The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1891-04-22

NJ lillS nOluCnb AAAO anu
Mdle. Faurie were standing at the
head Of the hall under large and fanci-
fully decorated hanging-lamp.
with your generous permission | will
read this" she said.
He bowed assent with a word or two of
soft politeness, at the same time the play
of flush and pallor on her face and the
trembling of her jeweled hands "a she
glanced with Uncontrolled eagerness at
the writing.
He was a deep and shrewd man, with q
memory that never lost ANYTHING. In
stantly he recalled that he had been told a
few days agone the story of a romantic
love existing between Mdlle. Faurie and
the one fugitive from his vengeance, Emile
Delpit. A grim half-smile played over
his lace, and he touched his smooth, firm
chin with his fore6nger, gesture char
acteristic of him when some new thought
arose suddenly in his mind.
Mdlle Hortense read and re-read
the short missive with nervous rapidity,
and thrust it into the folds Of her dress
When she looked up into the command
ants face, there WAS strange brilliance
in ner eyes. and on either cheek burned
a bright red spot, that made the rest of
her face look pale as MARBLE but she
spoke lightly:
"a small thing to interrupt our pleas
ure," she said, touching his arm. "Are
we too late for the dancep
at is never too late when beauty calls -
he responded, in the mode of flattery
prevalent at the time. 81 hope there was
no bad news in your note?"
Nothing OF the kind, ! assure you,"
she replied, with return OF certain
archness very becoming to her; lit would
make you smile to read it."
But not for the world would you let me
see one word of it"
Surely not. Young ladies do not share
their pretty notes with their friends, not
even with commandants."
''BIt commandments sometimes have a
way of demanding mysterious papers,
even from beautiful young ladies'"
There was a tremendous meaning in his
soft, firm voice, it seemed to her, and she
felt a thrill of something like terror fly
throughout her frame, and her limbs be-
came suddenly weak; but she controlled
herself by calling up all the forces of her
will.
She took his offered arm, and as they
went to join the dance she looked up into
his ewes. lie probably never forgot that
glance. A man of his years, a soldier ac-
customed to all the hardships and harden
ing circumstances of military experience
In time when war meant rapine, plum
der and indeed, acquisition by any means
fair or foul, could not be expected to have
very tender feelings, and, certainly, ne
was not in the least sentimentalist; but,
as the diary continues: "a flush was seen
to sufuse his strongly furrowed cheeks,
as he bent low and said something to ner"
What Don Alexander 0'Reilly said was
meant TO reassure her, butt failed to have
that effect. 1t was:
Never mind, Mdlle. Faurle; even a
rough old soldier may speak lightly"
Especially on so light a subject" she
remarked, trying to smile brightly.
do not try to deceive me-" he gravely
responded. 81 know who wrote your let
ter. A lover is lover, no matter if a
price is on his head"
She tried to nerve herself, tried to be
brave and show no distress; but her
strength failed her; she could not dance,
aud the commandant led her to a seat.
He bent over her again, and speaking
in measured tone, said:
Control yourself. 1 do not wish a
scene, and, moreover, assure you that
/ have not meant to cause you pain"
He turned and walked away, leaving
her sitting somewhat concealed, from the
rest of the company by tall tuft of pal
metto leaves. Doubtless he felt that she
would recover her self-possession more
readily in his absence.
No sooner was he gone than she drew
forth the crumpled note and read it again
and again.
No young lady, perhaps, ever received a
more surprising missive under more excit-
ing circumstances. She had not seen
Emile Delpit since just before that dread
full day when O'Reilly had summoned the
Inflated French conspirators to his head
quarters.
This note, which was not only in his
well-known handwriting but bore his pic
turesque signature in full, she read as fol-
lows
"Be prepared to dance with me at pre-
cisely II o'clock. ! shall walk right in
and claim your hand we will dance, and
then | shall bid the company and the
distinguished host au revolr, and depart.
Bear yourself bravely.
always and always yours,
"EMILE DELPIT."
The spirit of this writing was entirely in
accord with the young mans character,
and ii suggested but another exhibition
of mis- audacious courage and self-reli-
ance.
Mdlle Faurie knew we'll that promptly
at the hour designated her lover would
stalk into the midst of that company with
as little hesitancy as would trouble the
breast of an actor of melodrama on the
stage of theater.
What was she to do? It was already
l1;30.
1t appeared absolutely impossible that
an act so desperate could end in anything
but disaster, and to her suddenly heated
Imagination the whole terrible scene arose
like reality-the capture, the hasty trial,
the swift execution, the coffin of her lover
borne to the grave, the desolation of heart,
the end of hope in this life.
What could she do?
She must do something, and that quick
ly; but what?
If she had known where to find Delpit.
she would have fled to him at once with
the hope of preventing his rash adventure !;
but she could have no hint of bis where
abouts or from what direction he would
come. She thought of going out to watch
for his approach, but a moments cOnsid-
Grafton disclosed how foolish this would
be for it was impossible that she could
leave the house unobserved.
II was while she was revolving a thous-
and conflicting and refractory suggestions
in her strained and throbbing brain that
Don Alexander O'Reiliy returned to her
side and said:
0T hone Won feel better Mdlle Hor-