The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-12-20
KAD0UR AND KATEL.

Kadour- benz herifa. sergeant major OF
the Algerian sharpshooters, was believed
/ to be dying when he was carried into old
/ Rippert's sawmill on the Sauerbach. For
/ FIVE long weeks he lived as in a dream,
parched with fever ard racked with the
pain of his wound. Sometimes he thought
he was in the battle again, shouting and
bounding across the fax fields and hop
gardens Of Wissebourg; at other times
he fancied himself once more at home in
Algiers with his father, the kaid of Matt
matas
At last he opened his eyes and became
dimly conscious Of being in cool, clean
room, with white curtains at the win
dows, and outside green branches wav-
ing, and light clouds passing before the
sun. Near his bed sat a little sister Of
charity, watchful and quiet, wearing in
deed no silver cross, no rosary, no veil,
but, instead, two long braids of yellow
hair falling over black velvet bodice.
From time to time some one would call
"Katel, Katelr and the peasant girl
would go on tiptoe out OF the room, and
then the invalid would hear a clear young
voice which seemed to him as refreshing
as the sound of the brook that ran muir
muring under the windows Of the mill.
Kadour was Ill for a long time, but
the Ripperts took such good care Of him
that his wounds healed, and they con-
cealed him so cleverly that the Prussians
were not able to send MIN to die Of cold
in a casemate at Mayence. Soon he be-
gan to talk, showing his white teeth; then
he took few steps round the room, with
one sleeve hanging empty and great
gaping hole in the midst of the embroi-
derry, and his arm still bandaged and
helpless. Then he went every day into
the little garden, and Katel would bring
out little rug seated armchair for the
invalid, putting it down in the warmest
corner by the wall, where the grapes
ripened the earliest, and Kadour, who,
being kaid's sob, had studied in the
Arabian college at Algiers, would thank
her in French, which sounded little
barbarous, mingled as it was with bono
beZeff and naeach bono.
Without suspecting it the young Turk
was falling under spell. The easy gay
ETY. Of the French maiden, who lived as
free as bird, her face unveiled even in
the open air, and her window unbarred,
astonished while it fascinated him. 1t
was so very different from the walled
up life of his countryvonen, with their
white, lemon scented wells.
Katel, on her part, thought the
stranger a little too dark skinned; but
he had such frank face and he hated
the PrussianS so! One thing displeased
her terribly, and that was that over
there in Algeria a man might have sew
eral wives. She could not understand
that, and one day when Kadour, to tease
her, said in his foreign jargon, "Kadour
soon marry-have four wives-foUr"-
the girl exclaimed angrily, Pour wives?
Oh, the villain, the pagan!
The Turk burst out laughing as glee-
fully as a child; then, suddenly growing
serious and silent, he fixed his great
dark eyes upon her face. That was the
Kadour, completely cured, went home
to his father, and one can imagine the
festivities that We're held in his honor
in the land of the Matimatas. The reed
flutes and the little drums played ,heir
sweetest airs to welcome him, and when
the old kaid, seated in his doorway, saw
coming down the cactus walk the be-
loved son whom he had thought dead he
trembled as if with ague under his
white burnous. For a whole month
there was an uninterrupted series Of diffas
and fantasies, all the Raids and Agas OF
the neighborhood disputed for the honor
of entertaining Kadour- ben- Cherife, and
every evening in the Moorish cafes he
was entreated to describe the battles in
which he had fought.
But alas! all these fetes and honors
did not make him happy. In the midst
of the souvenirs OF his childhood, his
horses, his greyhounds, his arms and
all the splendors of his fathers mansion,
there was one thing wanting-the art
less, merry laugh of Katel. The little
perpetual prattling of the Arab women,
which had once made his heart beat
with pleasure, now fatigued and an
noyed him; he wculd not admire their
orange flower wreaths and wide trousers
of a rose color satin, but thought only
Of pair of long braids having no pearl
ornaments, Yet shining like golden
threads under the setting sun in little
Alsatian garden far away. And yet, if
Kadour would hut look about him,
he could see pair of beautiful black
eyes made languid with kohl watching
him from behind the grated windows of
an old Ags's house not far distant. Ka-
dour cared nothing for them; what he
longed for was Kasers quick glance
round the sick room TO see if anything
were wanting for his comfort; he sighed
for the blue eyes in which the light
played as brightly as in drops of clear
spring water.
Little by little, however, the tender
charm Of those blue eyes. mingled with
the memory Of his convslescence and
the soft tempered air of France, faded
from his mind At Last Kadour had for
COTTON Kstel, and throughout the valley
of the Chelit nothing was talked Of but
his apDrOachiDfY marriage with Har,ioa