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Show H j m A, CcfVernat Uragedy. B g B By Alain Morsang. H J' flj "Well, yes, this wine is good. Still, I prefer the ! .jjitbe", as I said a while ago. Just wait till we ! Hi have let down the barrel into-the cave and then I ; 11 will give you a .sample of my favorite vintage." ; II The old engraver uttered these words with a m i j ft fl little mysterious smile fitting across his watchful B II ' Mi loco, while his young wife, Colette, and her cousin, B ll k Gervais, approached their knees below the table, B St and managed to signal o each other their Im- B ji fl patience at the slowness with which the repast B t I if approached its finish. B j H Through the window, the soft spring air carried B I If in the subtle perfume of roses and hyacinths and B 'if I ' II the 3yous sonKs o numerous birds building their B $ j I nests in the garden. 'The brilliant rays of the sun B i j played upon the immaculate tablecloth and the B I II few antique pieces of furniture within, the little B . dining room. B j I I , i He was a, veritable artist this engraver BH I I whose little eyes glittered with malice and sus- B j picion. With his big red fingers, he could use his B I tiny tools with the utmost of dexterity, and trans- B f If form woofl and nietal into little, delicate objects B f m of art much sought after by dealers in bric-a-brac. B I f" f His life was one of comparative uneventful- jB J f 1 1 nets. His greatest pride and only source of real H I happiness was the youthful, beautiful woman who Hj I had consented to join her life to his. He loved B, f I her with almost ferocious intensity, with all the B'i 1( forces and desires of his heart, which had re- Bj ;j ' 1 mained young, in spite of his sixty-five years. To H' I ' him, she appeared more precious and essential H , I j than the sun. She was dearer to him than life Bj I I ! Itself. The mere touch of her soft hand accelerat- B , Ji If ed the flow of his blood and made his aged heart H. 'f Ifi throb faster. ' $ fl Her cousin, Gervais, had a had reputation. He , was handsome as a god, and strong as a savage. I He owned a farm at the end of the village and lived a gladsome, happy-go-lucky IJfe. He was an I expert in hunting, drinking and fighting, and, on account of this, the terror and. admiration of the whole community. His principal occupation, however, consisted in courting pretty wives and ( daughters. He was distrusted by all the husbands and 1 ' fathers of the village who could boast of feminine attractions in their household. They liked his jo-viallty jo-viallty of manner and laughed at his jokes, but Vesented his Don Juan ruses and success'tfs. Ho was the cock who triumphed wherever he went. 1 The pretty hens followed him willingly wherever he led. All the woods and gardens of the village ' 'had witnessed scenes of love in which he played "a, part. Gervais, the woman thought, was simply irresistible. Colette was the-last who had aroused the cu- pidity of his. amorous jfasslons. Her blonde hair,' H I ' 1 her perfect complexion her coquettish eyes, her B ' Jjj little tempting laugh, had made Gervais her de- H j 1 ' .voted admirer and lover. H ', j He had been invited to take luncheon at the Hi fl I engraver's house, and, of course, responded eager- ly. When the old man observed, in the course of conversation, that he Intended to lower a barrel bar-rel of wine into the cave after thexepast, Gervais promptly proffered" his services, and" the shuq were' gratefully accepted. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon, when the engraver left the room to seek for the rope to be used in the undertaking. During his absence, the two lovers fairly devoured each other oth-er with eyes that glistened with expectant passion. pas-sion. They stood close together, laughing ever and anon at the 'trap-trap" of the old man's wooden shoes, as he went from room to room in quest of the needed rope. At last Gervais could no longer restrain himself. him-self. Throwing caution to the winds, he put forth his arm, drew Colette towards him, pressed her tightly to his breast, and implanted a burning kiss upon her lips. They had hardly time to separate before the husband made his entrance through a lateral .door. Colette, much embarrassed, pretended to be busy at the table. Gervais, accustomed to such things, preserved his sangfroid. He could see no caiue for embarrassment. The old man had apparently ap-parently not seen anything, h's thoughts being entirely concentrated upon his rope and his wine. Besides, he was not to be feared, being of a rather rath-er shrinking and peaceable nature. "Well, come along," said the artist. "Colette may follow us with a light." They passed through the garden and entered the cave, the door t to which was massive and completely covered with luxuriant moss. In ancient times, the cave had served as a crypt to a monastery, long since destroyed. de-stroyed. A sheer endless flight of narrow steps led down into its capacious, glacial gloom. As the heavy door was thrown open, a sepulchral air struck the faces qf the two men and woman. "Hero ybu are, Gervais"!". said the old man. "What I desire you to do, is to hold the barrel while it descends, and to guide it in its course. I remain up here and manipulate the rope and Colette Co-lette will have to hold the lantern so that you may see sufficiently while you go down the steps. The barrel had begun its descent. The long rope slid through the steel ring fastened to the wall with a croaking sound and tautened until It'teemed as if it surely would snap in twain. Ger-valsHhad Ger-valsHhad a most difficult task. It took all his young strength to support the heavy barrel; big ' beads of perspiration could be seen standing on his high forehead. Colette watched the proceedings with evident anxiety and fear. She stood on the first few steps and held the lantern as high as she could. All she could see of Gervais was his white face; the rest of his dear body was completely hidden by the huge barrel. "Well Gervais is everything well?" cried down the. old man. "Yes," replied Gervais,' "but the barrel seems to be a little too heavy. Be careful not to make a false step." The rope suddenly ceased to descend, and in a resonant and terrifying voice, the. question came from above; "What would you say if I were to let go?" Profound silence followed these words. Ger. vais felt-behind him the awful, yawning depth of the crypt, while before him he saw the rope the end of which rested in the hands of Colette's husband. His life, he realized, hung by a most fragile thread. From where he stood, trembling beneath the brutal bulk of the barrel, he could see the lantern lan-tern swinging in Colette's hand, and, still further above, through the antique door, a little bit of azure sunlit sky. With dilated eyes, reflecting incipient terror Gervais saw all this as in a dream. And then he understood that the old man, who stood far above him, with a diabolical expression on his face, had surprised them in the dining room, and laid a trap from which Gervais would never escape. The unfortunate young man made no effort to shout for help, realizing full well its utter frutil-ity. frutil-ity. He had been trapped, and he knew that his enemy would allow of no rescue, nor give any quarter. Gervais's doom was sealed; sepulchral night was about to engulf him. There was a pause of ten seconds that seemed like two centuries. And then somebody said: "Now watch your paramour, Colette." The woman's piercing shriek awakened the slumbering echoes of the ancient cave, and then there was a terrible noise of breaking wood followed fol-lowed by the agonizing groans of a man whoso young life was being squeezed out of his body and whose bones were being broken to pieces The old man kept silent until the last sound of the cavernal tragedy had died away in the depths of the crypt, and then he broke into a light, rasping rasp-ing laugh. Adapted from the French for the St Louis Mirror by Francis A. House. |