Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1891-05-27

at last, in her perfect tameness, he no lone.
er felt the slightest fear.
he spent great part of his time in
sleeping, but ever, like a spider in its web
with mind alert, that he might not let de-
hverance escape him, should any chance tn
pass within the sphere described by the
horlzon. lie had sacrificed his shirt to
make a flag, which he had hoisted to the
summit OF palm tree stripped of leaves.
Taught by necessity, he had found the
means to keep it spread by stretching il
with sticks, lest the wind should fail tn
wave 1t at the moment when the hoped-for
traveller might be travelling the waste of
sand.
1t was during the long hours when hone
abandoned him that he amused himself
with his companion. He had learned To
understand the different infections of her
voice and the expression of her glances:
he had studied the varying changes of the
spots that starred her robe of gold
Mignonne no longer growled, not even
when he seized her by the tuft with which
her terrible tail ended to count the black
and white rings which adorned it. and
which glittered in the sun like precious
gems. 1t delighted him to watch the deli
cate soft lines of her snowy breast and
graceful head. But above all, when she
was gamboling in her play he watched
her with delight, for the agility, the youth
fitness of all her movements filled him
with an ever fresh surprise.
He admired her suppleness IN leaping.
climbing, gliding, pressing close against
MN, swaylng, rolling over, crouching for
a bound. But however swift her spring,
however slippery the block of granite she
would stop short, without motion, at the
sound of the word ''Aiigponue"
One day, in the most dazzling sunshine,
an enormous bird was lowering in the air
Inc Provencal left his panther to examine
this new visitor; but after waiting for
moment the deserted sultana uttered
hoarse growl.
Blessed if / don't believe that she is
jealous!' he exclaimed, perceiving that her
eyes were once more hard and rigid. ~
woman's soul has passed into her body,
that is certainI''
The eagle disappeared in the air, while
he admired afresh the rounded back and
graceful outlines of the panther. She was
as pretty as woman. The blonde fur
blended IN its delicate graduations into the
duIl white color of the thighs. The brill
liant sunshine made this vivid gold, with
spots of brown, take on a luster indescriba-
bic. The Provencal and the panther
looked at one another understandingly.
The beauty of the desert quivered when
she felt the nails of her admirer on her
skull. Her eyes gave forth a flash like
lightning, and then she closed them hard.
she has soulr' he cried as he beheld
the desert queen in her repose, golden as
the sands, white as their binding luster.
and, like them, fiery and alone.
J-T ,1al !
end-through a misunderstanding. Each
thinks the other guilty of falsity, each is
too proud for explanation, and obstinacy
brings about a rupture"
Il don't know how l hurt her, but she
turned on me like mad, and with her sharp
teeth seized my thigh. The action was not
savage; but fancying that she meant to kill
me plunged my dagger into her neck.
She rolled over with u cry that froze my
blood; she looked at me in her last strug.
giles without anger.
Il would have given everything on earth,
even my cross-which then had not won
to bring her back to life. II was as if |
had slain human being. And the soldiers
who had seen my flag. and who were hast
ening to my succor, found me bathed in
tears.
well, sir he went on, after a mo-
ment's silence, since then / have been
through the wars in Germany, Spain, Rus
STA, France; l have dragged my carcass
round the world; but there is nothing like
the desert in my eyes! All! it is beautiful
superb
what did you feel there's l inquired
of him.
"'Oh that ] cannot tell you. Besides, ]
always regret my panther and my clump
of palm trees | must be sad of heart for
that. But mark my words. In the desert
there is everything and there is nothing
Explain yourself
"'Wellr he continued with a gesture of
Impotence, 1T is God without man. ~
Translated from the French of Balzac for
the Boston Globe.