The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1894-03-16
always dancing like light in the blue

always dancing like light in the blue
depths of water drops.
Little by little. however, the charm Of
blue eyes wears of; that tender charm
in~terningled in his mind with the first
experiences of convalescence, its first
walks out Of doors and with the climate
Of France, SO soft and temperate. Ka-
dour has finally forgotten Katel. In the
whole Chelif valley nothing is talked Of
but his approaching marriage with va
nina, the daughter of the & Of Dzen-
del.
One morning a long line of mules
could be seen on the road leading to the
town. It is Kadonr. benz herifa, who is
going with his father to select the we'd
ding gifts. The whole day is spent in
the bazaars examining burnooses all shot
with silver, rich carpets from Smyrna,
amber necklaces and e~ardrops, and as he
handles all these pretty jewels. these
drifts Of silk and shimmering stuffs, Ka-
dour thinks only Of Yamina. The orient
has completely reconquered him. but
more from the force Of habit and the in
huence Of the place and surrounding OBJ
jects than by any bond Of the heart.
At the close Of the day the mules,
drawn up in line, laden with closely
packed hampers of 6nery, were descend
ing one Of the outer streets Of the town
when on approaching the Arabian Office
they were stopped bya crowd assembled
in the street. It was . band of emigrants
that had just arrived. AS nothing had
been made ready to receive them. the
poor things had come to the Office to
protest and question. The more dis
heartened remained seated on their
boxes, wearied from the journey, an
nOyed by the curiosity of the crowd, and
over all these exiled ones, like an addi-
tional touch Of sadness. sh0ne the rays
of the setting sun.
Night was coming on to make still
more wretched for them the mystery of
this unknown land and the discontinue
of their arrival. Kadour looked at them
mechanically. But all at once a deep
emotion arose in his heart. The cos
tunes of the old peasants, the velvet
bodices of the women, all those heads
the color of ripe wheat-and here his
dream takes actual shape; he has just
recognized the pretty features, the thick
braids and the smile of Katel. She is
there, a few PAGES from him, with the
old man Rupert, the mother and the lit
tie ones-all SO far away from their saw
mill and the Sauerbach that still runs by
the little abandoned home.
"Kadourl"
"Katel!'
He has become very pale; she has
blushed a little.
So, then, it is all arranged. The Caid's
house is large, and while waiting for a
piece of land to be allotted to them the
family will install themselves there.
Quickly the mother gathers together the
bundles scattered around her and calls
the little ones, who are already at play
with the stranger children. They are all
crammed into the hampers with the
stuffs, and Katel laughs with all her
heart to find herself so tall, seated high
up in the Arabian saddle.
Kadour laughs, too, less loudly though,
with a feeling of deep, contained happi-
ness. As night is coming ON and it is
cold, he envelops his companion in q
fine striped burnoose, which Grapes its
shimmering folds and fringes around
her. Motionless and straight in her lofty
seat, she looks like some blond Mussul-
man girl who has left her wells behind
her. Kadour thinks of it as he looks at
her. And then there come to him mad
ideas, a Thousand wild projects. Already
he has determined to release the aga's
daughter from her word to him.
He will marry Katel-no one but
Katel. Who knows2 Perhaps some day
they will again be returning thus from
the town-they two, alone in a lane Of
laurel roses, she laughing in her high
perch on the mule, he by her bride as
now. And feverish, deep in his dreams,
he starts to give the signal for departure.
but Katel stops him in her sweet voice:
mot yet-my husbands coming. We
must wait for him"
Katel was married. Poor Kadourl-
From the French Of A1phonse Daudet in
Short Stories.