The Tarboro' Southerner

A Paris Sensation.

Not long ago, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, in Paris, many of the numerous passers along the Boulevard Montmartre observed a lady of fifty years, clad with elegant simplicity, who suddenly paused before a man of immense stature, with hair tinged gray, a pale complexion, and flashing eyes. This man pronounced distinctly the words "Toujours moi"-always I-which were heard by all present. He then disappeared, while the lady fainted in terror and fell upon the pavement. She was borne into an apothecary shop, where a few attentions revived her, but as she was in a terribly nervous condition she was accompanied to her home.

Twenty years ago Mme. X-- was married. She was celebrated for her extraordinary beauty, and managed with her husband a very large business. One day, while alone in her shop, two men entered, and one, opening a porte-feuille, said: "Madame, I love you. You never take a step out of doors without being watched by me or my men. I have resolved to divide my fortune with you if you are not insensible to my love. Here is a contract for 40,000 francs in rent and 50,000 francs in bank notes, which I offer you. In exchange I demand you shall leave your husband and live in my chateau. In this hope I leave the contract and the 50,000 francs." And the two men left, saying to Mme. X-- that they would give her time to reflect over this. The lady was stupified.

About half an hour later the two returned to receive her answer. Indignant and insulted, Mme. X- declared that she had not even looked at their papers and money, that they had misjudged her, and threatened them with arrest. "We will go," replied one, "but you will repent your scorn."

The beautiful shop woman did not dare to speak of this singular adventure even to her husband. Eight days later they returned accompanied by four young men all very elegantly dressed. They seized Mme. X-- and despite her resistance she was made the victim of repeated outrages, after which those who had wronged her took to flight, leaving the lady insensible. This crime was made the subject of legal investigation, but the most earnest efforts of the police were fruitless.

A year after this event, Mme. X walking along the Rue de Paix, was saluted by a man who was in a splendid barouche drawn by four horses, with a lackey in livery behind. It was the author of the crime.

Since that time, every two or three years, when least expected, Mme. X- meets the mysterious unknown who, fixing upon her a magnetic glance repeats simply the words, 'Always I,' and disappears before she has recovered.

This is the last Paris sensation, and a vast number of respectable elderly ladies are sadly vexed by rumors which declare them to be the undoubted originals of this adventure.