Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-03-24

."What do you find 50 attractive down
there in the trees?" she added, as he turned
to answer her greeting.
If Felicie Rochon had been beautiful
heretofore in Orton's eyes, she was lovely in
her queen-like loftiness and sweetness. She
came and sat down on the window sill beside
him. a fine glow in her cheeks and in her
eyes the light of superb health and perfect
happiness, albeit certain uneasiness was
stirring in her heart
II saw nothing attractive, mademoiselle,
but something that has touched me deeply"
"And what was it?" she asked.
sit was little Lalie Garcin," he said, very
gravely, almost sadly. "What will become
of her, poor little girlp'
"Oh, but these negroes can get along al
most any way" replied Felicie indifferently
enough, but without any of the heartless-
ness the words might seem to i'm ply.
''The Garcins had such q beautiful home
over there on the Bayou Galere," he insist
ed; sit must be terrible to them to lose it
and In such a way.
"a delightful home, monsieur" she re-
peated, "the Garcins?"
He saw by her looks and BY the tone in
which she spoke that she knew nothing of
the real facts connected with the tragedy at
the bayou-that she was quite ignorant
of the strange barbaric luxury with
which Garcin and his family had been
surrounded. Orton felt at once that he must
not enlIghten her too much.
"Oh, well,'' he remarked, "they had
many comforts usually denied to people like
them"
She changed the subject and began to ask
him questions about New York and the life
of people in great cities. She had the
hunger for world knowledge which attacks
all healthy-minded young persons reared in
isolation with access to books full of romance
and poetry. He had already disclosed his
own life-history to her, but she could not
tire of hearing about society and manners
and customs of the people with whom he
had been reared. He told her his expert
erce as an art student in Paris and Rome,
OF mis- tramps in Switzerland and his wander
ings in England and Scotland. 1t was
charming to watch the play of color in her
face and to hear the quick come and 60 of
her breath as she followed his words with
the eager, unreserved interest of a child.
What he said was all fairy story to her in
the wonder of it, and yet she felt that he
was unfolding real life to her.
"And very soon you will be going back
to that delightful world" she said, pres
6uIlN, Will d 1OuS, hOh L
wish She stopped short, and a rosy
blush flashed into her cheeks.
Some influence, like the perfume of rare
flowers, stole over Orton. He felt it creep
into every fiber of his heart, exalting him to
intoxication. He looked into her deep sweet
eyes, now softened almost to tears, and saw
the innocence and purity of her soul reflected
there. His hand was trembling when he
laid it upon hers.
''Felicie," he said, in q voice heavy with
the moments rapture, 'if could tell you
how love you-may tell you?"
She sprang up, flushed more, then turned
white. He held her hand. 'I will tell
you, for must, cannot help it. 1 want
you to be my wife,"
Bobo, who had been in the room moment
before, had slipped out, as some unusual
sounds, unnoticed by Orton and Mile.
Rochon, came from some quarter near the
house. A gunshot had rung out keen and
clear, followed pretty soon by some con-
fused noises. The quick ear of the negro
had caught certain significant accents of
the sounds and he had fed like a shadow
down the stairs and out into the edge of the
forest on the west side of the house.
Orion would have scarcely heard the
bursting of thunderstorm overhead, for he
stood up all forgetlul that he ever had felt
wound, holding close-clasped in his arms
the Lily of Rochon.
In those days, much more than now, there
was romance in loyemaking, and the mo-
ment of all moments in life was that when
''Spirits rushed together at the touching of
the lips" Love at first sight and marriage
without long fashionable DELAYS were the
sweets of youthful experience. 1t was fit
ting, it was beautiful, and it was the Just
elimination of life for those strong and
imaginative young people that love came in
and crowned them at the moment when one
was about to need SO much the protection of
the other.
While the old, old drama of love was thus
being enacted within the stately Rochon
house, the tragedy of sudden death had dis
closed itself just beyond the walls at the
edge of the wood.
Gaspard Roehon, with heavy cow-whip
in his hand, had gone in search of Lalie
Garcin. He could not brook the thought
that a negro should dare to play the spy
upon his estate, much less a Garcin negro.
"The sneaking little wench!'' he ex-
claimed with a scowl, which on his faee
was peculiarly sinister, "I'll teach her how
to be peeping in at my windows"
He had seen her down there as he CHANGED
to look out of Orton's easement, and some
thing in tine respectful friendliness of Or
toms tone in speaking of her had exasper-
ated the old man nightly.
Lalie in fact had no evil motive in linger-
ing around Rochon place. The desire to see
Orton, of whose convalescence she had heard
through Bobo, was her only impulse in the
matter. 1t was rarely indeed that one of
her race thought of vengeance upon a white
who had done wrong, no matter how great;
but if the virus of revenge once set itself in
h slz4z IL
death. The girl would have fed when Ro-
chon approached her had she seen him a
little sooner; but she was watching the win
dow in which Orton and FelIcie Rochon
were visible; and she had neither eyes nor
ears for anything else. The blood was all
gone from her face, leaving it strange ashy
brown, her eyes were burning, her lips
purple and compressed. She was as rigid
and almost as lost to her immediate sur
roundings as if she had been statue. Re-
cent experiences with the bitter deprivations
attending them had left her without those
little adornments and graces which had done
so much for her half-sayage beauty, and now
she looked distraught almost as she gazed
6xedly up at the open window, her hair dis
heveied, her cheeks drawn, her brows fur
rowed with the strain of her intense feel
ing.
"Ho, here! you little black wepchi What
are you doing here?" roared old Rochen, as
he rushed forward and brought down his
whip on the girls shoulders with keen
swish and loud thwack. Cup with you
and be gone from here or I'll thrash you to
death in a minuteI' He struck again.
That was the last time that Gaspard Ro-
chon's whip ever fell upon a negro. Lalie
leaped to her feet and sprang away. As she
did so she faced about and confronted her
assailant. The old man saw the muzzle of
her leveled gun and jumped forward to
of fire and smoke and the ringing report
came first He was shot fhrnnrh tha heart