The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1890-04-18
THE RED FLAG.
NJ. q.
Author OF lady Audley's Secret"
etc. etc. etc.
CHAPTER I.

tiers from a fountain hidden in the foliage;
and across the dim shadowy night the far
Ing lights and gaudy colors Of a painted and
gildcd temple, in which the band is playing
one of Strauss's tendercst waltzes.
The melodious strain is drawing to its
Tho players attack the coda with
crash and hurry, the pace intensifying as
tF'cy near the end. All the walters have
fallen out of the ranks, except one couple,
and those two waltz as If it were impossible
TO tire-as if they were the very spirit OF
dance and melody, creatures of fire and air,
incarnate.
The girls golden head r%eclines against
her partners shoulder, but not with an air
of WEAKNESS; the attitude expresses only
the graceful gliding step, the har-
monlous flowing movements, are as natural
as the fall Of waters or the waving of forest
boughs. Tho rosy lips are slightly parted,
the sweeteycs look starwards with a dreamy
gaze. There is far more of spirit than of
gross carthliness in the slim willowy form,
the fair and radiant face, which the stars
and the lamps shine upon alternately, rs
those revolving figures circle-now in tho
glare of the orchestra, and then under those
solemn worlds of light which are soon to
look upon stranger, sadder, darker, crueller
sights than this Sunday evening dance at
the Closerie DIES Lilas.
There are some who think it Is a wicked
thing to dance N a Sunday evening, even
after one has worshipped at ones parish
church faithfully and reverently on Sunday
morning; some there are who think it is
wicked to dance at all; and there are others
who worship in dancing, and are moved to
wild leapings and WRITINGS by the spirit Of
piety; others, again, who are dev~il-dancers,
and worship the principal of evil in their
demoniac gyrations. But assuredly, of all
who ever danced upon this earth, none ever
danced OH the edge of n more terrible yolca-
no than that which trembled and %throbbcd
under the feet of these light-hearted revel-
lers to-night-happy, unforcseeing, rejoIc-
ing in the balmy breath of summer, the STAR
lit sky, the warmth ard the flowers, with no
thought that this fair Paris, whitley beauti-
full in the sheen of starlight and moonlight,
was like q phantasmal or fairy city-a city
of palaces which were soon to sink in dust
and ashes. beauty that was to be changed
for burnt g, while joy and love fled Shrek
ing from a carnival ofblood ard fire.
Even tonight there were bystanders in
the lamp-lit garden who shook their heads
solemnly as they talked of the probability
of war with Prussi-. The battle of Sadowa
had been the beginning of evil. France had
played into the hands of her most danger
Gus rival, and had been swindlcd out of the
prise of her neutrality. To have allowed
Austria to be crushed by Bismarck was
worse than a crime, 1t was a blunder. And
now all the signs and tokens of the time
pointed to the likelihood of war. The day
had come when the overweening ambition
of the house of Brandeuburg must be check
ed, and in the opinion of the ~Bonapartists
the onus to fight was upon France. Opinion
among the people was divided; and there
were many who were friends of peace. A
| campaign would be triumph for French
arms, Of course; but such triumphs, how
evet certain, are never won without loss.
| For France as a people there must needs be
| profit and fame; but for individua.s-well,
even In q succession of victories some
French blood must be shed, some French
corpses must lie scattered on distant battle
| %felds-there must be cypress rs well as
laurel.
Yet the idea of impending war was not
unpleasant. 1t electrif d the intellectual
atmosphere, set the hearts of men and wo-
men throbbing with new hopes, new fears.
To elderly people it seemed only the other
day that the army was coming home in
triumph after the Italian War, and France
was browning the liberators of a sister land
but to the young people that Italian CAM
paign seemed to have happened a long while
ago. 1t was time that France should arise
in her might and strike q great blow.
So the middle-aged folks, mere spectators
of the evenings amusement, put their heads
together and discussed the political situa-
tion-some arguing from one point OF view,
some from another; aud those two walters
eircled faster and faster with the closing
bars Of the coda With the last chord they
stopped. The dark-haired young mar with
drew his arm reluctantly from his partners
slim waist, and then they went off arm-in-
arm towards the shadow of the t~rees-dark-
haired youth and fair-haired youth, all the
world to each other, and infinitely happy.
Faust and Marguerite" said a %corpulent
citizen, who had been watching the dancers
while he talked of Bismarck and the DUO
de Gramont.
Happily l see no Mephistopheles," re-
piled his companion. '1f the young people
go to perdition it will be their own doing
THE girl is very pretty" said the other,
"and think have seen her lovers face
before tonight"
"He is to be seen any day at the Cafe
Malmus. lie is a journalist sprig OF
nobility, l believe, but as poor as Job. lie
writes for the papers. lie ranks as al
esprit fort and something of a wit"
And tho girl-do you know who she Isl
She has hardly the air of a grisette."
"Sho is like Nilsson in Marguerite. No
I'll swear she is no g~r!sette-nothing Of the
Mimi Pinson there, my friend. Inever saw
her till tonight. Look yonder, just emerg
ing from the trees; do you seeY'
us it Mephistopheles?"
mo, but the spirit of evil in a womanA
~shape-envy, hatred, revenge, all incarnat'
in a jealous woman. Great Heaven, such
face-Sec, see!'
His friend looked in the direction indi
Gated. Yes; there, creeping from the cover
of the trees, stealthily, serpent-like, stolt
J forth a ~woman-young, handsome, smartl!
dressed, with ablack silk gown, and a bon
net all roses and lace-a shopkeeper in holi
day attire. The face was dark with hatret
and malice. the eyes were bright with angr
fires. Slowly, stealthily, the footsteps fol
lowed in Tie path the lovers lad aken-fol
lowing as the shadow follows the sun, a
] night follows day.
But now the band struck up a quadrill
composed OF the llVelleSt airs from III
PrfnceSSe de Trebizondc, which had latcl.
enchanted the boulevards; and then begal
those wild ctoric measures in which Pa
risian youth excels all other nations. TIL,
hnbttues Of the garden-the clerks and tn
%shoprpen and the commercial travellers, in
dustrial and intellectual youth of ever
~grade-began their diversions, to the de
light Of the spectators. Legs were flung il
the air, wild ieapings and convuislve evOlr
lions diversified the humdrum figures of tn
legitimate quadrilie; each dancer tried t
out-Herodh his uis-d-uts. Now the righthad it
anon, by a still wilder bound, the left tr
amphed; while the lookers-on laughed an
applauded. But there was no offence i
this outbreak of Muscular activity and higI
spirits. Sunday dances at these gardens ar
sacred to the people. There is very littt
admixture of the dcmt-monde on a Sunda
evening; the clerk and the counter-jumpel
the little industries of Paris, have the iiel
to themselves.
The journalist and his fair-haired swee
heart did not reappear in the quadrill,
They were sauntering side by side III tn
ehadnwv walks. hearing the Joyous mus
vaguely; for the lowest whisper of a lover
voice has more power on the listening es
IF 1ova finn the lOudpsk orchestra that av,