The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1894-09-12


10 get rid of such wretches. But this is
a republic, where people are quite free,
and don't know why the friends of lib
erty should want TO kill poor, helpless
souls, sitting by chance at a cafe-good
folks who perhaps, may hate the ty-
rants just much as they do l don't
see the use Of indiscriminate revolutpn."
Stanislas ran his fingers gently over
the smooth, bright locks. II was charm
ing 10 hear her in defense OF the bour-
geOisie The difference between their
natures took his fancy, just as much as
it had taken ESTES.
You don't understand these things,
my child,' he said. fondling her affec-
ttonately. "By-and-by. when you've
lived little longer in Europe, and when
I've had time TO unfold my ideas to you
slowly, you'll take a more sensible view
or the matter. But, after all, why dis
cuss 1t? Sit down in your chair by my
side here. little one. and let me go on
reading you those lines Of Victor HUI
go's"
sun. for the next few weeks in spite
OF what he said, a vague uneasiness op-
pressed poor Essie. II was dreadful to
think that dear Stanislas, who wouldn't
himself have injured a mouse, should
seem TO palliate, and even TO condone,
the hateful crimes of these detestable an
archists. 1t was dreadful, too, that he
should speak Of the people who perpetrat-
ed such acts by the same name as the
one he applied TO his own associates. the
friends of freedom. Moreover, Essie
noticed that during those next few weeks,
while outrages were attempted in various
parts of Paris, Stanislas went out more
frequently than ever TO his nocturnal
meetings. Strange men came and went
most mysteriously "au siNieme." l. quite
distressed her. Dear Stanislas was 50
good, she knew he could find excuses for
the wickedest creatures, and she loved
him for his charity. But she urged upon
him often that the friends of freedom
should protest in the strongest possible
terms against these hateful crimes that
were now being perpetrated every day
around them The more earnestly she
spoke, the more did Stanislas smile and
pinch her little ear; but he answered
gravely that she was quite right, and. if
only he knew how. he would do his best
10 prevent such outrages. Yet what could
he say that was Of any avail? They
worked underground in darkness and
snence-not even the police could dis
cover the lairs Of these secret conspira-
tors.
So things went on for week or two
To ESTES great delight. the more she
talked about the wickedness Of dynamite,
the more frankly did Stanislas begin 10
agree with her. She could quite under
stand how his poetic mind. misled at first
by its hatred Of tyrants, had failed to
dwell long enough at the earliest outset
upon the atrocity Of these outra ges. But
II was dll tDUllUE nOlIlE 10 Alill Dll@
hoped she had made him feel how wicked
these men were, and had enlisted the
sympathies OF the friends of liberty on
the side Of the poor creatures who sat
unthinhng in the cafes or churches which
the anarchists menaced.
At last, one night, little incident hap
pened which filed ESTES soul with un-
speakable forebOdings. II was
beautiful spring evening; the horse
chestnuts were in bloom; she
| leaned out of her window and
looked forth upon the boulevard. All the
world was promenading. In the distance
she saw Stanislas coming from the di-
rection of the great corner fountain, and
! by his side another man, with whom he
was talking earnestly. How handsome
he looked, and how vivid. dear Stanisias
she loved TO see him when he talked with
such eagerness. She watched them down
the roaE they approached the house.
Stanislas was carrying basket with
singular care. Essie followed them with
her eyes till they reached the gateway.
She heard them on the stairs, still con-
versing closely. Pure curiosity impelled
her to go to her door. which opened upon
the landing. and say "BOnsoir' TO Stanis-
las AS she looked out, Stanislas's eyes
caught hers. He raised his hat mechan-
| ically. AS he did so he gave a start. He
| seemed troubled and disquieted. For a
second the basket almost dropped from
| his hands; the other man caught il
| hastily away, with a gesture Of horror
| not unmiXed with anger. He said some
| ing aloud in Polish, which Essie did not
| understand. But she knew what IL
| meant, for all that 1t meant, Take
care, stupid And then, after pause,
that was q narrow escape, that tlmer'
Yet even so. she had no glimpse of the
! truth. She merely felt in some dim way
this was a friend of liberty. and that
| Stanislas and he were engaged in ami
mated DO1iticq1 discussion She nls
| back, abashed that she should have
! seemed to dear Stanisas TO have been
| spying and cavesdropping. Her one
| strong feeling was a feeling of self-re-
! proach for the obvious untimeliness of
| her awkward Intervention.
The man stopped upstairs in Stanislas's
| room for two long hours; and Essie,
/ listening hard. could hear no voices.
/ That was odd, for, as a rule, when dear
! Stanislas's friends came, be they Poles
! or painters. they were noisy enough in
| all conscience, as she could hear for her
self without any need for listening. But
/ that evening" not a sound. What on
! earth could it mean? ESTES heart stood
| still. Could they be whispering to-
| gether? And If Whispering. what then ?
| Must not that mean plotting? Plotting
| to get rid of that terrible car? ESTES
| tender little soul couldn't bear to think
! of it.
At last the man went, Essie heard
| Stanislas come to the door to say Good
night to him. "Au revoir, camarader'
'Au revoir, Laminskfi Courage, mon
| amir and then-the heavy footsteps
! As soon as they had died away, Essie
could stand IL no longer. She stole quiet
| ~ upstairs and knocked a gentle knock
at Stanisass door. There was a mo-
ment's pause; them slowly. hesitatin eyly.
/ il opened an inch, and through ina.
timid chink a white face looked out at
| her. Oh. so white and terrified Who
| could have ever believed Stanislas La
mfnskfs face, could grow in a moment so
| ened her to see il. But as for StanisIas
| himself, after a. seconds pause he be-
came suddenly calm; his color returned,
| and he burst out laughing. Ii was "a
| foolish laugh, such often comes upon
| one in the moment of reaction after a
passing terror. "Ho, it's you. then, dear
| little one?'' he cried, much relieved.
1 bundling something away hurriedly, and
| closing the cupboard door. You took
me by surprise. l thought 1t was the
| concierge, come to ask for my rent,
which hadn't got ready for him"
! Essie looked in his face, and knew he
was playing with her But her own self
| respect wouldn't allow her to say so to
| him. She only gave a glance of those
| innocent eyes, and asked him, earnestly:
'Stanislss, you must tell me! What had
| you just now on the stairs i'm that bas-
ket?"
He gazed at her once more with a ten
] der, yet hooking smile. my little one
he said, at was thus that Eve fell; you
have too much curiosity. Eggs, eggs, my
dear Essie; and | was afraid of breaking
/ - 9