The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1890-07-11
THE RED FLAG.

lnG nGD PlAU.
M. E.. BRADDON.
Author OF .Lady Audicy's Secret"
etc. etc. etc.
Every morning she put a little bunch of
flowers onyiis writing-table by the window.
And yet in her heart of hearts she was COLI
WINGED that he was dead, and that it was his
blood she had seen staining the dusty ground
Iii the street of the Avenue d'ltalie. And
then when this work of busting, polishing,
and arranging everything was done, work
over which she fingered lovingly, she would
put on her little black bonnet, with a thick
Grape veil over her face, and go out and
wander about the streets and the quays, and
loiter on the bridges, hearing all that could
be heard of the public news People re-
spected that black gown and bonnet, and
the thick mourning veil. She was recog-
nizcd as II OF the many mourners who Ind
been left behind after that awful tide Of
blood and fire had rolled over Paris. Lone
Tested her. She went from place to place,
SNSohS ~ IN Ah"JSsLy VA ~ NNoOt'NtiVhs
She saw the long files of ~insurgent prison.
ers led along the streets, fastened together
by their elbows, with lowered heads, still
fierce and shuddering from the bloody bat
tie guarded by q Gordon of soldiers. She
saw the exasperated crowd flinging Itself
savagely upon these victims of their leaders
folly, trying to break through the Gordon of
soldiers, the women more furious than the
men, str king at the prisoners with their
umbrellas, crying, Death to the assassinsl
Tothe fire with the incendiaries!'
When some poor painting wretch, exhaust
ed by fatigue, tottered and fell, and was
picked up by the gendarmes and put in one
OF the vehicles of relief which followed the
convoy, there was q howl of fury from the
mob:
No, no." they cried. "shoot him on the
sroty'
And as the dismal train passed through
the villages, N the quiet country roads,
there was the same chorus of insults and
executions, n torture that knew no cessa-
ton TIL the prisoners reached the camp at
Satory, where they had the naked earth for
their bed, and the sky for their shelter.
Perhaps some among these pilgrims of tho
chain may have assisted In that other pro-
cession OH the eth of May,when Emile Co.'s
andshis m%yrmidons drove the priests and
gendarmes to the place Of butchery in the
Rue Haxo.
Tho day OF reprisals had come, and the
day was bitter. And the cry of Paris Is like
the voice of the daughter Of Zion that be-
woileth herself, that spreadeth her hands,
saying, "Woe is me now, for my soul is
wearied because of murdcrers!"
In all her wanderings, those loiterings un-
der the lines and the naples, on the boule-
ward, or on a bench in the Champs Elysees,
where the old air of gaiety began once more
to enliyen the scene, Kathleen had as yet
heard nothing Of the missing Serizier. The
people whom she questioned were either
densely ignorant-they had never heard Of
the manor they remembered him vaguely
as one of those heroes OF the hour, n shoddy
Achilles, who had strutted in a gaudy uni
form and played the soldier in a passing
show; or they were Indifferent, shrugged
their shoulders, believed that Selizier had
been killed IN one of the barricades at Belle
vile yonder, or that he had been shot ut
Mazas with a gang OF insurgents.
At last, however. one tender June even
ing, when the storled windows of Notre
Dame flung broken colored lights, like scat
tered Jewels, upon the placid bosom of the
Seine, hard by the Morgue, which lay low
in the shadow yondcr, like the black hull Of
some slaye-ship, Kathleen, standing by the
low parapet, listening to the deep-toned
harmonies of the distant organ, heard two
men talking Of Serizier.
They had known him evidently; he had
been one Of their intimates at some period
of his career; but they were not talking Of
h}sr, pn,tkh ~, S-o rS,, %L "a <s,1n1tS Ill.,
man had been too great u brute to conciliate
even his own class.
II got of, sure enough" said one. 'lie
was cleverer than T%heophile Ferre,o or Raoul
Rigault, or MeGy, and the rest of them. /
met him after dark, on the 25th of May, In
the Place Jeanne dare. He was in q fever
OF fright, poor wretch, shaking from head
to foot with agitation and excitement. Aft
er all, there is a difference in killing and
being killed, and Serizler thought his turn
had come. His boots and trousers were red
with the blood of the Dominicans, and he
complained Of having to wear a uxiform
that was likely to betray his identity. He
was colonel of the 10lst battalion, YOU NAV
remember. aud had been very proud Of his
unifofm-bulldog that he was. Well, lie
had never done me any good turn that
could remember; but one is glad to hide a
hunted beast when the hounds are close up
on him; 80 I told him l had a married sister
living in the Rue Chateau des Renters, and
that ! could get him shelter in her lodging,
which was on the ground floor, at the back,
looking into q walled yard-a safe kennel
for any dog to hide III. He jumped nt the
offer, and / took him to my sisters place,
gave him a supper, and a bit of carpet to lie
upon, and q blouse and a pair Of linen trou.
sers In exchange for his fine feathers, and
lent him a razor to cut off his military nous.
tache; and at break of day he left us, clean.
shaved and dressed like q workman"
And you conclude that he got out OF
Paris that morning?' asked the other man.
HE was q fool If ne did not, having a fail
chance"
The question Is whether he had a chance
That bulldog muzzle of his would not be
easily forgotten, and the Government wa
bard on his track on account of the slaugh'
ter OF the Dominlcans, which really was q
little too,much ;even;we of the International
thought he had gone too far. I should think
1t would be easier for him to hide in Paris
than to leave Paris just then.n
Perhaps; but there has been plenty OF
time since for him to get clear off. / dare
say ho ISL 'ng by his craft as q currier in
II of the big provincial towns. He would
have to live by his trade; for / know he car
ried no money with him when he made of
that morning"
A %curricr! Here was something gained
/. at least" Kathleen thought. Until this mo
ment she had not known the original avo
cation Of the warrior Serlzier, commandan'
of the famour 101st. the hero of Issy am
Chattillon. A %currier! Here was a failing
off indeed for tile Ajax of the gutter!
One of the provincial towns! Alas, TIL!
was indeed a vague clue. Rouen, Hayre
L. Gus, Tours, Rennes-thcna names of q dczel
great eli les came into Kathleen's mind n
she went slowly homcward, downcast am
Il sh'ar;enel. lie lived; that was some
tA!ng for her to know. He lived to expiat'
his er;mc, to suffer rs she suffered, to rende
homt for blood. Her life, her brain, he
lcsst should be devoted to the task of find
ing him; her hand should point him out t.
the law lie had outraged.
All that niglt-the soft summer night
fu.l Of the murmuring Of leayes-evcn her
in der oiate i.ar,s, where the ruined house
TODD up b ank and black, with shattcrc'
wimiows, through which the moonligh
stone and the June winds blew; a handful