Penarth Chronicle and District Advertiser

CAUGHT AT LAST; OR, THE FELON'S BRAND. [ALL BIGHTS BESERVNDj CHAPTER XI. ALIVE OR DEAD? ty June, 1848, disorders took place in Paris streets. Desperate men raised barricades, and fought for Socialism and lie ence. The miserable, the hungry, the jigged, and the vile—all who had everything to gain, Md nothing but their wretched lives to lose—joined the insurrection. Fearful stories are told of that Distracted time. Men and women, born of the nation which, by its own account, always marches in the van of civilisation and of progress abnegated humanity, Md became, in the wild delirium of the season, brutes. Shuddering Europe heard of captive youths belonging to the Garde Mobile, faint and wounded we'1-nigh note death, dragged behind barricades and siowly" roasted alive'; of National Guards, bleeding aad exhausted from sword or bullet wounds, backed to pieces with cruel saws and rusty iron hoops of he!p- jtCSS infants, spitted shrieking upon bayonets, and toesed with fiendish glee from one to another of the frantic horde. Ghastly stories these let us hope they were untrue. Hard by a foreign bank upon the Goldsmith's Quay, stretching across the streets from the houses to the river, one of the most for(-iiidable, barriers was raised. Some overturned carts and omnibuses, with furniture taken from adjoining houses, had been built m with paving stones, rammed tight with gas-drenched Mrth. The upper windows of the houses behind the barricade were lined with men in Mouses, the pre- cision of whose lire was attested by the numbers who had already fallen in this assault. In the rear of the barrier stood a crowd of defenders, livid and S&vage faces mostly, biackened w'ith smoke and powder, many bleeding from wounds. From time to time a boy would be hoisted up, to peep over th" barricade, and report the movemen's taking place among the troops in front. "More cavalry! Look o-tt, up there!" cried the Scout to these in the windows. Pick off the horses of the leading then the pf&cers! cried a man with a bttshy, black beard, « They'11 stop the way, and you can deat with the rest a.t leisure. "Bravo, Nap!" exclaimed one of his companions, etapping the speaker on the shou!der. Good advice, that, my boy. Do they teach the art of war, too, down tliere, among the other little accomp'ishments ? Pestilence! 'tis a better boarding-school than I thought." Silence, Poing growled the other. Wilt never hold that chattering tongue of thine ?" He cast an uneasy glance around, ''o see if his comrade's banter had been overheard, then continued: Dost not know there are many traitors who would cast us over those Stones this moment to the aristocrats, if they guessed i)tt the reward ? A still tongue man, is safest for the present." The clattering hoofs of the charging cavalry inter- )'Upted further exhortation, as a volley from the dragoon's carbines spattered against the stones of ths Barricades, or sang harmlessly over the heads of its defenders. The biouses in the windows returned the Sre with the effect Nap had foreseen. In less than a minute a phinging and confused heap of kicking Worses and dying men effectually barred their com- edos' advance. The insurgents behind the barricade scaled the heap, and fired with comparative impunity into the struggling mass. After much useless effort, the omcer in command ordered the retreat to be rounded, and the bamed cavalry drew off. "Fools!" sneered Nap. "They might as well Charge a stone wall. Up, boy, and see what will be their next game." The agile lad obeyed. I can't make them out Row," be said, doubtfutty. A lot of soldiers are Standing round a mounted omcer, who seems speak- ing to them. Hark!" Down the street come the sound of cheers, as of welcome, with a cry of Hurrah for the Genera)!" They are gathering in columns for another charge," said the boy. "infantry now. The column to the right is headed by an old man with white hair, ]ttt a grey blouse, wearing the cross and several medals upon his breast." A savage exclamation broke from the man called Na.p, and he hastily clambered up beside the boy. It is he he muttered, between his clenched teeth. "F<M!<e/ Where shall I go? He will shoot me like a dog!" "Look out!" cried the boy, shrilly. "Guns' They are unlimbering. I see the port-fires. Ah, me?trs ("Alas! I die!") Shot by a rifle-bullet through the brain,.the lad feL quivering in his comrades' midst. Nap sprang from the barricade. They are coming They are coming and lte is with them he yctied. Save himself who can! Fly Sy Poing caught him by the arm. "Art mad, fool?" he whispered, fiercely. Stand fast' We have beaten hack the others—why not these ? Look out a.bove there," he shouted to the blouses. Give them pepper, my braves And thou," turning to Nap, "if thou stirrest, I drive my knife into thy breast!" Shaking in every limb, his hands trembling so that )ie could scarcely grasp his musket, the son awaited the attack led by the father. On came the regulars with firm and steady step, the drums beating the charge. When within about a, hun- dred'yards of the barricade, a halt was called and the troops drew off beneath the shelter of the bouses. All this time the blouses were loading and firing with terrible effect. Numbers of the regulars fell, but their comrades were not discouraged. This time the fate of the barricade was sealed. The troops had hardly cleared the road when the bugle rang out the signal. With a roar as of a dozen cataracts, the guns opened upon the barri- cade. The iron hail soon rendered it passabie- Its fragments were driven back upon its defenders, Crushing many who had drawn close to the hou-.e- walls, to avoid the storm of grape and that showered around. A breach was effected, and through it poured the furious assailants, in a long; restless, living tide. Little mercy was shown, Scant quarter was given. Shot, brained, stabbed, Slaughtered in any manner that was quickest, ieii the miserable defenders. Foremost among the assailants was honest Jean Parlandet, the brave old workman with the cross of honour and the medals on his breast. Though more than seventy, his nervous, ptajw!u't sinews did that. das the work of a man in his

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though slightly prejudiced wouTa easily forgive his only son if eonvinced that his future happiness was secured by the match but that the marriage must be kept secret until a favourable opp0r, unity of revealing it should arrive. Claire was ambitious, and she liked Arthur. The prospect of being the miatress of a comfortable home was more attractive in her eyes than that of passing her life in dependence upon Rosalba's humours. She consented and the marriage took place. It was not arranged' with so much secrecy that rumour of what had occured did not ooze out. Rosalba, in anger, expelled Claire from her house, a.nd the young wife was forced to fly for shelter to her husband's arms. A good-naturfd friend of Arthur's slightly acquainted with his father, took an oppor- tunity of casually mentioning the matter in a quarter whence he knew it would reach Mr. Wharfe's ears. The consequence was a peremptory summons to the son for his instant return home. Knowing that his future prospects depended upon obedience Arthur, ignorant of the impending storm, quitted his wife with repeated promises of speedy return to bring her to England, and went his way. Went his way, and never came back. From tha hour when her eyes lust rested upon her husband's departing fgure, Claire neither saw Ror heard of him again in life. To her, from that moment, Arthur died. Whether he was intimidated by his father's threats to disinherit him if he attempted to reclaim bis wife; whether fairer prospects and better worldly fortunes opened to him in his native land, and caused him to forget the trusting woman he had left behind, Claire never knew. It was enough for her that her husband was gone, and came not back again. Within a year after the marriage, Claire was in her last earthly rpsting-place, and a little helpless mass of female humanity lay gasping for feeble breath In Rosalba's arms. When Arthur's desertion had con- tinued so long as to be no further matter of doubt, the ties of nature and kinship prevailed over anger in the actress's mind. She brought CSaire back to her bouse, tended and comforted her in her affliction, stood by her in the thrice-crue! hour of a deserted woman's maternal agony, and finally closed her sister's eyes in death. The orphan left upon Rosalba's hands was brought: up at nrst with her own boy. Then, when the children grew older, was sent to a. boarding-school, while Fabian pursued 1-MS education abroad. After Fabian's return to Paris and his mother's death, the charge of his cousin fell entirety upon him. Not knowing very well how to get rid of the expense, and at the same time¡consicl8i'ing it a pity that the capital invested in A dele's board and education should benefit some one out of the family, Fabian came to the conclusion it would be cheapest in the long run to marry his cousin himself. For Adde, what better prospect could oH'er than the one thus opened ? Gratitude, habit—a. certain degree of affection, even-all bound her to her cousin, and she gladly accepted his offer. It is only honest to Fabian to add that he made her fairly happy. By the time when the slaughter at the barricade which brought M. Napoleon-Victoire Parlandet ac- quainted with Fabian van Flewker took place,Adèle had brought her husband a daughter, then about eight years old. In this child was garnered up as much of Van FIewker's heart as was not absorbed by his thirst for wealth. For his wife he entertained that calm and agreeable sensat'on with which a man regards a superior kind of housekeeper, who wards off from him, for a certain consideration per annum, the petty troubles of domestic life. His child, Gertrude,. he loved. For her education he had recently engaged a governess, Mademoiselle Natalie Lagrange, whom you will recollect as accompanying Madame van Flewker in her search for survivors among the ruins of the barricade. It became evident to the banker, after the June in- surrection in Paris, that continued residence in France was too hazardous. He had no faith in the per- manence of the order which is maintained by bayonets and grape. Accompanied by Parl, therefore, Mynheer Fabian van Flewker removed his entire establishment to Augustine-close, London, where it has since re- mained. For his own place of residence he selected Bloom sbary-square. ¡ Here a misfortune happened. Madame Van FIewker died, the cause of her'disease originating in the same Kind and merciful spirit which led to the rescus of P&rl. A female servant being seized with fever, her distress did not imitate that benevolent practice vhieh sends the help to the hospital or the work house, to live or die as best she may, but called ia t physician, and tended the patient herself. The fever proved contagious. The maid recovered, but the mistress died. ? Since that calamity, Natalie bad filled a mother's place to Gertrude-in reality, though not in name. Van Flewker had not the remotest notion of marrying again. He had, after all, often found the tie of wedded life inconvenient, and was not, perhaps, altogether discontented to be once more free. He could now devote his entire mind to his grand object. He knew that he could place full conndence in Natalie, who therefore, nominally merely governess, was practically "'he mistress of the household. CHAPTER XIII. GERTRUDE AND NATALIE. IT is January now. Thick snow covers the pavement in Bloomsbury Square. In the more frequented thoroughfares the flaky carpet has been trodden into mire, in which the testy foot passenger slips. In the square, where tranic is less, the foot falls upon the hardened, unmelted substance with a Breaking tread. The dirty visage of Mr. Fox looks dirtier and more woe-begone than usual, beneath the covering ot' snow that surmounts his head. An icicic depending from the tip of that eminent statesman's nose vividly suggests that, if statues can feel, this particular effigy is aiHictecl with a violent cold. No. 4:3 x is the house where Fabian vau Flewker and his family reside and here, in a warm and comfortable room, beside a cheerful fire, sit Gertrude and Mademoiselle Lagrange, engaged in woman's pleasant work. A tall and well-grown Dgure, of sumciently full development to remove the appearance of excessive height, with a fair skinned face, a good complexion, regular features, and dark-grey eyes, above which rises a broad forehead, crowned with a profusion of light- brown hair-a kind face, with a sensible expression shining out of every feature; this is Gertrude van FIewker. Her mind and character accord with her appearance. She is large and liberal in her ideas beyond the wont of woman. She worships with, perhaps, an exaggerated idolatry everything that is good or noble. A daring action, a gallant exploit. bring the light to her eye and the ready praise to her lip. The low, the base, the sordid, or the cruel, awa,ke as UIl:6tra.W.ed and traiik a. condeaMta.tioa. and con-