me. I made my confession to Father Hans, and made it fully, so that I might feel at peace with myself. - ' Weil ?' said Father Hana, who had lisfce.v to me with knitted brows ; ' Wei! ?' ' 1 Father Hans, I feel that I aught not to go to Wildheino, but to return home, and "'.c^tVill serve me right,' " * Bravo !'\eried Father Haas ; ' you are a brave lad, antil know ow to reap the full benefit of yoiir lessons. I feel happy as to your future. Go home courageously,' added he j 'go straight to your mother, and never set off, in the same way, again.' Saying this, he lifted me from the ground as if I had been a feather, and embraced me This kiss of peace from Father Hans did great good. I went back without wavering. But what a thing it is to do right! The road that I now retrod, lightenod from the remorse that had made it long, seemed ohort and lovely to me; and what was more, all happened heme far better than I had expected. My mother understood as well as Father Hans, that a repentant sinner deserves to find mercy.[— From the French of Marechal in the 'Churchman.'

The Scarred Cheek.

sh^rould have sank upon the ground had |n^b. gentleman at that moment dashed s^t^^° the s P ot > lea Ped- irom Uls horse, and X^Wught her in his arms. I still held the bea g t j had caug ht by the bridle, but the noise of tne otner startled him, and with furioaß p i un g e he dashed from me. The let fly his heels, and one of his sharp shoes struck mo here.' ' I never saw the young lady again, nor did I come to my senses till over a week had passed away; but the circumstance p rov ed a fortunate one for me, for it threw me into the house of an honest miUer with whom x lived til j i waß twenty one> aad wu il e there I learned to play tho guitar and so proficient did I become fj f ' -nac . . , , -. , 'Hold!' exclaimed do Pommoy, who was fast turning white with strong emotion. 'Do you mean to say that you got that wonnd on the cheek by a kick from a horse ?' < Just as I have told you.' ' And were you never an officer in the army p1 'Never.' 1 Don't trifle with me, Monsieur Laval. I will not reveal your whereabouts, if you have enemies,' ' Enemies ! Reveal!' repeated Laval, with a marked degree of astonishment in his manner. 'I do not comprehend you.' ' In one word, Monsieur Laval, did you ever hold any post of honor under the Emperor Napoleon ?' 'Never,' ' Then you have most egregiously humbugged us!' exclaimed do Pommoy starting up from his seat. ' 1 am more in the dark now than ever,' said Laval, with forced calmness. ' We have always supposed you to be somebody.' ' So I am —a man.' 'O, pesto ! We have supposed you to bo one of the officers of Napoleon's army, and that you chose an incog, for fear of Louis, and with that understanding we have suffered your company.' 'I never gave out such an idea.' ' But you allowed others to entertain it. ' I never did, Monsieur de Pommoy. I never knew that such an idea with regard to myself was abroad. When I came to Paris a year ago, I settled quietly down in my present quarters, andl have sought the society of no one ' ' But you have cisited some of the first families in the city,' ' Yes—to give lessons on the guitar.' 'What dupes we have been!' uttered de Pommoy, 'It ijot whispered about that you were a hero, and your looks, your bearing, and, above all, that scar on your cheek, seemed to confirm the report. But a scavenger—a boot-black—a peddler —a miller's boy—a guitar teacher !—O !' ''2 With those incoherent words, Monsieur Hugh de Pommoy seized his hat, and fled from the apartment;. Towards evening Jean Laval descended from his room for a short walk. He turned to the lcfl, and passed along the Quai d'Orsay, and from thence he crossed the Point lloyal. When half way ucross he met soma half-dozen of his acquaint ances, and instinctively he smiled and raised his hat, but they sneered and turned away their heads, and ho heard the words ' Scavenger,' ' Beggar !' Jean Laval felt a cold chill upon his heart, and with a slower step he entered upon the Quai dcs Tuilleries where he met more of his quondam friends, and they, too, turned away to let him pass. ' They're all gone !' murmured Laval to himself. ' And this is the friendship of the world ! This is the heart of Parisian love. Had this scarred cheek of mine been gained upon the bloody battle-field of the Emperor, I should have been a hero and a man ; but now that it turns out that it was only gained in saving the life of a helpless fellow-creature, I am nothing. Thus speaking with himself, the euitar teacher kept on till ho reached the Point Louis XVI., aud having crossed the river, he turned his steps back to his room. That evening ho had a lesson to give, and as soon as it was dark he took his guitar and started oil". It was a princely mansion whore he stopped, in the .Kue St. llonorc, and upon ringing the bell, a servant appeared at the door, and at onco showed the applicant into a splendidly furnished drawing-room, where ho was soon joined by a girl who might have seen nineteen years, and perhaps twenty. She was not of that cast of feature that would at once strike the connoisseur as beautiful and some might have thought her rather too short and embonpoint; but be that as it may she was such a one as it would bo very easy to'lovo ; for her every movement and look, and the very light of her deep blue eyes, had a winning grace of kinrfness and good-nature, and the smile that seldom loft her dimpled cheeks sp»ke of a soul at porfect rest with its own conscience. Such was Julio d'Artoy, the only child of a wealthy and aristocratic widpw. ' I declare, Monsieur Laval, you look as though you had lost all your friends,' uttered Julie, as she noticed her teacher's melancholy look. ' Ah, I have few real friends to lose.' ' No real friends ? Why, there's Baillon, de Pommoy, Crasan, and—' ' They are no friends of mine.' 'O, fie ! You've had a quarrel. But you're not going to fight.' ' No, mademoiselle, 1 have had no quarrel' nor do I intend to fight.' 'I am glad of that,' quickly returned Julie.

BY SYLVANUS COBB, JUNE

Jean Laval was a guitar teacher. His room was near the corner of the Rue dcs Saints Peres and the Quai Voltaire. It was towards the middle of the day that Jean sat at his desk, engaged in compos ing a lesson for for his favorite instrument. He was a tall, gracefully-formed man, some where about thirty years of age, with a face full of sparkling intelligence and natural goodness, and lie would have been remarkably handsome had it not been for a large, frightful-looking scar upon his right cheek, I say a frightful-looking one, not because it looked so now. but because it must have been a frightful >ccasion that gave it. Yet Jean Laval rasa goodlooking man. Jean had just closed his portfolio, when c door of his room was thrown open, and 'oung and gaily-dressed man entered. Ah, Monsieur Laval,' said the new Jer, carelessly taking a seat. ' I'm o*4 I've caught you in. We are to have . Suous time to-night, and you must join g • h > j knowabo-.l *vat, de Pommoy,' WfflS|^d.L:iv- , ..uoughtfully.

'But why not?' asked Hugh de Pom moy, who was one of the most gallant young men of the gay Parisian circles. 'We can't get along without you. Just take your guitar along, and we'll give some of our fair friends a serenade. Come, don't say no.'

'I believe I must.' ' Pshaw ! Why, what's the matter with you, Laval ?'

' Nothing, only these gay scones don't suit me. lam not used to them.'

' No, I suppose not,' smilingly returned de Pommoy. ' You are more used to the rattle of arms and the smell of powder. By-the-way, now that we are alone, why can't you give me a sketch, of your history ? You've kept us in the dark on that subject.'

' My history would not interest you.' 'O, yes, it must be. Your's must have been an eventful life.'

1 It has been somewhat eventful,!?! own.'

' So I thought,' said de Pommoy ; ' and now if you have any reason for wishing it kept a secret, I assure you I will not betray it. Come, let's have it, for I've long been on nettles to know all about

>11," returned Laval, half reluctantly'

youVthink an outline of my life would <v \trest'you any, I'm sure I've noobject *^vn to giving it, though you may use your #n judgment about telling others.'

' G-o on,' said de Pommoy.

' I was born in this city,' commenced Jean Laval. 'My father was a poor scavenger.'

' A scavenger! echoed de Pommoy. 'However, the father of the King of Naples was- only an innkeeper.'

1 Wlien I was only six years of age I was left an orphan,' ho continued, ' and in order -to support myself I tried to work for a boot-black, and when I was eight years old I obtained a box, blacking and brushee, and went through the streets. I got a sou for every pair of boots I blacknd, and sometimes a gentleman would give me more. In one year I made out to save enough to buy me a tin case, and to fill it with pins, needlos, tapes, ribbons, etc., and with this I determined to push out and sco the country. In six months I had travelled through more than a dozen different departments, and had got back as fat as Alencon, whore I came across the fi?st real incident of my life. I was then only nine and a half years old, though I was remarkably stout for my ago. It was near dusk, and I was trudging along by the banks of the Sarte, when I was startled by a loud racket behind me, and on turning, I saw a horse coming towards me at a. leaping, plunging gallop, on the back of which was a young lady who was shrieking loudly for help. The whole course of my life had tended to make me bold and reckless, and dropping my tin case, I sprang forward just in time to seize the horse by the bridle, and he at once settled back upon his haunches. It was fortunate 1 caught the bridle as I did, for in another moment the animal would have plunged into the river. The lady quickly slippped from her saddle, and instinctively turned towards me. She was a beautiful creature, not over seventeen or eighteen years of age ; but her face was pale, and

' And why so ?' asked Laval, gazing sharply into the girl's face. ' O,' said Julie, with some hesitation, ' because if you should, I might lose my guitar teacher.' • That is the only friendship I have to lose,' Laval replied, with a tinge of bitterness. 'If I have a friend in Paris, it is a friendship founded only on interest.' ' But those gentlemen I mentioned have no such, motives ?' said Julie

' JN"o, and they are no friends of mine, as I have already said

' Then you must have been quarrel ling.'

' I have not, nor have I any inclination to do so.'

1 Then why are they not your friends now?' persisted Julie. 4 Because they never have been.' 'Never?'

'No, not to me as I am. They knew not that I was but a poor guitar teacher when they sought my acquaintance ; but when they discovered the fact, they not only cut me, but they sneeredjat me. Bat pardon me, mademoiselle, we will attend to our lesson.'

Julie brought her guitar, and endeavored to give her attention to the instruction she was receiving ; but it was some time ere she could understand the rules being laid down for her. At length, however, she became herself again, and ere the lesson was closed, she had begun to laugh and talk to play and sing, as was her wont. ' Now,' said she, as her teacher was about to take his departure, ' when you come again, I want you to come good natured ; for I declare I never shall learn any thing if you carry a long face all the time,' Jean Laval could not but smile at this request. ' There, there !' cried the laughing girl, 'just bring that smile back with you, and I'll promise to be as dilligent a scholar as you could possibly want.'

A month passed away, and during that time Jean met his former acquaintances often, but not one of them had deigned to notice him. At first these slights had cut him to the quick, but he had almost over come the bitter feeling now, and he had, moreover, resolved that as soon as he had fulfilled the professional engagements he had already entered into, he would leave Paris and seek some other place of abode.

Is it to be wondered at that such a heart as Jean Laval's should throb pleasantly beneath such kindness ? And is it a wonder that, lonely and almost friendless as he was, the attention.? of Such a being as Julie d'Artoy should have awakenedanew, a strong sensation in his bosom ? Circum stances, one after another, trivial in them selves, had been gradually and insensibly throwing the strong cord of love about his heart, and now, as he gazed into Julie's beaming, happy face, and heard her pleasant words, his fingers trembled upon tlie vibrating strings of his guitar, and he dared not look his pupil in the face.

' Come, coma, Monsieur Laval,' uttered Julie, playfully tapping him upon the shoulder, ' I could play that rondo better myself. Why, what is the matter ?

'Pardon me, Mademoiselle, if I have forgotten my promise.'

'I meant nothing but playfulness. Come, we'll try that part again.'

Jean played the second time

' There !' cried Julie, laying her guitar upon the table. ' 1 think I've learned enough for to-night. Now I want to show you my drawings.'

Thus saying, Julie tripped away, and soon returned with a portfolio of drawings. Now this was a dangerous occupation for poor Jean Laval, and he felt it to be so, but ho could no more have resisted the charm than a drowning man could have let pass a floating plank. For an hour he sat thus, and at the end of that time he took his leave.

Strange and manifold were tho sensa tions that moved in the bosom of Jean Laval as he sat in his room that night. One truth was open to him : He was almost madly in love with Julie d'Artoy. But why should he allow his thoughts to dwell upon her ? He, the cast-off of society, the poor teacher, thinking of one of the heiresses of Paris !

4 Only two more lessous,' ho naurmured, as he turned towards his sleeping apart ment, ' and then 1 shall see her no more. I can soon overcome this passion. And yet,' he continued, while his lips quivered and his voice trembled, ' It will sever the only tie of friendship my heart knows.'

Again Laval was by the side of Julie d'Artoy, and another lesson was finished. ' One more lesson will complete the term,' said Laval, as ho laid aside his guitar.

' Yes ; mother was speaking about it to day, and she says I must have another course of lessons.'

' Then you will have to get another teacher,' said Laval.

' Another teacher !' echoed Julie, look ing up in astorishment. ' Yes.'

' O, you are jesting.' ' I am serious, mademoiselle.' ' And have you got above teaching P'

'No.'

' Then what do you mean ?' ' I am going to leave Paris.'

'Then I will wait till you come" back. I shall lose nothing by practising some of my old lessons.' 'But I may never come back again.'

Julie gazed into Jean's eyes to see if he was in earnest. It required but a single glance, however, to settle that point, and the color began to foresake her cheeks.

'But why do you leave Paris?' she asked, at length. • I have nothing here for which, to remain,' he returned. 'Yes, you have. You have scholars here.'

' I shall have given all the lessons I have promised when you take your next, and then, if I want more scholars, I can find them in some other part of France. I must leave Paris '

'Is there any danger to you here? Jalie asked, with rather more earnestness than she was aware of. ' Danger ? No.' 1 Then you have business elsewhere ?' ' I shall seek it.'

'But why leave the place where you already have business enough, to rush into uncertainty ? Surely you must have formed some ties in our city—some friendships.' ' ISTone save such as I may have formed for my few scholars ; but that is only professional. We naturally become attached to those whom we are employed in instructing, even as you love your beautiful canaries,'

' And I should feel very sad to be separated from even one of them,' quickly returned the fair girl.

'Ay,' said Jean, in a mourful tone. ' because you not only feel attached to them, but you know that your attachment is reciprocated. lam not thus situated.' 'Then there is nothing in Paris that could induce you to stay—nothing that will give a pang to y.our heart in the separation ?' ' I oannot say that, mademoiselle,' returned Laval ; and then, with his eyes bent to the floor to hide the emotion that worked in his countenance, he continued, ' There is but one tie that can bind my heart to this place —one spot that I can ever look back upou with a glowing bosom. The memory of that I shall ever cherish within my hearf. of hearts.'

Julie d'Artoy played with the strings of her guiter as it lay upon the table, Her bosom heaved, and in the depths of her blue eyes there was gathering a bright moisture. ' Tell me of that tie,' she at length uttered, in a half-hushed, tremulous voice, at the same time looking up into her companion's face. ' And you will not be offended ?' * Certainly not.' ' Then, mademoiselle, there is one in Paris who has ever been kind to me, who has been a friend, and, I believe, a sympathizer. At first I felt a peculiar satisfaction in that being's company, and then, as I knew her better, I experienced a strange thrill of pleasure when I found myself by her side. That feeling ripened into love—a love so intense that my whole soul became wrapped up in it; and now, as I think of leaving the city, I feel that love stronger upon me. But the chains must be broken.' I

Julie bowed her head till her tresses swept her guitar-sfcrin^s

'You have not told me all,' she murmured.

' And would you know more ?' ' Yes—all.'

' That being of whom I have spoken is Julie d'Artoy!'

4 And you would have gone away, per haps forever, and not told me of this.' ' And not told you of it;!' repeated Jean Laval, starting with a sudden Bmot ion. ' Me, who passed my early years a poor, homeless, houseless wanderer, who have been almost the football of fortune, and am now nothing but a guitar teacher, love one like you, and then dare to breathe the thought' What meau you, mademoi selle !'

• I thought love would dare even life itself.'

'Ay, and so would mine, but it would not dare insult and scorne, and a hope less refusal.'

' It might not have suffered so much as that,' returned Julie, again bending her head.

' What! Do I understand you, or does some demon rack my brain ? You do not mean that you could love me?'

' Yes,'

Jean Laval started as that monosyllable fell upon his ear.

' O, do not trifle with mo !' 'I am not—l love you.' ' But you would not become my wife ?' ' If my mother consents.' 'Ah! Madame d'Artoy will never do that.'

' But you have not asked her.' ' And if I should, she wouldrefuse me.' ' If I will send her to you, will you try the experiment ?'

• Yes,' returned Laval, without actually knowing what he said.

Julia tripped lightly from the room, while Jean stood utterly confounded. He tried to reason upon the matter, but he only placed his hand upon his brow as if to assure himself that he was awake. He was satisfied that he was in his right mind, but ere he had a chance to think, the door was opened and Madame d'Artoy enterd. She was a proud-looking, stately womam—the very impersonation of an aristocrat; but yet there was muck of humanity in her still handsome coun tenance.

| Good evening, Monsieur Laval.' ' Good evening, madame.' 'My daughter says you would like to speak to me.' Laval was dumfounded. He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. At length* however, he made a desperate effort.

'You will not be' offended, ffladameP* 'I assure you not.' f

1 Then, madame, I— I — IOV61 OV6 daughter. Do not blame me.' * ' And do you think Julie would consenf P> asked Madame d'Artoy, in a calm tone ' Yes, yea,' eagerly replied Jean. «4 bade me ask your consent.' c ; Well,' said the lady, gazing calml upon the man before her, ' if you are b ffc content, I see not why I should object' | But remember, madarne, lam p OOr > ' But you are a hero, nevertheless La as my child has money enough, I canT no better than to- give her a protect who has already shown his bravery.' 41 will not suffer you to be deceived n that point, madame. It was an idle ton™ that set that story afloat. I am no hi nor was I ever in the army. I never w°' more than what I now appear, atd I h^ been much lower ; but yet the hand and heart I offer are unspotted by evil.' ' I had thought you were a hero' 'No.'

' Then how came that scarred cheek ?: • Ah, tnat scarred cheek seems to beinv evil genius. That was done, madame when I was a small boy. A horse was dashing furiously towards the bank of the river, and upon his back was a yonng lady. She was screaming for help, and I sprang forward and caught the bridle. T think I saved the lady's life; but-' " ' Stop, Monsieur Laval. I have heard that story before.'

' Yes. I told it to Monsieur Pommoy' At this moment Julie entered the draw ing-room. 'Julie,' said her mother as she turned towards her daughter, ' would you marry Monsieur Jean Laval ?'

' Certainly I would,' returned the fair girl, with a joyous look dancing over her face.

•Then your request becomes mutual1 said Madame d'^Artoy ; • and believing that you will make each other happy, I shall make this my answer.' And that answer was simply this • she led her daughter forward and placed her hand within that of Jean.

• Cau nil this be real?' murmured Jean gazing first upon Julie, and then upon her mother.

'Do you not esc it with your own eyes, and hear it wita jour own ears ?' 'Ah, Jean,' ntt-etni Julie, 'I h^ learned to lore before ever I saw you.' ' I do not. comprehend.' ' I loved you because you saved the life of my tmth?r.' 'Jean Laval,' said Madame d' Artoy 'you shall be in the dark no longer. I was the young girl whom you saved from a horrible death! It was my husband who came up and caught me in his arms We had been ma-r;ei then but just a week As soon as I recovered from the effects of my fright, we c-irne to Paris. li n . quired for you often, though, perhaps, yon knew it not, and I never failed to learn that you were an honest, upright; yonth Eight years ago I went to Alencontosee you, but the old miller tola rue thafiyounad gone to Germany to study music, and I heard nothing more from you till about sis mouths ago, when ova of my friends spoke to me of a man who was giving her daughter lessons on the harp. She re commended him highly, and when she informed me that he "was principally a guitar teacher, I requested her to send him to me, as I wished to procure a teacher for Julie. The moment I that scarred cheek, I kne«- you. My dearest gratitude Lad not lost sight of its object. Julie was pleased with you, and so 1 determined to let matters take their own course without revealing myself, and,' continued the widow, with a smile, ' 1 think they have now come to a crisis.' ' And is _it not a happy one ?' asked Julie, iooking up into her lover's face, with a roguish, expression dimpJing and wreathing about her countenance.'

1 Happy !' cried Laval, while the bright tear-drops gathered in his eyes. •0, 'tis happiness almost too great!' ' Then keep part of it for the future/ said Madame d' Artoy. ' No, no,' said Julie ; < I'll find him in happiness for the future.' •And if God. spares, it shall bo all spent for you. my dear girl !♦ exclaimed Jean, and with a bounding heart he clasped thejjfair girl to his bosom.

' So your scarred cheek is nofc such an evil geneus after all,' remarked Madame d' Artoy.

Laval only smiled, and drew bis arm more closely abont the priceless jeweU he tad won.

People wondered when it was an nounced that Jean Laval had married Julia d' Artoy; and his quondam friends tried hard to get themselves back in his good graces ; but he chose for him self a circle of truer hearts, and, with his lovely bride to bless, him, he walked in the even tenor of his happy way. As soon as his character was generally known and appreciated, the wonder at the marriage ceased, and, with injnienw wealth at his command, he commenced making happiness for others. The poor toil-worn scavenger, who recieved tie liberal bounty of Monsieur Laval, little thought that noble man was once a scaven ger like himself; and thousands there were in Paris who knew him not by name, but who yet often had occasion to bless from the innermost recesses of then hearts ' that kind-hearted, generous nian with the scarred cheek!'

Printed and Published by the Proprietor, Eh®B* BaETT. of ParneU, at lus CMicral Steam Printis* Office, Wyndham-stieet, in the City of AneM«Wi New Zealand: - Saturday, NoYeinbcr ', JS7fc

EVENING STAR SUPPLEMENT, NO_YEMBER r4, 1876.