. . .-. v. - it, ... - t. f
THE RED s
By OV8TAVE AINARD
r T E A I L s
( CHAPTER XXI. (Continued.)
"Have you learned any Important news
ince our last Interview?"
"Only one thing, but I think It is of
the utmost gravity for you."
"Speak, my friend."
"What I have to tell you Is short and
gloomy, senores. The general, after a
secret conversation with his man of busi
ness, ordered me to carry a letter to the
Convent "of the Bernardines."
"To the convent?" Don Martial ex
claimed. "Silence," said Valentine. "Do you
know the contents of this letter?"
"Dona Anita gave It me to read. The
general informs the abbess that be Is
resolved to finish the matter ; that wheth
er bis ward be mad or not, he means to
marry her, and that at sunrise on the
day after to-morrow, a priest sent by
him will present himself at the convent
to arrange the ceremony."
"What is to be done?" the Tigrero ex
claimed sadly.
"Silence," Valentine repeated. "Is that
all, Oarnero?"
"No ; the general adds that be requests
the abbess to prepare the young lady
for this union, and that he will himself
call at the luureut lo-woirow, lu oiuor
to explain more fully his Inexorable
wishes."
"Very good, my friend, I thank you
for this precious information ; it Is of the
utmost Importance that the general should
be prevented from going to the convent
before three o'clock."
"Do not be uneasy, my dear Valentine ;
the general shall not go to the convent
before the hour you Indicate."
"I count on your promise, my friend;
and now good-by."
He offered him his hand, which the
capatas pressed forcibly.
"My friends," Valentine then said, "we
have now arrived at the moment for the
final struggle which we have so long
been preparing. We must not let our
selves be led away by hatred, but act like
judges, not as men who are avenging
themselves. Blood demands blood, It is
true, according to the law of the desert,
but remember, however culpable the man
whom we have condemned may be, bis
death would be an Indelible spot, a brand
of infamy which would sully our honor."
"But this monster," the Tigrero ex
claimed, "Is beyond the pale of human
ity." "He may re-enter it to repent"
"Are we priests then, to practice for
getfulness of insults?" Don Martial ask-
ed with a fiendish grin.
"No, my friend; there are men in the
grand and sublime acceptance of the
term; men who have often,, been faulty
themselves, and who, rendered better by
the life of struggling they have led, and
the grief which has frequently bowed
them beneath its iron yoke, inflict a
chastisement, but despise vengeance,
which they leave to weak and pusillani
mous minds. Who of you, my friends,
would dare to say that he has suffered
more than I? To him alone will I con
cede the right of Imposing his will on
me, and what he bids me do I will do."
"Forgive me, my friend," the Tigrero
answered, "you are ever good, ever great
Heaven, In imposing on you a heavy
task, endowed you at the same time with
an energetic soul, and a heart which
Seems to expand In your bosom under the
blast of adversity, instead of withering."
"Through my own sufferings, I can
understand what yours are. I, too, often
feel my heart bound with wrath and in
dignation; for, believe me, my friend, I
have a constant struggle to wage against
myself, not to let myself be led away
to make a vengeance of what must only
be a punishment But enough on this
head ; time presses, and we must arrange
our plans so as not to be foiled by our
enemies. I went to-day to the Palace,
where I had a secret conversation with
the President of the Republic, whom, as
you are aware, I have known for many
years, and who honors me with a friend
ship of which I am far from believing
myself worthy. At the end of our inter
view he handed me a paper, a species of
blank signature, by the aid of which I
can do what I think advisable for the
success of our plans."
"Did you obtain such a paper?"
"I have it in my pocket Now, listen
to me. You will go at sunrise to-morrow
to the house of Don Antonio Rallier; he
will be Informed of your coming, and you
will follow his instructions."
"And you?"
"Do not be anxious about my move
ments, good friend, and only think of
your own business, for, I repeat the de
cisive moment Is approaching. The day
after to-morrow begins the feast of the
anniversary of Mexican independence;
that is to say, on that day we shall do
battle with our enemy, and meet him
face to face; and the combat will be a
rude one, for this man has a will of
iron, and a terrible energy. We shall be
able to conquer him, but not to subdue
him, and if we do not take care he will
slip through our hands like a serpent;
hence our personal affairs must be fin
ished to-morrow. Though apparently ab
sent, I shall be really near you, that is
to say, I will help you with all my pow
er. I trust that you have heard and
understood me, my friend?"
"Yes, Don Valentine."
"And you will act as I recommend?"
"I promise It"
"Reflect that yon are perhaps risking
the Use of eur future happiness."
"I will not forget your recommenda
tion, I swear to you; I am risking too
great a stake in this game, which must
decide my future life, to let myself be
induced to commit any act of violence."
"Good ; I am happy to hear you speak
thus; but have confidence, my friend, I
feel certain that we shall succeed."
"May heaven hear you!"
"It always hears those who appeal to
it with a pure heart and a lively faith.
Hope, I tell you; and now, my dear Don
Martial, permit me to say a few words
to our worthy friend, Belhumeur."
"I will withdraw."
"What for? have I any secrets from
you? You can hear what I am going to
say to him."
"You have nothing to say to me, Val
entine," the hunter said, with a shake of
his head, "nothing 'but what I know al
ready; I have no other interest in what
is about to take place beyond the deep
friendship that attached me to the count
and now to you. You think that the
recollection I have preserved of our un
happy friend cannot be sufficiently en
graven on my heart for me to risk my
life at your side in avenging him; but
you are mistaken, Valentine, that's all.
I will uul auauuuu uu lu tin) hotir 0
combat; I will remain at your side even
should you order me to leave you, I tell
you that I swear, and have taken an
oath to that effect, to make a shield of
my body to protect you, if it should be
necessary. Now, give me your hand, and
suppose we say no more about it?"
Valentine remained silent for a mo
ment; a scalding tear ran down his
bronzed cheek, and he took the hand of
the honest, simple-minded Canadian, and
merely uttered the words :
"Thank you, I accept"
They then rose and returned to their
carriage, after Valentine had warned his
faithful bodyguard, Curumllla, by a sig
nal that he could leave his hiding place,
as the interview was over. A quarter of
an hour later the three gentlemen reach
ed the house in the Calle de Tacuba,
where Curumllla was already awaiting
them.
CHAPTER XXII.
On the morrow Mexico awoke to a
holiday ; nothing extraordinary, in a coun
try where the year Is a perpetual holi
day. This time the affair was serious,
for the Inhabitants wished . to celebrate
in a proper manner the anniversary of
the Proclamation of Independence, of
which the day to which we aliude was the
eve.
At sunrise a formidable bando Issued
from the government palace, and went
through all the streets and squares of
the city, announcing with a mighty clam
our of bugles and drums, that on the
next day there would be a bull fight with
"Jamaica" and "Monte Parnasso" for
the leperos, high mass celebrated in all
the churches, theaters thrown open gratis,
a review of the garrison, and of all the
troops quartered sixty miles round, and
fireworks and Illuminations at night with
open-air balls and feria.
Don Martial, in order to throw out
the spies doubtless posted . round Valen
tine's house, had left his friend in the
middle of the night, and gone to his lodg
ings, and a few minutes before day pro
ceeded to the house of M. Rallier.
"You are welcome," the Frenchman
said cordially, on perceiving Don Mar
tial ; "I was busy with our affair. My
brother Edward Is just off to bur quin
ta, whither my mother and my brother
Auguste proceeded two days ago, so that
we might find all in order on our ar
rival." Although the Tigrero did not entirely
understand what the banker said to him,
he considered it unnecessary to show it,
and hence bowed without answering.
"All is settled, then," M. Ralier con
tinued, addressing his . brother ; "get
everything ready, for we shall probably
arrive before mid-day that is to say,
in time for lunch."
"Your country house is not far from
the city?" the Tigrero asked, for the
sake of saying something.
"Hardly five miles ; It Is at St. Angel ;
but in an excellent position for defense,
In event of attack. You are aware that
St Angel is built on the side of an ex
tinct volcano, and surrounded by lava and
spongy scoria, which renders an ap
proach very difficult"
"I must confess my Ignorance of the
fact"
"In a country like this, where the
government is bound to think of Its own
defense before troubling itself about In
dividuals, it Is well to take one's pre
caution, and be always perfectly 'on
guard. And now be off. mv dear Hriurnni
your weapons are all right, and two res
olute peons win accompany you; besides
the sun is now rising, and you will have
a pleasant ride: so good-by till vi mAt
again."
During this conversation Hi
had put the horses in a close carriage.
-uet in," said Al. Kallier.
"Whatl" Don Martial i-onlli '
we going to drive?"
"Do vou think I wnnM
go to the convent on horseback?"
"iiut this carriage will betray you."
"I admit it: but no on viu iiu
whom it contains when the shutters are
drawn up, which I shall be careful to
do before leaving the house. Come, get
in."
The Tlsrero nlaeed hlmaalf trm t.
Frenchman's side: the latter Dulled no j
the shutters, sad started at a gallop In
a direction diametrically opposed to that
which it should have followed, in order
to reach the convent
"Where are we going?" the Tigrero
asked presently. .
"To the Convent of the Bernardines."
"I fancy we are not going the right
road."
"That is possible, but at any rate, It
is the safest."
"I humbly confess that I cannot under
stand It at ail."
M. Rallier began laughing.
"My good fellow," he replied, "you will
understand at the right time, bo be easy.
You need only know that in acting as I
am now doing I am carrying out to the
letter the Instructions of Valentine, my
friend and yours."
"I have no repugnance to obey you,
Senor Don Antonio," the Tigrero an
swered. "The confidence our common
friend places in you is a sure guarantee
to me of your intentions. Hence dispose
of me as you think proper, without fear
ing the slightest objection on my part."
"That is the way to talk," the banker
said, with a laugh. "Now, to begin, my
dear senor, you will do me the pleasure
of changing your dress, for the one you
wear Is slightly too worldly for the place
to which we are going."
"Change my dress?' the Tigrero ex
claimed. "You ought to have told me so
at your house."
"Unnecessary, my dear sir. I have all
you require here."
, "Here?"
"Well, you shall see," he said, as he
took from one of the coach pockets a
Franciscan's gown, while from the other
he drew a pair of sandals and a cord.
"Have you not worn this dress before?"
"I have."
"Wc", you tr r,'n? T" ' on
again, and for the following reasons :
At the convent people believe (or pretend
to believe, which comes to the same
thing) that you are a Franciscan monk.
For the sake, then, of the persons who
are not in the secret it is necessary that
I should be accompanied by a monk, and
more, that they may be able, if required,
to take their oaths to the fact."
"I obey you. But will not your coach
man be surprised at seeing a Franciscan
emerge from the carriage into which he
showed a cabellero?"
"My coachman? Pardon me, but I do
not think you looked at him."
"Indeed I did not. All these Indians
are alike and equally hideous."
"That is true; however, look at him."
Don Martial bent forward and slightly
lowered the shutter.
"Curumllla !" he cried, in amazement
as he drew back. "lie, and bo well dis
guised?" "Do you now believe that he will be
surprised?"
"I was wrong."
"No, bupt you did not take the trouble
to reflect" ,
"Well, I will put on the gown, since I
must Still with your permission I will
keep m yweapons under it."
"Caspital My permission? On the
contrary, I order you to do so. But
what are they?"
"You shall see. A machete, a knife,
and a pair of pistols."
"That is first rate. If necessary, I
shall be able to find you a rifle."
While talking thus, the Tigrero had
changed his dress.
"There," the Frenchman continued,
"you are a perfect monk."
"No; I want something more, some
thing which is even indispensable."
"What's that?"
"The hat"
"That's true."
"That part of my costume I hardly
know how we shall obtain."
"Man of little faith!" the Frenchman
said with a smile, "see, and be con
founded." While speaking thus he raised the
front cushion, opened the box It covered
and pulled out the hat of a monk of St
Francis, which he gave the Tigrero.
"And now do you want anything else?"
"Indeed, no. Why, your carriage is a
perfect locomotive shop."
The Frenchman opened the door, for
the carriage had stopped in front of the
Convent of the Bernardines. Two or
three ill-looking fellows were prowling
about; and, in spite of their affected in
difference, It was easy to recognize them
for spies. The Frenchman and his com
panion were not deceived. They got out
with an Indifference as well assumed as
that of the spies, and approached the
door slowly, which opened at their first
knock, and closed again behind them with
a speed that proved the slight confidence
the sister porter placed In the Individuals
left outside.
'.'What do you desire, senores?" she
asked, politely, after curtesying to the
newcomers with a smile of recognition.
"My dear sister," the Frenchman an
swered, "be good enough to inform the
holy mother abbess of our visit and ask
her to favor us with an interview for a
few moments.
"It is still very early, brother," the
nun answered, "and I do not know if
holy mother can receive you at this mo
ment." "Merely mention my name to her, sis
ter, and I feel convinced that Bhe will
make no difficulty about receiving us."
"I doubt It brother, for, as I said be
fore, it is very early. Still, I am willing
to tell her, in order to prove to you my
readiness to serve you."
"I feel deeply grateful to you for the
kindness, sister."
v (To be continued.)
Convenient.
"So you have three pairs of glasses,
professor?"
"Yes. One pair to read with, an
other for nearsightedness and a third
pair to look for the other two with."
Fllegende Blnetter.
The number of divorcee la Increasing
rnpldly la England,
WHAT 13 A "LADY.
runny Definition by English School
Children.
Some elementary school children
were asked to write down what they
understood by a lady. Some of the
answers deserve a wider publicity than
that of the magazine of the Graystoke
(L. C. C.) Training College, England,
In which they were recently published.
The following Is a selection:
Ada (aged 7). A lady marls a man
and she goes In a caring or she goes In
a motor. Sometimes she Is a rich lady,
sometimes she goes to a ball, and she
has glasses when she caul see, and
when her father dies she la a widow.
John (aged 8). A lady Is a pres
(person) And a Cookmaed And a lady
does the wrek (work) And a lady dos
the doorstep And Ciena the handle of
the dore And the nokre And the
stevos (stoves) And t'ae tadools And
bred.
Bertie (aged 7). A lady has got a
love haves (house) and have got some
serves and lovely frames and a riug
and a lovely long hair and a pony trap.
Edle (aged 8). A lady 1ms a very
nice house and she hns nice things In
It and when she Is mnrrled she has
very nice wrings and then she mite
have a nice husband and sometimes he
treats her to nice things and then they
be kind to each other.
Lizzie (aged 7). A lndy Is some
thing like n mnn. But she's got long
hair and she's got a different face and
different clothes and she's got a lot of
work to do.
Ernest (aged 7). A lndy Is a mothor
oo as a lot of children and she thest
(tries to get rid of her children.
Harry (aged 7). A lndy la a maid
and sometimes a cook that cooks the
dinner, and a lady as a Pklrt, and when
a lady Isnt married she Is called a
widow a lady hns long hair.
Dolly (aged 7). A lady Is a kind
Wooman. A lady Is a Ouvuals. A lady
Is a Ruler. A lady Is a kind and gentle
wooman to us and gives us clothes.
Jack (aged 7). A lady Is a nice
woman because she don't have torn
clothes, and she hns a woch with her
and she has a chane on the woch.
Ned (aged 7). A lady Is like a Mis
tress and like a sister and she prhers
(prenches) to people and tchhs
(tenches) about God.
Charles (aged 6). A lndy Is dlver
ent from a man because a lady hns
dlfrent clothes from a mnn and a lady
hns Different eyes from a man nnd a
lady has Different body from a man
and a lndy has Different shoes from a
mnn.
Jack (aged 6). A lndy has A dress
and A mon hasn't, and A man has A
top hat and A lady hasn't
BLACK GIRL A NOVELTY THERE.
Why One Family Will Not Take
Colored Maid to France Again.
"My wife and I went to France not
long ago to see her parents, who live
in that country, and we took along my
wife's maid, an extremely efficient col
ored girl, who has been in the family
a long time," said J. T. Lenert, of
New Orleans at the New Wlllard, ac
cording to the Washington Herald.
"This girl, besides being an excellent
creature, Is about the complexion of
the ace of spodes, the deepest of blncka,
for she Is the direct tleseendnnt of
slnves of unndulterated African blood.
Next yenr we may go ngnln to France,
but we will leave the maid nt home.
"Whnt for? Well, that colored girl
created a sensation thnt we never
dreamed of. It seems thnt In mnny
pnrts of Frnnce no colored person hnd
ever before been seen nnd this one was
a novelty thnt whenever she appeared
crowds gathered to look at the unac
customed sight This was cnrrled to
such an extent ns to prove very em
barrassing to us nnd It also worried
the mnld grentlv, for she wns not used
to being stared at by great throngs of
people. One day she went to church,
but her presence came very near break
ing up divine services and the good
father, seeing what wns the mntter,
dismissed the congregation In short or
der. In London, where blnck folks
are not unfamiliar sights, her appear
ance created no such stir anrt, while
the girl would willingly go back there,
no money could Induce her to revlBlt
France."
Well-Meaning- Bat
"So you don't like Mr. Bllggins?"
"No," answered Miss Cayenne. "He
Is very clumsy."
"But he means well."
"Yes. He Is one of those people who
think It doesn't mntter how much dam
age they do If they Bay 'Excuse me.' "
Washington Star.
Not Quite.
"Have you any difficulty In getting
the proper diet for the Invalid?"
"No, Indeed; the doctor has ordered
us to give some of that prepared des
ecrated food" Baltimore American.
You are more apt to hear any wom
an rave over a doctor thnn the woman
who has to earn the money to pny her
bills.
If a woman has her children with
her, she never heart half what 70a
it to her.
THE DESERTED SANDWICH.
it Had the Fatal Gift of Beanty aa
It Waa Coveted hy Many.
"Don't leave your sandwich up tbera
on the advertising boards," said Tom
my's mother; "the train will come
along soon and you will forget It"
But Tommy did not heed the warn
ing, the train came and went away
with Tommy and his mother and the
others, bound for Coney Island, and
the sandwich remained, says the New
York Sun.
It was a remarkably neat package
for a sandwich. Lying there on top of
the advertising boards It looked as if
it had been done up by a jeweler, so
rectangular was It and so precisely
were the ends of the wrapper folded
over.
An elderly man stood near by read
ing his newspaper. He had heard the
talk about the sandwich and he noted
that the event had turned out as Tom
my's mother had predicted.
A young girl came up the stairs and
walked along the platform. She saw
the neat package and looked from It
toward the man. He drew a step near
er to It, glanced at It as If to assure
himself that it was still there, and re
sinned reading his paper.
Several passengers alighted from the
next train, nnd as they passed the
sandwich most of them saw it and the
man and tried to decide whether It bo
longed to him. One young fellow stroll
ed back, after going as fur as the door
of the waiting room, and walked slowly
up and down the platform.
The elderly cian stepped to the cda
of the platform and looked along the
track, as If to see whether the train
was coming. Just as he turned to take
his former position he saw the young
man lingering close to the sandwich.
He cleared his throat with a loud
"Ahem 1" and rested his arm on the ad
vertising boards a few feet away from
the package. The young man took the
next train that came along.
A large woman rigged out In clothes
that she evidently thought were just
the thing hurried up the stairs and was
rushing toward the train that had just
come in. Her eye caught the package,
with its jewelry store appearance, and
she did not enter the train.
She looked up and down the track
and glanced toward the sandwich, and
from It toward the man. He folded
his paper, put his reudlng glasses In
his pocket and again stepped to the edge
of the platform and looked along the
rails.
The woman eyed him and the pack
age alternately. The roar of a train
wus beard. As It slowed down the
man, all unmindful of the pnekage, hur
ried toward one of the car gates. The
man stood on the car platform as the
train moved out
By leaning outward as the train
rushed away he could wntch the pack
age long enough to see the large wom
an grab it from the top of the sign
boards, thrust It under her summer
wrap and hurry down the platform
stairs faster than she came up. Quito
naturally he smiled.
A Wardrobe in a Hat.
Grandfather De Voe is an artist who
appreciates fine millinery. His young
married daughter, however, was prac
tising domestic economy, when a hat,
a beautiful creation in real lace, ar
rived for little Ellse from her devoted
grandparent, whose eye had sur
rendered to this bit of baby apparel
the moment he saw it In a department
store.
"That hat is too extravagant for this
family," remarked the young mother.
"I'll take it back and see what I can
do."
A few days later the grandfather
called to see the baby In the new hat
"Do let me see how she looks In It,"
he said. "And how did you like It?"
"Arery much, father, thank you. They
gnve me two hats, two dresses, a
sweater, and thirty-nine cents In
change for It"
Good-Dye, Euclid.
Within the last few years a revolu
tion has been accomplished at Oxford
which ought really to affect the mind
of the nation more thnn the difference
between Lord Curzon nnd Lord Rose
bery. A text-book has been dlscnrded
which wns already venerable for Its an
tiquity at the beginning of the Chris
tian era. Needless to say, we are re
ferring to Euclid's "Elements." For
whnt other text-book ever hnd Buch a
run as thnt? It hns been accepted ever
since its publication, which was In the
reign of the first Ptolemy (B. C. 823
285). No writer has ever become so
Identified with a science as Euclid with
geometry. The nearest approaches are
to be found In the relation of Aristotle
to logic and of Adam Smith to politi
cal economy. London Spectator.
Not Like a Woman.
"nave you Interviewed that female
criminal?"
"I have tried to."
"Tried to?"
"Yes, but she refuses to talk."
"Refuses to talkl Head your article
'Man In Disguise,' and make It three
column! on the first pago." Houston,
Post
i .