The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-12-27
world with a waveang mist dream OF

to depart for France, when one morn
ing he informed Bauderet that he and
Isobel were to be married, and would
set sail within fortnight to make Paris
their home.
At first Bauderet was stupefed by the
announcement. He gazed almost va
cantly into his friends eyes, while his
face grew deadly white. Not feature
moved, however, nor did the quiet smile
quite go from his firm, thin lips. 1t was
an admirable exhibition of that self con-
troll which in those days was SO much
cultivated by gentlemen who were in
the habit Of settling al matters of per-
sonal disagreement ;.t the point Of sword
or muzzle of pistol.
OF course Verot had counted the cost,
and fully expected duel, but he was
pleasantly surprised to find that Bau-
deret would not demand a meeting.
Furthermore, instead Of appealing to
the code the host who had been so
cruelty robbed took the turn of affairs
| with philosophic resignation truly adj
mirable. After the first great struggle
against the terrible disappointment
which the disaster to his hopes had
brought he drew close to his friend and
wished MIN great joy.
Verot was both touched and awed by
the strange change that came over Bau
deret's face and manner 1t was slow,
mysterious transformation of the man.
His face took on an inscrutable mask of
quiet, almost serene, resignation, behind
which something suggested immeasur-
able depths Of poignant suffering. In
his eyes at times burned light which
startled Verot and haunted his dreams
at night.
Love predominates everything, how
ever, and the passionate young Partisan
was so bewildered and blinded in the
rose mist Of happiness that the deepest
significance of BauderetS conduct was
entirely lost to him. Ee was aware of
nothing much besides his impending
nuptials, the tender glory of the semi
tropical spring time and the wild fiut-
ings of the lusty hooking birds
About this time, as is now known,
Bauderet went frequently to see an old
negress, a voudoo charm weaver, and
procured from her phial of hideous
poison--a black liquid, thick, rank.
frenzy bearing-made from the heads of
snakes, the tails of scorpions and the
roots of various deadly weeds all stepped
together for many days. Among the
A trican voudoo workers this liquid was
known by an appellation which meant
H. T. %
madness of the most hopeless kind. Its
connection was attended with the most
solenlnly horrible of rites and incanta-
tons.
1t was the night before Isobel and
Verot's WEI lding day. Bauderet appeared
to be in better spirits than usual; he had
some rare old wine brought into the
library, and he and Verot sat up till late
drinking and smoking, while they per-
mitted thu 9mselves perfect freedom in
conversation.
Although, as / have said, their tastes
were similar, no two men could have
been less alike in personal appearance
than wepe Verot and Bauderet. The
Partisan was tall, athletic, fair, with
blue eyes and yellow, curling hair, while
the creole was dark, slight, black eyed,
mysterious looking, possessing the singu-
lar magnetism of face at once hand
some and inscrutable. Bauderet's slight
ness was not physical frailty, however,
for he was a noted swordsman, pos
sessed of extraordinary nervous energy.
1t was late IN the night and the lamps
were burning low. the flames Pickering
family and faltering in their brazen
sockets among the pendant crystal brill
iants, when Rauderet arose and said:
"Wen, my dear old fellow, it is grow
ing late, and you must not be drowsy on
your wedding morn. One more cigar
Just one-the best that Cuba ever gave
to the lips of man, and then to your
dreams"
He fetched from little hanging cabi-
net small ivory box curiously carved
and mounted in gold, out of which he
took two large oscuros separately
wrapped in silver foil. One of these he
handed to Verot, at the same time light
ing the other.
1.-The last two of a priceless lot sent
me two years ago by a friend at Ha-
vana," he said.
Verot daintily brushed the almost
black cigar across his nose to inhale its
fragrance, and instantly recoiled, for
there came from it a strange, insinu-
ating and unbearable stencil.
THAT is nothing" laughed Bauderet,
with hollow, brutal ring in his voice
that startled Verot. When you light it
the smell disappears, and the smoke is
exquisitely fine. See" and ne pulled a
light cloud toward his friends nostrils.
''Isn't that incompatible bouquet"
Verot put the cigar between his teeth
and tried to light it, but the thrill Of
atrocious evil that flashed through his
nerves caused him to let it fall.
Its horrible!" he exclaimed. 81 can't
bear it,"
"Oh, what womanish qualms" re-
marked Bauderet, almost testify, picking
up the fallen oscuro and handing it to
his guest. Smoke it; this may be our
last night together. and-and"-
Something in Bauderet's voice ap-
pealed to Nerot's sympathy, while at the
same time it made his heart almost
sink. A man lying in his coffin, ready
to be buried alive, might have had such
a strain in his voice. His face was
white, with that ghastlness which comes
in extreme moments 10 dark counte-
nance, and his eyes, strangely dilated,
burned with a dusAy, deep set brill
lance.
You know how / feel, Verot-you
know how l feel.