The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1889-03-26

knees and on his head was a black french
cap set well back. In his hand he bore a
short-stemmed but enormous pipe, old
and malodorous. Just inside the door he
paused and stood for a moment chuckling
aloud, his eyes cleaning merrily and his
beard palpitating.
"Ho-ho!" he exclaimed in a deep,
resonant bass voice, "Ho-ho! my fine
cog de combat is coming to his appetite,
Ell? Well, well, my little lily, feed him,
feed him, for he's a game one, certainly"
He glanced from one to the other again
and again with a quizzical glare and shook
his big head slowly as one who is well
satisfied with what he sees before him.
"Diable-Dieu! but if he'd a cutlass
like mine I believe he'd have sliced me
into pieces at last. He's the hardest
fighter I ever met, certainly, yes, thevery
hardest. He put me to my very best"
Felicie had risen and was standing with
the bowl in one hand, the spoon in the
other, her cheeks losing somewhat Of
their color, but she did not speak.
"Ho-ho! my jolly young swash-
buckler, how do you do this morning,
Ell 2" he continued, addressing Orion and
roaring out his words with a cordial, al
most jolly information. Feeding yourself
up to fight me again, Ell? Don't know
that I care about any more of your play,
ha! ha ha! moi any more till these gashes
get WELL" and he indicated his head and
arms, "you cut me all over, from crown
to sole. Devil Of a slashing swordsman
are you, certainly!
He sat himself down in the chair from
which Felicie had risen, and spread out
his ponderous, iron-thewed limbs; the
seat creaked under his great weight.
"You're the very son of your father,
boy" he went on, "just like him all over,
a fighter that never gives in. 1t does me
good to lood at you, it's like being a boy
again and living over the old gay times in
the far East. I reckon that your father
never told you about our adventures to-
gether."
"I think I never heard my father speak
of you" said Orion.
"I Judge not" remarked the old man
with a peculiar chuckle, 81 used to have
another name in those days and | have
had several good ones since, ha! ha! hal"
He slapped his muscular thigh with his
hard, heavy hand and laughed uproar-
iously.
Felicie quietly left the room.
Chow are your slashed places getting
on?" Rochon inquired in a gentler man
ner.
Il seem to be doing finely in every
way, thank you," responded Orton," l
have but little pain now"
"Well, how the devil came you over
there with those niggers? You're not
the sort of man to be in with a lot of cat
tie like Garcin and his gang of niger cut
throats, ell ?" Rochon spoke bluntly but
without any evidence of insolence in
voice or manner.
Orion felt it best to explain frankly
that the accidents of an explorers wan
behring's had sent him to Garcin's and that
he knew nothing whatever of the mans
character or of his business.
"Captain Victor of the Zozo took me
there" he concluded.
"Victor, hobo! Victor, he'll not take
anybody else anywhere again." chuckled
Rochon, "He went down in the storm On
Ponchartrain the other day"
"Went DOWN.
Eyes, down with all on board; not a
soul escaped to tell the story. Ha! ha
ha! |"
This was i'll news to Orion, for he recol-
lected that Victor with the Zozo was to
come to take him back to New Orleans at
the end of a month. He remarked this
speaking to Rochon.
"Well, he'll never come back" said the
old man grimly, again slapping his thigh.
"The fish nave eaten the black %scoundrel
now. Ha! hal ha!
There was something in Rochon's per-
sonaity so outre, so savage and yet so
masterful, that Orion found himself look
ing at him with admiration in spite of all
that had happened. Surely here was a
man who might have been a king of all the
buccaneers, the lord of all the wild crews
that roamed the Spanish main. Never
had the artist seen such a perfect type of
the old-time outlaw hero, who from his
beard to to his boots was bristling, so to
speak, with unkempt virility and bullying
with muscular force. What a study that
form and face would make, Orion thought,
and he wondered if the old man would
object to being set upon paper or canvas.
Rochon remained for some time, talk
ing in a half-jolly desultory way, and at
last when be arose to 60 he said: well
my boy, l rather like you. Be patient
and eat all they give you and you'll soon
come round all right"
He put his pipe in his mouth and went
forth through the door fairly jarring the
house with his tread. The impression
left in Orton's mind was a strange mix
ture (of which a certain rather question
able admiration was quite a large element),
a mixture certainly picturesque enough
for the use of the most exacting Of roman
tic artists.
Days slipped by; Orion improved rap
idly. The old man, Felicie and the col
ored youth were very attentive and kind
to him. This colored youth, Bobo by
name, was a quiet, reserved qu~adroon
whose shrewdness did not show in his
rather languid face. He was of medium
stature, slenderly though compactly built,
and by no means i'll favored. The offices
performed by him were those of a trusted
and INTELLIGENT house servant TatoIu he