Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1896-06-17
A CREOLE ROMANCE.

1t was DRILLING, and the banquette was
OVERLAND with black slush which seemed
to ooze from the very paving stones. The
girl standing on the corner-her slim,
white gowned figure softly outlined
against the pink stucco of the wall behind
her-appeared curiously at variance with
the November afternoon gloom. The sim
gle passenger in street car crawling past
glanced out at her with momentary
CLEAN of interest "She looks like bay
gu lily" he murmured returning to his
evening paper.
There is nothing earthly which can
compare for whiteness with the bayou lily
-hovering above the dark marsh like
tethered soul, pure, spotless, radiant, ex-
haling an innocent perfume, its flexible
stem rooted far below in the slime.
The drizzle became a downpour, and
the few pedestrians scurried into shelter,
leaving the narrow street quite deserted.
The girl drew little farther under the
high, projecting balcony, with it's wrought
iron balustrade. Her white gown. slightly
open at the throat, as If designed for in
doors, was drenched with the wind blown
rain, though, by some miracle, the hem
remained unsmirched by the ooze beneath
her feet. She was very young. The del
icate, almost chi]dlike face beneath her
round hat was pale. Her violet eyes had
strained, expectant look. She leaned
against the wall Of the old building, trem-
bling, as If frightened or overfatigued.
The heavy batten shutters were flung
back. Their enormous bolts turned ashanti.
The inner doors, whose upper halves were
composed of fancifully shaped panes of
ground glass, were closed
On the same spot-christened by some
dead and gone wag the corner of Alb
smith and Anisette-stood, in the year
Of our Lord eighteen hundred and thir-
teen, the self same building. 1t was even
then more than quarter of a century old,
and conspicuous landmark in its isolated
situation, few low habitations only
clustering between it and the outlying
swamps, and but a thin scattering of
houses stretching down to the river. The
steep roof of the single squat story was
tiled. A long arm thrust out from the
caves held lantern over the muddy, I'M
paved street. 1t was a cabaret then as
now, and then, as now, famous for its
"green hours"
Its rough outer wall one morning in the
autumn of that year was adorned with a
large printed poster, which set forth in
the three languages then current in the
old town on the Mississippi the misdeeds
of one Jean Latitte, smuggler, marauder,
desperate and pirate, and offered in the
name of his excellenoy Governor Clai-
borne reward of $500 for the capture Of
the said Jean Lafitte and his delivery into
the hands of justice.
The laughing eyes of a knot of ''appa-
rent idlers on the wooden banquette were
turned alternately from this placard to the
tall, handsome man-no less a person than
Jean Lafitte himself-who leaned against
the wall, the long curling locks of his hair
blown against the signature Of his Qate
professionally excellency. But there were
covert flashes of malign intelligence in
some Of the laughing eyes, and an imper-
ceptible movement of the crowd toward
the batten door at the outlaw right hand.
His own glances, as he banded jests with
the leaders, toying the while with the
fringed end of his green silk sash, went
warily about. He knew himself to be in
danger of arrest. He might indeed pay
with his life for his seeming bravadO. But
he was not thinking of himself. His ear
was strained to catch the slightest sound
within the cabaret where Henri Destrehan
was blithely quaffing his glass of alb
smith, unaware that his enemies, sworn
to butcher him like rat in trap, were
closing upon him.
1t was the knowledge of his friends i'm
pending peril which had drawn the pirate
chief from his lagoon Businesses.
Chow about that last bale of Struggled
silk brocade, Lafltte?" demanded a
brawny, dark browed man lightly, edging
nearer to the wall as he spoke.
"Sold at $40 the yard, for the waistcoats
Of his excellency the GOVERNOR returned
Lafltte in the same tone.
"And the gold chain captured on the
high seas from his grace the Mexican
bishop" laughed another.
Sold off in inches for the repose of his
grace's SOUL"
He had dropped the end Of his sash.
His hand as he spoke was OH the door.
bursting into the dimly lighted cabaret
And catching the bewildered young Officer
into the sweep Of his powerful arm, he
lifted him from the floor, bore him through
the very midst of his enemies, turned the
corner with the leaping speed of stag,
and disappeared behind clulnp of cabins
in the direction Of the swamp. A howl Of
rage and volley Of shot from the baffled
plotters followed the fugitives, but they
were already safe from pursuit.
A few days later Destrehan was about
starting OH his roundabout journey te
France. A pirogue, dancing on the breast
| of the sinuous bayou which led away from
the outlaws stronghold at Barrataria,
awaited him with It's 1.-the dark skinned
| peddler. "If ever Destrehan' these
| were his parting words to Lafitte, with O
| warm hand clasp-"if ever Destrehan
| fails Lafitte in the hour Of need, may his
soul die and his bones rot unburied."
Leonle Destran, apparently unconscious
of the rain which continued to fall, was
waiting still. The pallor Of her delicate
| face had increased. She moved nearer to
| the closed door Of the cabaret.
Within there was drowsy silence. The
| fat, baldheaded proprietor was nodding
over an outworn copy Of La Mouche. II
was midway between early and late hours
| of the staid and respectable habitues who
came with the regularity Of uninpeachable
clocks every day at noon and every day
before setting toward their late dinners
| The floor had been resanded since noon
and swept into fresh geometrioal figures,
and the old fashioned wooden bar with its
simple fixtures was In readiness for the
o'clock customers.
There was, however, single patron who