The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1890-06-20
THE RED FLAG.
M. E. BRADDON.
Author OF "Lady Audley's Secret
etc. etc. etc.

at1tlt -r-st=AsH4 4Nt .aE
M. E.
Author OF "Lady Audley's Secret.
etc. etc. etc.
Suzon was drunk with blood, half-blindeG
> by fire. Those flashing eyes of hers, bright
as they were, saw all things dimly, through
a fiery haze.
The prlests-yes, she would help to slaugh
ter them; not because she knew anything
about this particular brood of cdLottns, bu1
because she hated all priests. They had
done her no wrong; but her pious neighbor:
had despised her for keeping away from
church; they had thrown their religion ir
her face; they had scorned her for her inf
deity.
Beware Of that womanv' said an ole
man whom she had offended. ''The woman
who never crosses the threshold of a church
belongs to a venomous Species"
Yes, she would help in the good work
How the earth shivered under that awful
c%annonadel Tho enemy was at the door;
nearer and nearer came the thunder of the
guns. The deadly rain from the mitrail-
leuses came fast as the heavy drops of q
thunder shower. The afternoon sun looked
red as blood yonder, as its lurid rays pierced
the smoke. The circle was narrowing, mar
rowing. narrowing, closing in upon them
like n ring of fire. Whom would they spare,
those Versaillais devils? Not one. Universal
carnage would change the streets Of Paris
to rivers OF blood lit by a city in flames.
Not a life, not a house would be spared.
Let us begin!' shrieked Suzon, beside
herself; "let us work with such a good will
that there shall be nothing left for those
others to do"
Are you ready?" asked Serizier, facing
the door of. the prison, with his assass MS
ranged on either side of him.
No one of them shall escape, my gencr-
al" answered Suzon, grasping her gun.
Her voice was hoarse and rough, like his
own. From head to heel, mind, soul, body,
the creature had unsexed herself; and these
were even more savage than
the devil-men of those days, for they
Thought their infamy heroism and their
cruelty courage. Not one of these furies,
waving her petroleum-can, s%houldering her
chassepot, but fancied herself a modern
Maid of Orleans.
And now the victims were driven into the
street, like sheep to the slaugh;er-house.
Pass, one by one" cried lob che the
gaoler, who held his six-year-old son by tho
hand.
Was it not we'll for the boys to see the
tonsured heads laid low? 1t is thus France
rears her patriots-young Romans sucked
by the wolf Revolution.
The Dominlcans, the school-servants, the
Journalist crossed the fatal threshold. The
first to pass was Father Cotrault, and, at the
third step, lie fell, struck by a bullet.
The Prior turned to his companions.
Come, my friends, for the love of Cod,
he said, in his mild voice; and he and his
little train rushed into the open, and ran
athwart the rain of bullets.
Suzon flung herself into the midst of the
road, at the risk of being shot down in the
melee. She loaded and reloaded her chasse-
pot, crying, "Cowards, towards! they are
running away!'
1t was not a butchery, but a bdttue. The
poor human game tried to flee, hid itself be-
hind the trees, slipped along under the lee
OF the houses. Women ut open windows
clapped their hands and shrieked with Joy
hsthey watched the sport; in the street men
shook their fists at the victims; the scene
was alive with insult and laughter, voices
that sounded like the bowling of furious
T beasts. if "as q new carnival of flowers
and sugar-p.ums; OILY he flowers were liz
suit and outrage, the sugar-piu,as were bull
lets.
Some of the more active gained the side
streets, and escaped the leaden shower.
Five of the priests, seven of the school-ser-
wants, were shot down in a heap before the
Chapelle Brea.
Fire, fire upon themI" cried Serizier,
when q convulsive movement showed that
life still thrObbed amidst this mass of death.
and ono poor bleeding form that had family
stirred received t%hirty-one bullets.
See" cried Snzon, as Mortemar, slender,
active, 1.-the, with youth and vigor on his
side, sped lightly along the boulevard and
vanished at n distant turning, there goes
one that will cheat us!'
She rushed off in pursuit Of him, breath
less, painting, mad with rage. Two of Scrt-
tiers lambs ran with her, pleasantly excited
~ the chase. The hunters reached the
turning, and there, a few paces down The
narrow street, leaning against a lamp-post,
exhausted by the rapidity of his fight, stood
the quarry.
The men fired instantly. Suzon lifted her
gun to her should Rand then suddenly lei II
fall to her side. She dashed her hand across
her eyes. Was it q dream? Was she for
ever haunted, waking as well as sleepinr
by that one face? Through the haze of
h'ootl and fire she saw the face of the man
she lOved-loyed and hated, and hated and
loved. She scarce knew which feeling was
dominant in . breast where both fires burn
I'd so fierccly. She saw him, pale as ashes,
Ills livid lips parted, his eyes staring wildly,
rs men look into the face Of sudden violent
death; hunted humanity at bay, the hounds
Closing round. the hun.S:man ready with his
krife. Athin stream of blood trickled down
The pale face. One of the bullets had grazed
Ills temple.
Hold, holdr' shricked Suzon, throwing
aside her gun, and stretching her arms wide
In passionate cntrcaty; do not tirc!"
Too late; another volley wl,istled past
her, MS she sank on her knees, screaming.
pleading, b'asphem!ng. She did not know
now to pray.
CASTOR Mortcmar fell without a groan.
S&zon sprAng TO her feet, picked up her
gun, and struck at the C~ommunards with
The bait-end, ntnsing about her like a devil.
Str,zier's lambs burst out laughing. They
Thought she was drunk. In these days.
when the atmosphere brcathed cognac and
'a3sin;hc, 1t was only natural that 4 woman
aoEll be drunk. They laughed, and left
Yer, LAYING done all there was to do here;
left her grovelling on the ground by the
tampToSt, alone with her dead, the warm
May sun shining on her through the smoke
of the battle, the air smelling of blood and
burning.
While she hung over the PROSTATE figure,
Tying face dOwnwards on the bloody dust,
inc rlythmical trot of the cavalry sounded
In the distance, and the French troops were
entering the Avenue d'Italie. ScrIzier had
retired into the prison when the carnage
was over, and was occupied in revising a
list OF victims who were to be desr atcled
with something more OF formality than he
had deemed necessary in the case of the
D"minicans ;cut at the moment when he was
about to order out the first prisoners upon
his list, his lieutenant rlshed in, and whis-
pared in his ear.
All was over. The column of cavalry was
seen advancing. The colonel of the 18th
legion flung aside his papers, dashed into
The avenue, threw himself into one of the
houses communicating with the Avenue de
Choisy, and disappeared.
/. When the French troops arrived they
found nothing but mutilated corpses.
CHATTER TX.
THE MONT WATCH OF DEATH.
Fearful was the night that followed that
hideous day. Burning, burning, burning;
burning and bloodshed everywhere. The