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Show MAJDg of (0ri WW&4 Author of "Cardigan" The Conspirators" Maids -at -Arms' etc aWgfaaSag Safff. COPYRIGHT gy ROBT. CHAMBERS CppyRICrrtT gy P.F. COLLIER SO 8YN0PSIS. Scarlett nn American soldier of fortune for-tune tn the employ of the l-'reneh Imperial Im-perial Police at the outbreak of the Franco- Prussian war. is ordered to arrest John Burktmrst. a leader of the Com-munldta Com-munldta and suspected of having stolen lh I-'rench crown Jewels. While searching search-ing for Buckhurst. Scarlett Is ordered to arrest Countess de Vassart and her group of socialists' and escort them to the Bel-tlan Bel-tlan border. Scarlett finds Sylvia Riven rf the Odeon disguised as a peasant and .-arrles her to La Trappe where the rountess and her friends are assembled. All are arrested. The countess saves Rrarlett from a fatal fall from (he roof of (he house. He denounces Buckhurst us the leader of the Reds and the countess coun-tess conducts him to where Buckhurst Is eereterl. G-rman Uhlans descend nn the place and Burkhurit escapes durlna-the durlna-the melee. Scarlett Is wounded. He recovers re-covers consciousness In the countess' house at Morsbronn. where he Is cared Tor by the countess. A fierce battle Is : TouRht In the streets between French anil Prussian soldiers. Buckhurst pro- f fesses repentence and returns the crown ' lewels to Scarlett. He declares he will elve himself up to the authorities. Scarlett Scar-lett doubts his sincerity. Buckhurst ureea the countess to go to Paradise. Buckhurst Buck-hurst admits that he receives pay from I he Prussians for information which he doea not give. He secures passports to Ihe French lines for Scarlett, the coun-teM coun-teM and himself. Scarlett reports to the secret service in Paris and finds Mor-nac, Mor-nac, shadow of the emperor in charge. ITe deposits the crown Jewels. CHAPTER VIM. Continued. The shock came almost Immediately, Immediate-ly, for, without a word, he suddenly emptied the Jewel-bag on the desk before him. The bag contained little pebbles wrapped in tissue-paper. "Suppose you explain this farce?" Mornac suggested, unmoved. "Suppose you explain It!" I stammered. stam-mered. He raised his delicately arched eyebrows. eye-brows. "What do you mean?" "I mean tkat an hour ago that bag sontained the diamonds from the crucifix cru-cifix of Louis XI.! I mean that I handed them over to you on my arrival arri-val at this bureau!" ' "Doubtless you can prove what you Bay," he observed. "It seems to me that it ie "high time we abolished the Foreign Division, Imperial Military Police." Po-lice." "I refuse to be discharged!" I said, hoarsely "It is your word against mine; 1 demand an investigation!" "Certainly," he replied, almost wearily, wear-ily, and touched a bell. "Bring that witness," he added to the soldier who appeared in answer to the silvery summons. sum-mons. Somebody entered the room behind me, passed me; there was an odor of violets in the air, a faint rustle of silk, and I saw Mornac rise and bow to his v guest and conduct her to a chair. His guest was the young Countess de Vassart. Mornac turned directly on me. "Madame, do you know this officer?" "Yes," said the countess, smiling. "Did you see him receive a small sack of diamonds in Morsbronn?" The countess gave me a quick glance of surprise. "Yes," she said, wonder-Ingly. wonder-Ingly. "Thank you, madame; that is sufficient," suffi-cient," he replied; and before I could understand what he was about he had conducted the countess to the next room and had closed the door behind him. "Quick!" muttered Speed at my elbow; el-bow; "let's back out of this trap. liis Mil Smm "I Refute to Be Discharged!" There's no use; he's one of them, and he mains to ruin you." "But he's got those diamonds! Do you think I can stand that?" "I think you've got' to," muttered Speed, savagely. "Do you want to rot in Cayenne? If you do, stay here and bawl for a court-martial." He seized me with a growl of "Idiot! come on!" and fairly shoved me through the colonnades of the iusti-tute, iusti-tute, aloug the quay, down the river- wall, to a dock where presently a swift river boat swung in for passengers. passen-gers. And when the bateau mouche shot out again into mid stream, Speed and I stood 6ilently on deck, watching the silver-gray facades of Paris fly past above us under the blue sky. W-e sat far forward, quite alone, and separated from the few passengers by the pilothouse and joined funnel. I waited; Speed chewed his cigar grimly. "Look here, Scarlett," he said. "Do you know what has become of the crown jewels of France?" "No," I said. "Well. I'll tell you. You know, of course, that the government is anxiou6. But you don't know what a pitiable fright the authorities are in. The crown jewels, the bars of gold of the reserve, the great pictures from the Louvre, the antiques of value, including includ-ing the Venus of Milo, have been packed in cases and loaded on trains under heavy guard. "Twelve of these trains have already left Paris for the par-port of Lorlent. The others are to follow, one every twenty-four hours at midnight. A swift cruiser the Fer-de-Lance is lying oft Paradise with steam up night and day, ready to receive the treasures of the government at the first alarm and run for the French possessions in Cochin-China. Cochin-China. "And now, perhaps, you may guess why Buckhurst is so anxious to hang around Paradise." Of course I was startled. Speed's muttered information gave me the keys to many doors. And behind each door were millions and millions and millions of francs' worth of plunder. Our eyes met in mute interrogation; Speed smiled. "Do you remember an application for license from the manager of a traveling American show a Yankee circus?" "Byram's Imperial American circus?" cir-cus?" I said. "That's it. They went through Normandy Nor-mandy latt summer. Well, Byram's agent is going to meet us at Saint-Cloud. Saint-Cloud. We're engaged; I'm to do ballooning bal-looning you know I worked one of the military balloons before Petersburg. Peters-burg. You are to do sensational riding. rid-ing. You were riding-master in the Spahis were you not?" "I tamed three lions for my regiment regi-ment at Constantinople," I said. "Good lad! Then you can plajy with Byram's lions, too. Oh, what the devil!" he cried, recklessly; "it's all in a lifetime.." PART SECOND. CHAPTER IX. The Road to Paradise. On the 3rd of November Byram's American circus, traveling slowly overland over-land toward the Spanish frontier, drew up for an hour's rest at Quimperle. I, however, as usual, prepared to ride forward to select a proper place for our encampment, and to procure the necessary license. We were in seedy circumstances; an endless chain of bad luck had followed fol-lowed ur, from Chartres. The fortune that Byram had made in the previous year was already gone; we no longer traveled by rail; we no longer slept at inns; we could barely pay for the food for our animals. "Got enough cash for the license?" asked Byram, uneasily. "Plenty, governor; don't worry." I replied, and set my horse at a gallop I over the old stone briJRe. I passed a stone hoiirie, another; then the white road curved under the trees and 1 rode straight into the heart of Paradise, my horse's hoofs awaking echoes in the silent, stone-paved . square. A young girl with a face like the Madonna stole across the square in her felt shoes. "Can you tell me where the mayor lives?" I asked, looking down at her from my horse. "Ho! ia; oui, monsieur, si'l faut bien. The mayor is at breakfast in his kitchen kitch-en yonder." "Thank you, my child." I turned my horse across the shady square to a stone house banked up with bed on bed of scarlet geraniums. The windows were open; a fat man with very small eyes sat inside eating an omelet. I told him that I wanted a license for a circus to camp for one night; that I also desired permission to pitch camp somewhere in the vicinity. He made out the license, stamped it, handed hand-ed it to me, and I paid him the usual fee. "How much will it cost to have your town-crier announce the coming of the circus?" I inquired. "That will cost ten sous if he drums and reads the announcement from here to the chateau." I gave the mayor ten copper pennies. pen-nies. The mayor glanced at me. "Paris still holds out?" he asked, with a yawn. "Oh yes," I replied. "And the war is it still going badly for us?" "There is always hope," I answered. "Hope," he grumbled; "oh yes, we know what hope is we of the coast live on it when there's no bread; but hope never yet filled my belly for me. Why, not a keel has passed out of the port since August. Where is the fishing fish-ing fleet? Where are the sardine sloops that ought to have sailed from Algiers? Where are the Icelanders?" "Have the German cruisers frightened fright-ened all your craft from the sea?" I asked, astonished. "Yes, partly. Then there's an ugly French cruiser lying off Groix, yonder, and her black stacks are dribbling smoke all day and all night. We have "I'll Cry Your Edicts and I'll Drum for You, Tool" orders to keep off and use Lorient when we want a port." i "You believe the cruiser out at sea ' yonder is going to bring you evil?" 'She has brought it. But it's all the same to me. I am mayor, and exempt, and I have cider and tobacco and boudin for a few months yet." At that moment we both caught sight of a peasant running and waving a packet of blue papers in the air. "Monsieur the mayor! Monsieur the mayor!" he called, while stilt far away. "Cre cochon de znalheur!" muttered the mayor, turning pale. "He's got a telegram!" He turned to me, almost bursting with suppressed prophecy. "It has come the evil that the black cruiser brings us! You laughed! Tenez, monsieur; there's your bad luck in these blue morsels of paper!" And he snatched the telegram from the breathless measenger, reading it with dilating eyes. When at length the magistrate had mastered the contents of his telegram, he looked up with a stupid stare. "1 want my drummer. Where's the town-crier ?'; he demanded, as though dazed. "He has gone to Lorient, m'sieu the mayor," ventured the messenger. "To get drunk. I remember. Imbecile! Im-becile! Why did he go today? Are there not six other days in this cursed week? Who is there to drum? Nobody. No-body. Nobody knows how in Paradise. Para-dise. Seigneur, Dieu! the ignorance of this town!" "M'sieu the mayor," ventured the messenger, "there's Jacqueline." "Ho! Vrai. The Lizard's young one! She can drum, they say." "The little witch can drum them awake in Ker-ls," muttered the messenger. mes-senger. The mayor rose, looked around the square, frowned. Then he raised his voice in a bellow: "Jacqueline! Jacqueline! Jac-queline! Thou Jacqueline!" A far voice answered, faintly breaking break-ing across the square from the bridge: "She is on the rocks with her sea-rake!" sea-rake!" The mayor thrust the blue telegram into his pocket and waddled out of his garden, across the square, and up the path to the cliffs. Uninvited, I went with him. CHAPTER X. The Town-Crier. The bell in the unseen chapel ceased ringing as we came out on the cliffs of Paradise, where, on the horizon, the sun hung low, belted with a single ribbon of violet cloud. Below the cliffs, on a crescent of flat sand, from which sluggish, roey rivulets rivu-lets crawled seaward, 1 a man stood looking out across the water. And the mayor stopped and called down to him: 'Ohe, the Lizard! I want somebody some-body to drum and read a proclamation. Where's Jacqueline?" At this instant a young girl, a mere child, appeared on the beach, dragging a sea-rake over the ground behind her. She was a lithe creature, bare-limbed and ragged, with the sea-tan on throat and knee. The girl caught sight of the mayor and gave him a laughing greeting which he returned with a shrug. "If you want a town-crier," she called up, in a deliciouely fresh voice, scarcely tinged with the accent, "I'll cry your edicts and I'll drum for you, too!" The girl threw her rake into a boat and leaped upon the rocks at the base of the cliff. "Jacqueline! Don't come up that way!" bawled the mayor, horrified. "Hey! Robert! Ohe!! Lizard! Stop her or she'll break her neck" Breathless, hot, and laughing, the girl pulled herself up over the edge of the cliff. I held out my hand to aid her, but she pushed it away, crying, "Thank you all the same, but here I am." The mayor looked at her angrily, but, probably remembering he was at her mercy, suppressed his wrath and held out the telegram. "Can you read that, my child?" "Yes, I can read it. Why not? Can't you?" "Read? I the mayor of Paradise!" repeated the outraged magistrate. "What do you mean, lizard of lizards! gorse cat!" "Now if you are going to say such things I won't drum for you," said the child, glancing at me out of her sea-blue sea-blue eyes and giving a shake to her elf-locks. I gave her a hand-bill; at the- first glance her eyes sparkled, the color deepened under her coat of amber tan; she caught her breath and read rapidly to the end. "Oh, how beautiful," she said, softly. "Am I to read this in the square?" "I will give you a franc to read it, Jacqueline." "No, no only oh, do let me come in and see the heavenly wonders! Would you, monsieur? I I cannot pay but would could you let me come in? I will read your notice, anyway," any-way," she added, with a quaver in her voice. "Come whenever you like, Jacqueline," Jacque-line," I said. "Ask for me at the gate." "And who are you, monsieur?" "My name is Scarlett." Scarlett," she whispered, as though naming a sacred thing. The mayor, who had toddled some distance ahead of us, now halted in the square, looking back at us through the red evening light. "Jacqueline, the drum is in my house. I'll lend you a pair of sabots, too. Come, hasten little idler!" We entered the mayor's garden, where the flowers were glowing in the luster of the setting sun. The mayor soon reappeared with drum and drumsticks drum-sticks in one hand and a pair of sabots in the other. "Go, my childj," he said, and Jacqueline marched through the garden out Into the square by the fountain, foun-tain, drum-sticks clutched in one tanned fist, the scrolls of paper in the other. In the center of the square she stood a moment, looking around, then raised the drum-sticks; there came a click, a flash of metal, and the quiet square echoed with a startling outcrash. Already Al-ready a knot of people had gathered around her; others came swiftly to windows and doorsteps; the loungers left their stone benches by the river, the maids of Paradise flocked from the bridge. The drum-roll ceased. "Attention! Men of Finistere! By order of the governor of Lorient, all men between the ages of twenty and forty, otherwise not exempt, are ordered or-dered to report at the navy yard barracks, bar-racks, war-port of Lorient, on the 5th of November of the present year, to join the army of the Loire. "Bretons! France calls! Answer with your ancient battle-cry, Sainte-Anne! Sainte-Anne! Sainte-Anne! ' The eyes of the world are on Armorica! To arms!" The girl's voice ceased; a dead silence si-lence reigned in the square. The men looked at one another stupidly ; a woman wom-an began to whimper. "The curse is on Paradise!" cried a hoarse voice. The drummer waB already drawing another paper from her ragged pocket, and again in the same clear, emotionless emotion-less voice, but slightly drawling her words, she read: "To the people of Paradise! The manager of the famous American traveling trav-eling circus, lately returned from a tour of the northern provinces, with camels, elephants, lions and a magnificent magnifi-cent company of artists, announces a stupendous exhibition to be held in Lorient at greatly reduced prices, thus enabling the intelligent and appreciative apprecia-tive people of Paradise to honor the Republican circus, recently known as the Imperial circus, with their benevolent benevo-lent and discerning patronage! Long live France! Long live Aie republic! Long live the circus!" A resounding roll of the drum ended end-ed the announcements; the girl slung the drum over her shoulder, turned to the right, and passed over the stone bridge, sabots clicking. The maids of Paradise were weeping now by the fountain; the men gathered gath-ered near, and their slow, hushed voices scarcely rose above the ripple of the stream where Robert the Lizard Liz-ard fished in silence. I walked across to the Quimperle road and met Jacqueline, dancing along with her drum. We stood in the middle of the high-road looking through the dust haze, she doubtless dreaming of the splendors to come, I very, very tired. Suddenly, straight out of the flaming gates of the sunset, the miracle was wrought. Breathless, she shrank back among the weeds, one hand pressed to her throbbing throat. Then she caught sight of something through the dust that filled heT with a delicious terror, and she cried out. For there, uptow-ering uptow-ering in the haze, came trudging a great, gray creature, a fearsome, swaying thing in crimson trappings, flapping huge ears. It shuffled past, swinging a dusty trunk; the sparkling horsemen cantered by, tin armor blazing blaz-ing in the fading glory; the chariots dragged after, and the closed dens of beasts rolled behind in single file, followed fol-lowed by the band-wagon, where heaven-inspired musicians played frantically fran-tically and a white-faced clown balanced bal-anced his hat on a stick and shrieked. So the circus passed into Paradise; and I turned and followed in the wake "Long Liv the Republicl Long Live the Circus!" of dust, stale odors, and clamorous discord, dis-cord, sick at heart of wandering over a world I had not found too kind. And at my heels stole Jacqueline. TO BE CONTINUED.) Would Be Worth Seeing. A young woman from the east was conversing with a Kentuckian about tobacco and tobacco raising. She was very pretty and a good conversationalist, conversation-alist, and the young man from Kentucky Ken-tucky was vastly interested in her un-till un-till fihe gave him a sudden shock by announcing: "J'ehould love to see a tobacco field; especially when it is just plugging out." National Food Magazine. |