgcret'ary now?” She quietly folded the paper. your place?" be questioned to gain sealed it with her own private seal, 22:. ‘l'hen 1 must go on aloneâ€"alone,” Tmmered. “and God knows what I was.” I and wrote a direction on the cover. “You wish me to be the bearer?” An- dre asked quickly. l “Three persons alone,” she replied Ambition. loyalty. love. his pledged quietly. “know of this despatch and db :0 Madame de Pompadour, fear, remorse. and pain struggled within in “I will promise anything. anything must" he cried in despair. “It is the only thing that can help,” should very quietly; “but it is well lshould know the truth. I thank you 3 fwtllat" Tears were in her v6ice. “Do ' Idihink the worse of me ifâ€"" she med Words failed her. Fate and flenistakes of the past of each were Insuring for him and for her. And then. Andre, unable to endure thmisery longer. without a syllable oi ' «bastion or justification, left her. Dante's eye fell on the note from the voman who she felt had ruined is life and his. For one minute she If it in her fingers. Her {fluids~ 'Ild girt- much for this damning evi- he of his guilt If she desired re? use. here was the chance’: and she 1!. lbs! racked by the jealousy and wt)” of a woman who loved and [it been rejected; but it was only for “Malt that she wavered, than with i N sadness tore the note into aIlleuts and threw them on the fire. Him the last had been burnt did I: like refuge in the hopeless lone- 585 of her own room. 'In Dieuf" exclaimed Madame de "Idour. as Andre stepped from be- tlle curtains of the secret door, 1mDieu! my friend, I am not the glint you shouldlook at me like Name " ipdre re . . . . c . plied.“Iam here “We your commands." A lest, a taunt. a direct question, heed on the lady's lips. But after mtseagching look, instead she a and of swift and stro 6mm. as .gc'mge. Vicomte," she said softly, hm despair. I am not beaten yet. "in you No woman can forget a Iayalty, certainly not I.” "Mme de Pompadour was a selfish ubitious woman. yet to a few nature has granted the myster- ; trier of expressing in word and . a hat they do not really feel. Then, he?“ in her unique career. It It the most potent of her many 1““ you, Marquise," Andre ro- deeply touched. ‘m hue heard the news," 7”'13er returning to business. = ' , d anything be worse? But 3%"!!! the messenger was lh‘ WY public despatches. Had 1 One of the King’s secrets you ' “Pd not be talking horn" â€"-. , YOu'll be delighted with a. / Greig’s 5% White Swan 9“? Po 1 its contentsâ€"the King, you. did I. The King cannot deliver it. It must. there- : fore, be you or I. With ‘No. 101' out there or here in the palace we mnnot trust any messenger. That is the price you and I have to pay for the power we have won.” “I will take it,” Andre said at once. "Reflect, my friend,” she answered. “If that despatch is found on your per- son, or stolen, it reveals an intrigue with the Jacobites in defiance of the l King's public promise and the policy of his ministers, and you will go to the Bastile as a traitor. It is my hand- ! writing, sealed with my seal, and the [King will disavow us both; therefore, I shall follow you to prison and death. This is a more dangerous errand than’ my commission at Fontenoy. You can risk it and will, but is it fair?" “Madame, if you were not involved. I should welcome the Bastile and the scaflold," he replied. She flashed a swift look, piercing to the marrow, and she read how the iron of some unknown fate had entered in. to his soul; but with marvellous self- restraint she suppressed her curiosity. “I thank you,” she said; “no, I canâ€" - not thank you, but some day I will.” It is not given to many men to see in such a woman's eyes what Andre saw then. He wrenched himself into asking an obvious question. “The agent of the Jacobites will be at midnight at ‘The Cock with the Spurs of Gold,’ ” she answered “Do not be surprised; it is not I who have chosen that place; it is the King, and we must obey. Paris is too far on“; the road and the city are as we know only too full of dangers. Remember that be- fore you deliver the despatch the agent will give you the password, ‘Discret et fidele,’ and show you a seal like this. Yes. keep it.” She handed him an im- pression of the private royal seal. “And now I will sew the paper into your inside pocket; it is the safest way I can think of.” For a couple of minutes she stitched ; in the most businesslike way, but neither he nor she could make the operation other than it was. What a beautiful woman! Andre was only human. indeed more suscep- tible than most to physical charm. The flutter of her eyelids, the lights that unconsciously came and went in her eyes, the dimple in the check, the rounded curve of neck, shoulder, and armâ€"veritably a morceau de roi. “They say,” she whispered, with a roguish laugh. “that poor fool of a messenger was cadoled off his errand by a. petticoat. Women, you know, are ‘often surprised at the extraordinary weakness of even strong men. I won- der if any woman could make you,~'Vi- comte, betray yourself. Perhaps?" “I hope not." Andre found it wiser to jest too. “Ma fol! I should like to try.” Andre kissed her fingers with the unconscious grace that was vainly imi- tated by all the young courtiers of Ver- sailles. “I could only succumb to your equal, Marquise,” he said, “but such a woman does not exist. Therefore I shall succeed.” “You must: you must.” ., “Madame, the paper will be deliver- ed safely or I shall never return." The thoughts of both had soared away in the sudden silence, and across the unconquerable dreams of ambition and love there fell the sinister, blood. stained mystery of the unknown traitor and darkened the room. : “God keep you, my friend,” Madame murmured. “God keep you safe!" ‘ CHAPTER XXII. The clock in V Andre's room struck t tots were properly primed, precious despstch was still in ' ket, he blew out the lights and ' a rope ladder swung himself out of the window. His experience at -"The Gallows and the Three Crows” had warned him that for his foes to discover the King's commission was for Madame de Pompsdour and himself ruin. death, and dis- honor. And as he was determined the Court should not so much us know . he had left the palace. So at midday he had given out that he was ill, had even sent for a physician. and then had quietly slept till the hour had come. And now that he had successfully tin-themthoslipthsCaptsinofthe Queen's Guards laughed as a mt schoolbOy might have done. A few lights still -’twinkled into the October air, some from behind shutters, others through the open glass. Andre paused to survey the majestic front of the psi- aco as it faces the broad terrace that commands the gardens, that terrace where today the bare-legged French children scamper and the chattering tourists strollâ€"those gardens where, could he have known it, was to be played out the tragi-comedy of The Diambnd Necklace and the downfall of the descendants of Le Roi Soleil. And he was asking himself, would he ever see Versailles again? Up there to the right was the win- dow of Denise's room. If only he could have said two words of farewell before he rode out to battle with the un- known! Hush! the shutters were be- ing fretfully thrown back. Yes, that figure in white was Denise looking out, as so many in ,their sorrow or passion have looked out, to the stars for an answer, and in vain. His blood throbbed feverishly, until Denise, ignorant that in the darkness below her a heart as cruelly torn as her own was beating wistfully, wearily closed. the ls’hg‘iitters, and went back to a sleepless Andre stole away across the gardens to seek the road yonder where a trust- ed servant from Paris would be wait- ing with his best horse. “She is not a peasant,” he muttered, showing whither his thoughts were traveling. “Well, well!" "If I am not at the palace by nine o'clock, Jean," he said as be mounted. "come for my orders to the inn called ‘The Cock with the Spurs of Gold.'-” And Jean nodded knowingly. Orders! Andre smiled grimly. Dead men can give no orders, not even for their own burial, nor can they take all their secrets with them; more was the pity. , When the servant had disappeared Andre bound the mare's hoof; with felt, and she whinnied affectionately, as if she understood. She had only twice been so treated, once the night before Fontenoy and now, for she was the English blood mare which had crushed into pulp the face of that miserable dead woman in the char- coal-burners wood and had saved her master’s life from “No. 101" and George Onslow. Andre stroked her neck and whispered into her ear. To- night she might have to save his hon- or as wall as his life. Once in the main road Andre drew rein in the shadow of a tree on the out- skirts of the forest and listened atten- tively. To the right ran the track for farm carts that led directly to the inn; but he decided not to take that. If by any chance he had been followed or an ambush was laid his foes would cer- tainly choose that track, his natural route. He therefore rode past it. again halted to listen, and then plunged fear- lessly under the trees, picking his way along a wood-cutter’s disused path. Already, through the tangle of boughs, he could make out the blurred shape of the inn ahead, when a faint hiss brought his sword from the scab- bard. No, that was a low whistle there On the right. That bush, too, just in front was stirring suspiciously by St Denys! the crown of a man’s hat. A bowl of surprise _ and pain rent PflUH BABY’S FADE ITEHED TERRIBL Face and Neck Covered with In- flamed Skin â€" Suffered Terribly â€"MotherTook Her to Doctors ando goflfieegdes to No évail â€" Lost Faith n iclnesâ€" riend Suggested Cutlcura Remedies and , CHILD {S NOW THE P!CTURE OF HEALTH “My baby’s face and neck were cov- q'ed With itching skin similar to ecosma, and she suffered terribly for over a year. I took her to a number ofdoctomand also to different colleges to no avail. Then Cuticura Remedies were recom- mended to me by Miss GT, who was telling me how they helped her. I did not use it at first. aslhadtriedaoman other remedies without any favorablg results. At last I tried Cuticura Soap, ' Cuticura Ointment. and Cuticura Recol- vent Pills. and to my surprise noticed an improvement. After usmg three boxes ‘ of the Cuticura Ointment, together with the Soap and Pills, I am pleased tosaysho is alto ther a different child and the io- t_une_ health, and now I have a firm lief in Cuticum Remed' be without them in the house. I will gladly let you publish this testimonial as 1 would like others to have the sumo benefit that we did. and you may be euro I Will recommend them stro ytoevery- body I know and to those! on't know, too. Mrs. A. C. Brestlin, 171 N. Lincoln St., Chicago. IiL, Oct. 20 and 30. 1906." ONE NIGHT TREATMENT ForSoreHandsandFoet .ly tragic, “hascois's was lying on the ground and all was still. In an agony of bewildered fear he tore his coat open and felt for the do snatch. Impossible! Yes. it was still there. A red mist danced in his eyes, his left arm throbbcd with pain, but he lay half sobbing with a delirious joy The despatch was still there! Death and dishonor had not the .mastcry of him yet. "You are hurt, Mons gneur?" Yvonne, in her tat gown and dishevelled hair, with a lantern in her hand, was kneeling beside him. Andre staggered to his feet; he scarcely knew whether he was hurt or not. He gued round, trying to recollect, as the nick- ering light showed him four men's bodies lying this way and that near him. Dead, all of them. And his homeâ€" no, that was alive; she whinnied as he tottered up to her. “Take it to the stable,” he muttered. “take the mare, Yvonne. It is not the first time she has saved my life." Yvonne in silence led the bleeding beast away. The girl who loved a cow also understand why a soldier could love his horse. Andre now seized the lantern and examined the dead men. Ha! two of them he did not know but two were the spies of “The Gallows and the Three Crows,” the, servants of the Duke do Pontchartrain and the Comte de Mont Rouge. He sat down on s fallen tree trunk faint and sick. But the shock braced his dazed mind and be tugged out his watch. To minutes to twelve. Ten minutes. He could still be in time. His arm indeed was dripping with blood. but it was a mere flesh wound, which he promptly bound up with his handkerchief, and by this time Yvonne had returned. "Tell me what happened." eh com- manded. "I was sitting in the kitchen,” she said quietly, “when I heard a cryâ€"s terrible cry. I seized a bludgeon and s lantern and rushed out. Mon Dieu! Monseigneur, it was horrible; you were fighting and falling. I struck as hard as I could. and then all was still. Mon- seigneur. I can see now, killed three of them, but the fourth I think I killed. Seeâ€"there!" . Her bludgeon was lying beside one of the dead men, whose head it had but- tered in. Yvonne began to cry at the sight. “Will they hang me, Monseigneur?” she asked. , 'I-Iangyou! Good heavens! You have saved my life, my honor. They will not hang you unless they hang me, and they will not do that. Come, Yvonne, we must show these cannula when: the superintendent of the police can scan them tomorrow." They_csrfled the four bodies to one of the outbouses, and not till then did Andre enter the inn parlor to wait for the agent of the Jacobites; but no agent arrived. and, after drinking some wine which Yvonne found for him and telling her to summon him if required, Andre dismissed her, drew a chair up tothenre,sndbegantoponderonths night's work; but his mind refused to think. A curious numbness as if pro- b a drug steadily overpowered wrestling with himself ips, holding her petticoats oiftheiloor,stolein,andbehind hers stranger, shading the light he carried 3:1 his hand, stepped many on tip In silence they both inspected the sleeping Andre. Then Yvonne very cautiously inserted her hand inside the sleepers coat and probed as it were gently. The pair inspected the despatch closely. smiling when they observed the handwriting on the cover. Then with the same practiced soreness of touch, they rebuttoned the coat. and withdrew as noiselessiy as they had entered; but as they reached the thres- holdalittletougucofflamefromone of the logs on the are suddenly reveal- ed the face of Yvonne’s companion to be that of the Chevalier do St. Amsnt. Outside the door. the girl hung her la’ntern quietly on the wall in the pas~ sage. s “Why hasn‘t Francois come?” she asked, in an anxious whisper. “Francois will never come," the Chevalier replied. very curtly. “Do yon"--sho pushed back her mat- ted hair with a gesture of horrorâ€"“do 100â€"" ‘ “Yes, I do. The English have been on Francois's track for some time. He was last seen, I learn, lotierlng about the Carrefour do St. Antoine. Poor fool. whydidhegothemofsllplacosine has disappeared andâ€"" “George Onslow?" she interrupted with a dash of anger. “Ifesrso.0nslowismadwithdos- pair and wrath. He had discovered Francois’s trade and his Jacobite em- ployers; and the English Government pays handsomely for Jacobite secrets. Onslom, too, was convinced he would getno more papers as he had gotthem before, and soâ€"" “Yes, yes.” Then she added, “And he desired revenge on a woman." The Chevalier nodded quietly. "If he had secured from Francois that paper which De Norse is carrying. revenge wastahil hands. Butthemadman has strncktoosoon; itisJustsswellfor sllofus." Helookedupanddownthe dimly lit passage. “Some day." he said, in amattenof' Mtonethatwas cruel. fate will be "unwilldothatltilthodu- any of France.” The thought imposed silence on both. passion“ Andrs‘smoasnredbmatningcouldbe»‘ beard dying away in peaceful inno cuce‘in the dim passage. o “not this attack?" Yvonne demand- 'ed suddenly. “The ministers and the Court, of course," was the quick-reply. “Some onehaswarnedthmofhifâ€"henod- dad towards the Monâ€""his errand. The some aneun only be Onsiow, the miseraous traitor, and it explains Fran- cois's disappearance, too. The despstch can wait. But Onslow’s game must be watched or-â€"-” “And checkmated," she interrupted decisively. “Ah! I see it nowâ€"I see it all now." They fell to talking earnestly. Three hours later Andre had return- ed to his room in the‘palace as he had left itâ€"by his rope ladder. He had an interesting story to add to the morn- ing chocolate of Madame de Pompa- dour, and he was able to give back in- tact a despstch which he had been no- able to deliver. Ana the next event was at ten o'clock, when the Duke of Pontchar- train was chatting with the mowing crowd in the Cell de Boeuf. Sharp ex- clamations, followed by a dead silence. greeted the entry of the Captain of the Queen's Guards, whose left arm. all could see, was bandaged and carried in a sling. “Monsieur le Due," Andre said in a voice that rang through the room, “His Majesty commands your presence at eleven o'clock in the Council Cham- ber." He paused to allow the royal message to be appreciated by the at- tentive company: then he added: “And, Monsieur le Doc, I beg to say for my- self that if your Grace wishes to know where your servant and that of the Comte de Mont Rouge are. who at- tempted to murder me last night when carrying out the commission of the King of France, your Grace will find them both dead. along with two others. in the inn called 'The Cock with the Spurs of Gold.‘ " A haughty bow, and he had left the astonished Duke and the appalled su- dience to their bewildered reflections. CHAPTER XXIII. The customary midday service in the chapel at the palace that morning was unusually crowded. Mansart’s dig- nified and classical architecture in all its frigid splendour is best viewed to day by the visitor from the royal trl bone, and it is with diflculty that the cold and empty desolation condesconds to conjure up for the imagination the historicshareofthischspelin the grand age of the French monarchy. For under Louis XV.â€"-sensuslist and bigotâ€"the homage of attendance at the rites of the religion of the Sove- reign and the national Church was as profitable, nay, as obligatory, as she discs. to the insulin. convention (1' Court etiquette and the good breeding of the Durham St. Germain. So. in- deed, it had been under Louis XIV. and the ascetic pietism of Madame de Msintenon: so it continued to be un- der Louis XV. and the genial culture of Madame de Pompadour and the llbertinism of Madame du Barry. But. Andre. like every one else in the con- gregation that morning, was not think- ing of this curious paradox as his eye scanned the devots worshipping beside the men and women who patronized Voltaire and laughed at miracles in polished epigrams that dissolved the centrsl truthsoftheChriatianfaithino to a riddle for the vulgar. lie saw the King. the Queen, and the crowd of com-tiers, he saw Madame de Pompa- donr, who as yet had not she did lam, the seat she the grand tribune. He was fellonhisknees,whenwssthe of Pontchartrain and what had the King said to him? Andre, alike with the foes of his own order, knew that a crisis had hem resend. The next forty-eight ho in most settle decisively the great battle between the Court and the maitzesse en titre. And the decision rested with the royal figure kneeling devoutly on his crimson faldstoolrwith that man of the soft. impenetrable, bored eyes. who broke all the Ten Commandments, yet said his prayers with the same ab- sorption as the most fanatical devot. Yes: Louie's worship was watched with feverish interest by every man and woman present “He is in a great rags,” the Com- tesse des Forges whispered, as she crossed herself: “he never says all the responses unless he is truly angry.” The Abbe de St. Victor uttered gent- ly. rather because tbsâ€"llamas»: Iowa infirm sunny. 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