Pauls Valley Sentinel (Pauls Valley, Indian Terr.), Vol. 1, No. 35, Ed. 1 Thursday, November 17, 1904 Page: 13 of 16
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LOUISIA1VA.
BY jMARY DEVEREUX
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY DON C. WILSON
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>•, CHAPTER II.
Through the weeks of tlie late sum-
mer, old Tatro, the butler, had been
attending the meetings held by the
peasants. But, being a firm believer
in the old regime, he had reported
faithfully to Monsieur le Baron all
that had transpired at these gather-
ings, telling him of the vicious
speeches made by Fauchel, and of the
latter's evident determination to in-
fluence the peasants against the peo-
ple of the chateau.
On a certain September morning,
after one of these reports from Tatro,
the baron said, "Find Margot, and
send her to me."
When the faithful old servant had
left the room his master looked out
of the window toward the park; but
his darkly circled eyes saw seething
quite different from the trees silhouet-
ted against the cloudless blue of the
sky.
They saw the pale, angry face of
Tomas Fauchel, the young schoolmas-
ter, who, meeting the baron as he
came from the magistrate's door with
the pretty, sixteen-year-old daughter
of the Huguenot minister clinging to
his arm, had said, as he barred their
way, "To-day, Monsieur le Baron, you
have won, and have taken for wife
her whom her dead father gave to me
when he refused you, a Papist. But
1 warn you to beware of the day when
1 shall seek my revenge!"
The baron, in the strength of his
vigorous manhood, and in the happy
dreams of his passionate love, had
laughed at the melodramatic threat
of his humble rival. And to-day,
white-haired and lonely, he smiled
disdainfully as he recalled it.
But the smile died softly in a sigh
that was almost a moan, as thought
of the narrow mound he had looked
upon the spring before, banked with
violets and snowdrops, in the old
churchyard by the Loire, near the
cottage where he had known a brief
year's dream of happiness.
But he now roused himself as Mar-
got entered, and bade her to be seat-
ed.
"Margot, I have sent for thee that
I may unburden my mind somewhat
as to matters which have been weigh-
ing heavily upon me for many months
past," he began.
Margot looked at him in silent won-
der mingled with some alarm, as she
could see no reason for his words, nor
for the mood which seemed to inspire
them.
"These are troublous times," he re
sumed more calmly, and dropping the
familiar manner of speech he had pre'
viously used; "times when but a few
hours suffice to turn affairs from ap-
parent security into confusion and
danger. I wish, therefore, to place a
considerable sum of money in your
care, for I feel that perhaps it may be
safer with you than with me. It is all
I have of my own to give Jean; and
it will relieve me to know that, no
matter what may come to me, or how-
ever Etienne may seek to rob the boy,
ray Jean will never know actual
want."
The baron was now standing by the
side of his desk; and pressing the
edge of a panel in the oaken wain-
scoting, it flew disclosing a
small recess, wherein were a small
metal box and a number of little can-
vas bags.
"Come here," he said, turning to
look at Margot over his shoulder.
! She came to his side.
"See," he explained; "you do so, and
so," showing her how to manipulate
the secret spring. Then, after closing
the panol, he added, "See now iX you
can open it."
She did so, and the panel opened
,ftgtin.
"Ah, that is well. Now you Irnow
where the boy's fortune is hidden,
and I ti'ust you to guard it for him.
The bags contain gold coin, and the
dox holds a few jewels, that are his,
as they were his mother's; also some
papers, for which the future may
show need, should any one seek to
deprive him of his rights as my son.
I shall leave it to your discretion as
to when and where you will take them
from their present hiding-place. Re-
member, Margot, I charge you sol-
emnly, that when 1 am not here, if—
if 1 am taken away, I trust you, above
all others, to protect my boy's future,
and provide for his welfare."
"That will I do with my life!" Mar-
got declared fervently.
It was toward sunset that same day
when Jean came running in to an-
nounce that he had seen soldiers rid-
ing up the winding roadway that led
through the park.
Bidding the boy keep out of sight
until the cause of such a visit could
be ascertained, Monsieur le Baron de-
scended to the reception-room, where
the officer in command of the sol-
diers soon presented himself, and de-
livered a letter from Couthon, in
which the baron's hospitality was re-
quested for the hearer and his escort.
The fact was that Etienne, recently
angered by his father's refusal to in-
crease his already liberal allowance,
had, with characteristic villany, let
ish form. "Is it thou, my beloved
Pizarro?"
"Truly it is, little Monsieur de So-
to," answered Lieutenant Bonaparte,
laughing as he kissed Jean's flushed
cheeks, while the baron looked on
with amazement, and old Tatro
paused in the report ho was making
as to the soldier's dinner in the outer
hall, to stare with equal surprise at
these demonstrations of affection be-
tween the stranger and his master's
son.
When they were seated the officer
explained to Monsieur le Baron—al-
though in a way not to bring in the
name of Etienne—how he had come
to know the boy; and Jean, now quite
in his element, and entirely at ease,
rattled on after a fashion that relieved
his father from any extra effort in en-
tertaining his guest.
It was nearing ten o'clock. The of-
ficer and his host were seated in the
drawing-room, having a game of chess,
with Jean, very proud and correspond-
ingly sleepy, because of sitting up so
long beyond his usual bed-time, watch-
ing them from a near-by divan, when
Tatro. his face and voice showing the
greatest alarm, rushed into the room
and exclaimed, "Mon Dieu, Monsieur
le Baron! The peasants! A great
crowd of tiiem are coming up the ave-
nue! Hark—you can hear their
shouts!"
The chessmen and board fell to the
floor as both players sprang from
their chairs; and Jean, all sleepiness
banished from his eyes, stood beside
them.
"Call my soldiers at once," ordered
Bonaparte, speaking to Tatro. "Mon-
sieur le Baron," he added, turning to
him, "we will do all in our power for
your protection."
The dozen soldiers appeared, and
were ordered to post themselves in
the hall, where they stood, with ready
arms, behind their commander and
the baron, who were nearer the stout-
^
B
fall some insinuations impeaching the
latter's loyalty to the Revolutionary
cause; and the officer, who had been
ordered upon a mission which would
take him several leagues beyond the
chateau, was instructed to stop there
upon his return, the object being that
the Committee might, from the man-
ner in which the baron received his
uninvited guests, form a better idea
as to his true sentiments.
Jean did not deem it wise to pre
sent himself until the dinner hour
should arrive, but had passed the
time in questioning Margot and Tatro
as to the probable meaning of this
strange invasion of the chateau s pri-
vacy. Then, going in to the dining-
room with an unusually subdued air,
although his heart was fluttering with
oxcltement, the lad's shyness evapo-
rated in a glad shout at sight of the
officer standing before the fireplace,
where burning logs made cheerful the
apartment and warmed the chill even-
ing air.
"Aha!" he cried, precipitating him-
self upon his father's guest, whose
arms went quickly around the boy-
"ls it thou, my beloved Pizarro?"
ly barred door, listening to the wild
hubbub of voices now close to the
chateau.
The lieutenant waited until there
was a lull in the noice; then, raising
his voice, he called out, "Have a care
what you do, for the baron is not with-
out protectors. I am an officer of the
Assembly; and in its name I bid you
disperse."
There was silence, as if those out-
side were surprised at signs of an
unexpected resistance.
There were more than fifty men out-
side: with them were some women;
and Tomas Fauchel was their leader.
"Monsieur le Baron, will you per-
mit me to arrange the defence as I
see fit?" inquired the young officer,
turning to his host.
"Most assuredly, sir; for I have full
confidence in your ability," was the
reply.
"Then extinguish every light in this
hall, and close all the doors leading
from it, so that all here will be in
darkness," said the lieutenant, now
speaking authoritatively. "And do you,
Greloire."—looking toward his sol-
diers—"wivli Murier and Leboeuf,
stand here beside Monsieur le Baron.
Watch that broken window, and put
a ball into every head that appears
there."
Greloire saluted silently, and the of-
ficer continued: "ir Tatro will act as
guide, to pilot myself and the ethers
out through some unobserved way, wo
will make a detour, and treat our
friends to an attack in the flank."
Some of the hurled-in torches had
lit the hall for a moment; but they
were quickly extinguished by the
baron.
A moment later the discharge of
musketry outside told that the lieu-
tenant and his men hid come upon
the scene. Then the air was rent by
more yells and imprecations, but with
a sound in them bespeaking dismay
on the part of the surprised maraud-
ers.
A second volley rang out, and tho
officer's voice was heard. "Steady,
my men. Load and Are at will, or club
your muskets. Teach these people a
lesson—one in the name of the As-
sembly."
Those in the hall now saw a flam-
ing torch thrust through the window.
It was held by Tomas Fauchel, who
waved it wildly as he shouted, "Show
thyself, thou craven baron, for neither
man nor devil shall force mo from
this place until I have kept my oath,
and killed thee!"
The light of his torch fell upon tho
uplifted face—white and stern—of the
baron, who said, laying his hand upon
tne musket with which Leboeuf was
taking aim at the half-crazed fanatic,
"Do him no harm, let him live.''
Fauchel, who had heard the words,
answered them with a mocking laugh,
and quickly extending his other hand,
pulled the trigger of a nistol, as ho
tossed his torch into the hall and
yelled, "Die, tlTou damnable Papist,
and take to hell wilh thee no thanks
of mine for sparing my life."
The baron reeled, for he was struck
fairly in tho forehead. But he was
caught by Leboeuf, and his dead form
was not laid upon the floor before Gre-
loire had planted a musket-ball in
Fauchel's head, and tumbled him
from the ladder—dead as the man ho
had assassinated.
His fallowers, terrified by the lieu-
tenant's unexpected attack, were now
flying like scared sheep; and tfft; fight
was ended.
An hour later the silence that
wrapped the chateau would have re-
pelled the thought of such an uproar
having raged within it so recently.
The dead had been laid in upper
rooms, and Margot had gone to her
own part of the house, leaving Jean
jn the drawing-room with the lieuten-
ant, who was now walking up and
down, and now sitting on the divan,
beside the passionately grieving boy,
to whom he spoke words of tenderest
sympathy, stroking the dark hair, or
holding the burning hands in a cool
clasp that was infinitely soothing.
Some of the soldiers took turm il
mounting guard in the lower hall, far
fear of a possible renewal of the at-
tack. But tho peasants' outburst was
evidently spent, for the present,
least, as nothing happened to dlsiwrtj
the silence of the succeeding hours.
(To be continued.)
I
Why John L. Doesn't Train.
John L. Sullivan, in one of tha
vaudeville houses, was telling tho
story of his career. Someone in tho
audience asked him why he did not
train down and take some of Hie fli-sh
off his stomach. He replied: "Boys,
if I could have as much fun taking off
the flesh as I had putting it on I
would gladly do it any day in tho
week."
Useless Talk.
Ascum—Your daughter's young man
interviewed you last night, didn't he?
Grouch—Yes, and sucli a stupid fel-
low. He hasn't any sense at all.
Ascum—Ah, then you won't have
him as a son-in-law?
Grouch—I? What have I to do with
it? The idea of his coming to mo
when the girl and her mother are sat-
isfied! If he had any sense he'd know
that settled it.
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Pauls Valley Sentinel (Pauls Valley, Indian Terr.), Vol. 1, No. 35, Ed. 1 Thursday, November 17, 1904, newspaper, November 17, 1904; Pauls Valley, Indian Territory. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc110192/m1/13/: accessed May 2, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.