Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1890-07-12
THE RED FLAG.
M. f. BRADDON.
Author OF "Lady Audlcy's Secret"
etc. efc- etc.

blood she had seen staining the dusty ground
in the street off the Avenue d'Italle. And
ticn when this work of busting. polishing,
AID arranging everything was done, work
over which she fingered lovingly, size would
~; on her little black bonnet, with n thick
crlpc veil over her face, and 20 out anl
wander about the streets and the quays, and
lniler on the bridges. hearing all that could
b. heard Of the public news. People re-
81. cted that black gown and bonnet, and
tie ;hick mourning veil. She was recog-
niIed as one CT the many mourners who had
been left behind after that awful tide Of
blood and fire had rolled over Paris. Lone
j. rs she was, young, beautiful, no one mo-
,es;ed her. She went from place TO place,
sgcare IN the majesty Of her desolation.
She saw the long files Of insursent prison.
CT led along the streets, fastened together
b. their elbows, with lowered heads, still
fierce and shuddering from the bloody bat
Tie guarded by a Gordon of soldiers. She
saw the exasperated crowd Ainglng itself
sayagely upon these victims Of their leaders
folly, trying to break through the Gordon Of
soldiers, the women more furious than the
men, striking at the prisoners with their
umbrellas, crying, death to the assassinsl
To the fire with the incendiariesv'
When some poor painting wretch, exhaust
ell 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 a howl OF fury from the
mob:
NO. no." they cried, 'shoot him on the
sfotr
And as the dismal train passed through
tie villages, on the quiet country roads,
there was the same chorus Of insults and
excavations, a torture that knew no cessa-
ton till 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 the
Chain may have assisted In that other pro-
ccssion on the 27th Of May, when Emile Co.'s
and his m%yrmidons drove the priests and
gcndarmes to the place Of butchery In the
Rue Haxo.
The 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-
waileth herself, that ~spreadeth her hands,
saying, WOE Is me now, for my soul Is
wearled because of murdererst'
In all her wanderings, those loiterings un-
DIR the lines and the naples, on the boule-
ward, or on a bench in the Champs Elysees,
NANip aHS O1u III Va EalCkg pNSdiA oiiNN hloht
TO enllyen the scene, Kathleen had as yet
heard nothing of the missing SeriZler. The
PEOPLE whom she questioned were either
dcnsely ignorant-they had never heard Of
the man-or they remembered him vaguely
as one OF those heroes OF the hour, q shoddy
Achilles, who had s;rutted In q gaudy uni
form and played the soldier In a passing
show; or they were indifferent, shrugged
their shoulders, believed that Serizier had
been killed on one of the barricades az Belle
vile yonder, or that he had been shot at
Mazas with a gang Of insurgents.
At last, however, one tender June even
Ing, when the storied windows Of Notre
Dame flung broken colored lights, like scat
I red jewels, upon the placid bosom of the
Seine, hard by the Morgue, which lay low
In the shadow yonder, like the black hull Of
some slaye-ship, Kathleen, sanding by the
low parapet, listening TO the deep-toned
barmonies 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
him with any warmth OF friendship. The
man had been too great q brute TO conciliate
even his own class.
'He got of, sure enough" said one. "IIe
was ~cleverer than Theophile Ferre, or Raoul
liigault, or AIegy, and the rest Of them. /
met him after dark, on the ash Of May, in
the Place Jeanne dare. He was In q fever
Of fright, poor wretch, shaking from head
tQ. foot with agitation and excitement. Aft
cS .Ssahere Is difference la killing and
Lad come. HIS boots and trousers were red
with the blood of the Dominicans, anG he
complained OF having 10 wear q uniform
that was likely TO betray his identity. He
was colonel Of the 10lst battalion, you may
remember. and had been very proud Of his
uniforp-bulldog that he was. Well, he
lad never done me any good turn that /
could remember; but one is glad to hide O
hunted beast when the hounds are close up
on him; so / told him / had a married sister
living In the Rue Chateau des Renters, and
that l could get him shelter in her lodging,
which was on the ground-loor, at the back,
looking into q walled yard-a safe kennel
for any dog to hide In. He jumped at the
offer, and j took him TO my sisters place,
gave him a supper, and a bit OF carpet to lie
upoh, and n blouse and a pair Of linen trou-
sers In exchange for his fine feathers, and
lent him a razor to cut of his military nous.
tache; aud at break Of day he left us, clean
shaved and dressed like a workman
"And you conclude that he got out of
Paris that morning. asked the other man.
HE was a fool If he did not, having a fair
chapce."
The question Is whether he had a chance.
That bulldog muzzle of his would not be
easily forgotten, and the Government was
hard on bis track on account of the slaugh-
ter Of the Dominicans, which really was o
little too:much evenswe Of the International
thought he had gone too far. l should think
1t would be easier for him to hide In Paris
than to leave Paris just them"
Perhaps; but there has been plenty OF
time since for him to get clear of. / dare
say he Is II 'ng by his craft as a currier in
one Of the big provincial towns. He would
have to live by his trade; for l know he car
ried no money with him when he made of
that morning"
A %currier! Here was something gained,
at least" Kathleen thought. Until this mo-
mcnt she had not knownth he original ayo-
cation Of the warrior Serizler, commandant
OF the famour i0lst, the hero Of lssy and
Chattillon. A %currier! Here was a falling
CIT indeed for the Ajax of the gutterl
One Of the provincial towns! Alas, This
was indeed a vague clue. Rouen, Havre,
Lyons, Tours, Rennes-the names of adezen
great cities came INTO hitilieeu , miuu bo
she went slowly homeward. downcast and
dsheartened. He lived; that was some-
thing fer her to know. lie lived 10 expiate
bis crime, to suffer as she suffered, to render
hood fer blood. Her life, her brain, her
heart should be devoted to the task of find-
Ing him; her hand should point him out TO
the law he had outraged.
All that night-the soft summer night,
fall Of the murmuring Of leayes-even here
IL desolafei i'aris, where the ruined houses
st)od up bank and black, with shattered
windows, through which the moonlight
shone and the June winds blew; n handful
OF dust, q fragment of crumbllng mortar,
falling every now and then as the zephyrs
touched the brokea w~alls-all that night
Kathleen lay broad awake, staring at the
easement opposite her bed; and when day
dawncd-the sweet summer dawn that came
so soon-she sprang up, and began to wash
and dress. Her Plan was formed.
One Of those two men had said there was
safer hiding for such Us Serizlcr In Paris
than outside Paris; the other had said that
he had no money upon him at the time OF
his supposed flight. Without money how