The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1890-07-25
THE RED FLAG.
M. e. BRADDoN.

Ak0 1SAO 4A4xO1
BY
NJ. e. BRADDON.
Author OF "Lady Audley's Secret"
etc etc. etc.
On this September evening the street was
empty, save for a couple of woman stand
ing talking at street-door, a little way
from the lamp-post by which Castor fell.
The house facing this fatal spot was empty,
had been empty ever since Kathleen had
known the street. The windows were cloud
ed with dust; the board announcing its va
cancy had fallen on one side, and hung dis
consulate. The proprietor had, doubtless,
abandoned all hope of finding a tenant un-
til the evil days had passed, and q new birth
of prosperity had come about for this fair
land of France. 1t was . dreary-looking
house In a dreary streets new house which
had grown old and shabby without ever
having been occupied.
Kathleen walked slowly up and down the
street two or three times, coming back to
the fatal spot, and standing beside it for a
few minutes with bent head and clasped
hands, and lips moving dumbly in prayer
for the beloved dead. On the last timo she
saw a woman coming towards the same spot
coming as If to meet her, a woman who
looked to her like ghost. Yes, like one
dead, who had come back to life purified
and chastened by the pilgrimage through
the valley of the shadow of death.
1t was Suz0n Michel, but not the Suzon of
old. The fire in the large black eyes was
quencheG, the face had lost its brazcn bold
ness, the rich carnation of sensual vigorous
haey&x, InoJ foloj fr,po $1a ,ha,G .nIa
grave face, with serious mournful eyes,
looked at Kathleen, and, recognizing her in
stantly, blanched to the ashy whiteness of q
corpse.
The women looked at each other in ST.
her way. They met and parted without a
word.
Two minutes afterwards, before she reach
ed the corner of the street, Kathleen turned
suddenly, and looked back, wanting to
speak to Suzon Michel, to question her, she
hardly knew wherefore or to what end.
She thought OF Suzon with horror and de-
testation; and yet they two had loved the
same man: Suzon might know more of the
details of Gaston's death than she, his wife,
had been able to discover. She might know
into what common grave his corpse had
been flung, beneath what clay his bones
were m%ouldering.
She turned, and the street was empty.
There was not o sign of Suzon in the dis
lance. Had she run ever SO FIST she could
not have reached the end of tho street. 1t
was clear, then, that she had gone into one
OF the houses.
But which houseP Kathleen loitcred in
the street for some time, contemplating
those dreary-looking houses, trying to divine
which of them had swallowed up Suzon
Michel, Presently n woman came and stood
at her door on the opposite side of the
street. Kathleen went over to her and
questioned her, describing Madame Michel,
and asking II she knew of such q person.
Tit woman was only u lodger OIL the
fourth story, and had not long lived there.
She worked in q mattress mandatory a lit
tie way off, was out all day, and knew moth
ing Of her n%eighbors.
There was nc n else in the way to ALL
swer an inquiry. Aud, after all what good
could come of any meeting between Kath-
Teen and Suzonp
"She hates me, and l do not love her.,
thought Kathleen. "But she is strangely
altered. l thought Rose was right when
she called her a creature altogether evil, a
Soul given over to wlckedness. Yet tonight
her face had a softer look; the unholy ire
Seemed to have gone out of 1t, as II the face
and the soul had been alike bleached and
chastened by suffering"
The days and weeks wore on, and the
mornings and evenings grew brisk and cold.
That curtain of sultry heat was lifted; the
dome of white-hot iron was taken off the
city, which no longer seemed like a caul-
dron SETTLING and bubbling over subterran.
can fires. The white vapors of summer
1oated away from the streets and quays,
from river and woods and gardens. 1t was
October, and the leaves were falling from
the poor remnants of trees in the mutilated
Bois, that lovely wood which had been hewn
down and converted into an abdttts. Au-
tunln had come, and Kathleen's work was
still uncompleted, still went on; the worker
patient, secret, logged, never for one mo
ment abandoning her purpose, never losing
faith. Not till she had seen every journey
man currier in Paris would she falter or
waver in her work. Then it would be time
to say, II have deceived myself; Serizier has
left Paris" and then it would be time to
think of following and hunting him down
In the place Of his exile, be it far or near,
In the Old World OF the New. Sea or land
should be as nothing to her in that search
distance and time as nothing. She felt as
II she were the spirit of vengeance, a disem-
: bodied soul, free from those letters which
make humanity feeble.
Day after day she went to her task-mo-
%notonous, dreary, fullof WEAKNESS for mind
and body; and yet she knew not WEAKNESS.
That iron purpose within her buoyed her
up and sustained her. The spirit conquered
the flesh.
There were days when she felt ill, very i'll
sick to death almost; but she flung her III
ness aside, as if it had been a garment that
embarrassed her movements, and went out
to her work. Her white face in those days
evoked the pity of strangers.
IA poor creature that ought TO be In the
hospital rather than in the streets, thought
the passers-by. Not long for this world"
said one. There is death in thai face"
said another.
lAther days there were when all her limbs
seemed one great aching pain; yet she
crawled down the steep old staircase and
into the dim morning streets; and, like an
old horse which begins his day stifiy and
fcebly, and shufiles himself into q trot I'M
der the goad OF the whip, she gathered mp
her strength for the journey, and quickened
her pace as she neared her goal.
Not one day did she miss in all those toll.
some weeks. Happily there were the Sun
days, blessed intervals of respite and rest,
which gave her new strength for the coming
six days.
On these quiet Sabbaths she rested all day
long, lying on her bed like a log, hardly
moving hand or foot, reading 4 little now
and then, bat, for the most part, resting
only r%csting-in a state of apathy, which
was little more than semi-consciousness.
Again and again the Dprands urged her
30 70 out with them on the Sunday, to &c,
fresh air, change, a little innocent gaiety, a
few hours of forgetfulness in some pretty
rustic spot. They offered TO take her to
Asnieres, to Bougival, to Marty lie Roi.
In vain.
'Ihave a good deal of walking every day.
She said. II like to rest-oMy to rest-on
Sundays"
She did not tell them that the agony of
wearlness was sometimes so acute towards
the close of the week that nothinS but this
long Say of total Inertia could have enabled
her 10 resume the round Of toll.
but you never go to mass now, Kath.
leen," said Rose, with gentle repyoachful-
ness. "You used to 60 regularly tothe dea,
Nli church ynndar ~ with a li+tJo n,o+;o, ~,