New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1876-03-05

not been palpable Inventions, the pfetty,
womanish Mazaro from time to time
poured forth, in the ever unqualified hope
that the goddess might come down with
draft of nectar for him, it profteth not
to recount; but should fail 10 show
family feature of the Cafe des Exiles did
omit to say that these make-believe adj
ventures were heard with every mark of
respect and credence, while, on the other
hand, they were never attempted in the
presence of the Irishman. He would have
moved an eyebrow, or made some barely
audible sound, or dropped some SEEM
ingly innocent word, and the whole COM
pany, in spite of themselves, would have
smiled Wherefore it may be doubted
whether at any time the curly haired
young Cuban had that playful affection
for his Celtic comrade which habit of
giving little velvet taps to Galahad's cheek
made q show Of
Such was the Cafe des Exiles, such its
inmates, such its guests, when certain ap-
parently trivial events began to fall
around it like germs of blight upon corn,
and to bring about that end which cometh
to all things.
The little seed of jealousy dropped into
the heart of Manuel Mazaro we have
already taken into account. Galahad
Shaughnessy began to be specially active
in organizing society of Spanish Ameri-
cans tie design of which, as set forth in
its manuscript constitution, was to pro-
vide proper funeral honors to such Of their
membership as might be overtaken by
death; and, whenever it was practicable.
to send their ashes to their native land.
Next to Galahad in this movement was an
elegant old Mexican physician, DR.. -,
his name escapes me, whom the Cafe des
Exiles sometimes took upon her lap
that is to say door-step-but whose favo-
rite resort was the old Cafe des REFUGEES
in the Rue Royale (Royal street, as it was
beginning to be called. Manuel Mazaro
was made secretary.
It was for some reason thought judi
cious for the society to hold its meet
ings in various places, now here, now
there; but the most frequent rendez-
vous was the Cafe des Exlles; it was
very quiet; those Spanish Creoles,
however they may afterward cackle, like
to lay their plans noiselessly, like hen
in barn. There was very general con-
| fidence in this institution, kind of in
ward assurance that ''mother wouldn't
tell" though, after all, there could not be
any great secrets connected with a mere
burial society.
Before the hour of meeting the Cafe des
Exiles always sent away her children and
closed her door. Presently they would
commence returning, one by one, as
flock of wild fowl will do, that has been
startled up from its accustomed haunt.
Frequenters of the Cafe des Refugees also
would appear. A small gate in the close
garden fence let them into a room behind
the cafe proper, and by and by the apart
ment would be full of dark visaged men,
conversing in the low, courteous tone
common to their race. The shutters of
doors and windows we're closed and the
chinks stopped with cotton; those people
are so jealous of observation.
On certain night after one of these
meetings had dispersed in its peculiar
way, the members retiring two by two
at intervals, Manuel Mazaro and NJ.
DHemecourt were left alone, sitting
close together in the dimly lighted
room, the former speaking, the other.
with no pleasant countenance, attending.
It seemed to the young Cuban proper
precaution-he was made of precautions
to speak in English. His voice was bare
ly audible.
a. sayce to me, Manuel, she t-theeng
want-n to marry bore. Senior, you
shouth ave see him laugh"
NJ. D'Hemecou1t lifted up his head, and
laid his hand upon the young mans arm.
manuel Mazaro," he began, ''iv dad
w'ad you say is nod -"
The Cuban interrupted.
eff is mo- t-thrue you will keel Manuel
MaZaro "a r-r-right-a"
"No," said the tender old man, mo
bud hi am positeef dad de Madjor will
shood you
Mazaro nodded, and lifted one finger
for attention.
g. sayce to me, Manuel, you goin'
tell-a Senior D'Hemecourt fin "a you some
nigh an cut-a you heart ou'.' An sayce
to heem-a, 'boat-a if Senior D'Hemecourt
he fin i'm on frone Pauline
s'Silence " fercely cried the old man.
"My God I! 'Sieur Mazaro, neider you,
neider somebody helse sail h-use de mem
of me daughter. It is nod possib' dad
you sail spick him! I can not pearmid
thad."
While the old man was speaking these
vehement words, the Cuban was emphat-
ically nodding approval.
sCo-rect-a, c9-rect-a, senior, he replied.
''Senor, you r-r-right-a; escuse-a me,
Senior, escuse-, me. Senior D'Hemecourt,
Mayor Shaug' ness, when he talkin' wi
me he usin' hcre-a name the t-thime-a."
"My fren',' said NJ. D'Hemecourt,
rising and speaking with labored control,
Il muz tell you good nighd. You ave
sooprise me very CRED DEAL sail in
vestigade doze ting; an, Manuel Mazaro,
III am hole man; but will requez you,
iv dad wad you say is nod de true, my |
God! not to lever ritturn again ad de !
Cafe des Exiles."
Mazaro smil-d and nodded His host |
opened the door into the garden, and, as
the young man stepped out, noticed even
then how handsome was his face ard |
figure. The odor of the night jessamine |
filed the air with an almost insuppo1table |
sweetness. The Cuban paused moment, |
as if to speak, bat checked himself, lifted /
his girlish face and looked up to where |
the daggers OF the palmetto tree were |
crossed upon the face of the moon,
dropped his glance, touched his Panama,
and silently followed by the bare-headed |
old man, drew open the little garden gate,
looked cautiously out, said goodnight, |
and stepped into the street.
As NJ. D'HemecOurt returned to the |
door through which he had come, he ut
tered an ejaculation of establishment.
Pauline stood before him. She spoke
hurriedly in French.
s.Papa, papa, it is not true"
''No, my child" he responded, 81 am
sure it is not true: am sure it is all false;
but why do I find you out of bed SO late,
little bird? The night is nearly gone?
He laid his hand upon her cheek.