The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1889-03-17
CHAPTER VI.
A PRISONER OF ROCHON.


1t will be well for the reader, who would
like to realize in the best degree the events
sketched in the foregoing chapters, to re-
member that it is not of to-day that we are
writing, for, although the woods are still
wild and of luxuriant growth around Bay
st. Louis, and although comparatively
slight changes have come over the physical
features of the dreamy landscape there
about, there has been a great betterment,
of course, even among the most degraded of
the population. In fact, nowhere in the
world will you find to-day a more refined,
more hospitable or more lOvable
people than those of the Bay ST. Louis
region, once the home of the buccaneers,
pirates, smugglers and wreckers. We
move rapidly in America. 1t is but lapse
of seventy-fve or eighty years since old
Rochon was king of the Bay coast. Now
the beautiful bluffs overlooking the gray
green water are the sites of ample and lux
urious cottages. the summer homes of rich
people from New Orleans, or the winter
residences of Northern folk who come from
Chicago, st. Louis and Cincinnati to avoid
the bitter weather of those cold cities, and
to enjoy the balmy Caribbean breeZes and
the never-ending procession of flowers. The
whole gulf coast. from Mobile to the Rigo-
let's, is indeed another Riviera, SO
far as climate is concerned, region
basking in the most grateful sun
shine and perfumes, blown over by
salt gulf winds, and by resinous winds
from the far-reaching pine woods. high,
dry, salubrious, very Eden for the tired
and the sick IN winter, and luxurious
bathing place and resting place for city
weary people In summer. A broad, beauti-
full road, paved with shells as white as
snow, runs for dozen miles along the airy
bluffs between broad armed oaks and cedars
on one hand, and hedges of oleander and
Cherokee roses on the other. Eastward,
some ten miles distant, you see Ship Island.
famous in the military history of the coast,
while far southwark lies the curious cres-
cent of the Chandeliers. 1t is all very
sweet, and quiet, and peaceful now; but at
the time of which we write 1T was as wild
nook as might be found IN that widest
part of our country.
orion opened his eyes, as if from heavy,
bewildering sleep, and, looking languidly
around saw some curious pictures on the
walls of the room in the middle of which,
on bed whose heavy mahogany posts were
hung with tilmy curtains he lay weak and
helpless. 1t was night. and two or three
myrtle wax candles filled the air with
peculiar keen fine fragrance and with a
soft fiickering, yellowish light. Near the
bed negro boy was doing in chair. A
bit of almost purple sky, studded with far
ing stars, was visible through broad,
many-mulliOned window. The deep boom
rustic of long Spanish moss and satin-like
magnolia leaves. A hooking bird in tree
beside another window was laZ-
lily piping dreamy ,nocturne. Or
ton was aware that his head was
bound up and his limbs and body
bandaged. He was stiff and numb, with q
sinking sensation in his breast. He could
not think clearly; the mere effort exhausted
him and he slept. The last thing his clos
ing eyes saw was small, shapely glove
lying on table beside vial and spoon.
From some opening barely perceptible
current of cool and soothing air was creep
ing over him. In a corner of the room a
tall old clock was ticking with loud-meas-
ured strokes. When he again opened his
eyes it was Woodworking of a fine clear day,
with good sailing breeze pouring around
the house and rafting the windows and
the first object that met his eyes
es the Roc5os fasSTs 6aar OF his
bed. Her back was turned to him.
and she was arranging a large vase of
flowers on the table her small taper hands
moving gracefully and flashing the dia-
monds and rubies of some exquisite rings.
She wore simple pale gray morning dress
(of some costly materially touched with dull
red here and there. Her abundant yellow
ish brown hair was fluffy with half ringlets
in front and done into a large knot low
upon her neck, behind where shOne tall
ieweled comb of gold. He could see the
merest sketch of her side face. with its
delicate complexion and soft curves, Just
the hint of "A nearly perfect Greek profile,
with forehead trifie high and "A chin
possibly little too heavy, but beautiful
and magnetically tender and sweet in every
line.
Orion felt no pain now; a sense of extreme
weakness and lassitude, however, forbade
any effort to move or to speak. He lay
quite still, content to gaze with half-open
| eyes upon the fair vision before him; nor
| did he speculate upon the chances that had
| brought him here. That he was in room
| of the Rochon mansion he could have no
doubt. Slowly enough recollection of the
dreadful combat at Garcin's came into his
mind, and then he realized that he was old
Rochon's captive. His first thought was
of his sketches and the portrait of Lalie
| Garcin, then he remembered how he had
| carried them out into the garden before the
| fire began. While this was fitting through
| his brain he was watching Mile. RochOn
| arrange the flowers. Presently, by a con-
siderable effort, he said. in half whisper:
''Mademoiselle Rochon.n
| She turned quickly and looked at him
| with a bright, startled inquiring smile on
her face. She did not appear SO tall when
| she stood thus, and indeed she really was
| but little above medium height, though