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

alton was quite large element), a mixture
certainly picturesque enough for the use oi
themost gxzcting of romantic artists.
DAYS slipped by. Orton improved rap.
idlv. The old man, Felicie and the colored
youthwere very attentive and kind to him,
This celoned youth, Bobo by name, was 9
Quiet reserved Quadroon whose shrewdnesS
did not show in his rather langu;d face
He was of medium stature, slenderly though
compactly built, and by no means Ill
favored. The Offices performed by him were
those of trusted and intelligent house
servant. Lately he had been watching al
night beside Orton's bed. He usually came
in at about IL o'clock and remained until
after daylight had appeared.
One night Bohe had something to say tc
Orton, a message to deliver, and he scarcely
knew how to begin. orton became aware
of this through the fellows behavior, and
after some diplomacy got him started. The
fact is the artist was suspecting that posi-
bly the message was from Felicie, but in
this he was mistaken.
"You know the little ma 'zelle over al
Mo'sieu Garcin's, do you, Mo'sieu Orton?''
Bobo began looking sidewise at ortcn as he
spoke.
Lalle, you mean!
"Yes, mo'sieu.
Certainly, 1 do"
The Young ouadroon remained silent fol
while, still eyeing Orton out of the cor.
ners of his dark yellow eyes. Presently he
said:
swell, she wants to know when you are
coming back there.
"Oh, don't know, Bobo, perhaps never,
shall go away as soon as 1 get strong
enough; but when did you see Lalie, Bobo2'
said Orton in kindly tone of inquiry.
The slave GRAINED and shook his head
significantly. "You mustn't ask me that,
mo'sieu, il you please. Ny master does
not allow me to go there He hates them
all, you know"
'fBut they know that am here and safe,
do they, Bobo?"
Eyes, mo'sieu."
"And is Monsieur Garcin safe and well?"
eyes, o'sieu."
''Well, Bobo, if you ever see them tell
them that send my best regards, that
shall always remember them"
eyes, mo'sieu."
The slave sat with his ewes downcast, and
for awhile vas silent. Presently he looked
up with sharp, inquiring glance, and said;
"Mo'sieu would like to get away?"
"When am stronger I shall CO." Orton
answered, but he was not thinking especial
ly of what he was saying. His mind was
full of other things.
Bobo smiled knowingly and shook his
head as if to say that he very much doubted
whether the young man could do just as he
pleased about quitting Rochon place.
When Orton had recovered sufficiently to
pace his room with the aid of chair and to
sit in the window that overlooked the bay
or to lounge in the one that faced the woods,
Rochon liked to come up and spend some
time with him in conversation. The old
man, reserved in way, was yet quite free to
speak ofcertain parts of his wild, adventure
some life, though 0rton noted that time and
place were usually not given when any par
ticularly interesting incident was described.
He spoke very fully Of his niece, giving
Orton history OF her life, from which it
appeared that she was an orphan from in
fancy, her parents having been victims OF
some one of the dreadful massacres in the
West Indies.
s'She has had no one to look to but me, -
said he, 'fand God knows 1 am a bad guar
dian for girl like ner. She ought to be in
Paris or in London, among the people who
can best appreciate beauty and loveliness.
1t was the first time Orton had heard a
tender word fail from the old mans lips. A
gentle sentiment from a man like Rochon is
"A
force behind it, and the ponderous rough.
ness which acts as foil for it. make it SO
different IRON an ordinary expression oi
human sympathy, and give it such quality
as comes only of extraordinary elements OF
life Orton felt this, and grew strangely
attached to Rochon, studying his giantesque
traits and admiring his lion-like attitudes
and motions. One morning the old man had
come early to Orton's room, and was stand
ing at the window overlooking the woods
Su ldeDly he turned upon Orton and bluntlJ
demanded: "What do you suppose makes
that little niger wench of Garcin's skulk
around here? I've seen her every day for
a week past, lurking in the edge of the
woods.
''Lalie, do you mean?" Inquired Orton.
"Garcin's girl, Lal, yes," responded
Rochon. "the little pop-eyed wench has
some devilment in her head, think, and il
get hold of her I'll thrash her with a cow
whip till she'll be glad to go about her own
business" -' .~..
Bobo was standing BY with a stupid ex-
preston on his face, but Orton noticed a
malignant CLEAN in his half-closed eyes and
a curious twitching at the angles OF his
heavy Jaws.
Rochon soon after left the room.
SIS Lalie really hanging around here, as
the negro.
81 don't know, mo 'sieu, certainly" said
Bobo; but it was easy to see he was lying.
TELL her, Bobo, to go home, do you
hear?''
'Lal;e has no home now" replied the ne
gro with strange strain of pathetic sug-
gestion in his voice.
Orton started. For the first time a real
ization of the utter ruin of the Garcin home
swept into his mind. and with it the desola-
tion OF Lalie's life came in startling dis.
tinctness. Perhaps his imagination made
more of it than the facts warranted; but
there must have been great distress over on
Bayou Galere after the visitation of old
Rochon and his followers.
''No home, you say, Bobo? Lalie has nc
place to stay?"
"Oh, she would not go up to Honey
Island with her folks" said the slave dole
fully, as he gazed steadily at the floor and
lszily twirled his thumbs f'She stays with
Maume Robert the fortune-teller.
All this was very unsatisfactory to Orton.
1t distressed him, but he could think of no
way to relieve the situation. He leaned
upon the sill of the open window and gazed
down into the tender gloom of the moss.
hung forest where a chorus of birds shook
the tangled sprays with their songs. This
slender, but intense. touch of tragedy
brought out by Bobo's account of Lalie
Garcin had thrilled throughout Orton't
senses. He was IN a manner dazed by the
picture suggested. And at this moment, a:
he leaned out of the window and aimlessly
glanced from rift to rift in the trees, his eyes
met those of Lalie looking fxedly at him
Her features were pinched and eager, hel
hair somewhat disheveled; in hand she held
her gun.
CHAPTER VII.