Evening star., 1896-11-28

pompous burgher dwindled in six weeks TO
a lean and morose old tyrant. Withal he
had no choice, for at his shoulder lurked
the French commandant a resolute man
with a grim wit of his own and pet cur
tain-between the stadthaus bastion and
the baStion of the Bronze House. and very
handy to the former-whereat he shot de-
Serters and the like on the smallest pre-
text.
Still the burgomaster, as he wiped his
Sallow face. and watched the last of the
women withdraw ON the seventh Sunday
of the siege, began to think that, rather
than pass through this again, he would
face even the curtain and a volley. The
ordeal had been more severe than usual:
his cheek still twitched, and he leaned
against his official table to belle his trem-
bling knees. He had been settling change
of billets when the viragos broke in on
him. and only his clerk had been present;
for his council-dnd this rub he felt sorely
much bulied in old days. were treating
him to solitude now and the monopoly of
the burden. His clerk was still with him,
but affected to be busy with the papers
on the table-perhaps he was scared, too
and equally bent on hiding it; so it was
the burgomaster himself who first dis
covered that they were not in fact alone
but that one woman still fingered. She sat
in corner of the oak seat that ran round
the paneled room, and the stained glass
of the windows, blaZoned with the arms of
Huymonde and the Counts of Flanders.
cast veil of tawny lights between her and
the gazer, veil behind which she seemed
to lurk- The burgomaster started, then re-
membered that the danger was over for
the time, and in a harsh voice bade her
follow her mates.
"Begone. wench,'' he said. "And go to
your prayers. That is women's work. Leave
these things to men,"
The woman rose when men" she an
sWered, in a strident voice at which the
burgomaster started afresh, hide them
selves 1t is time women stood forward
Where is your son?"
The burgomaSter swore.
peated firmly.
The burgomaster swose again. his sal
low face grown purple; then looked at his
clerk and signed to him to go. The clerk
went wondering and gaping-for this was
unusual-and left the two together
you Jezebel!' he cried, passionately. an.
preaching the woman How dare Won
come here to make mischief? How dare
you lay your tongue to my sons name? Do
to" >"' IL were
But at that the woman caught fire. blazed
up and fairly outdid him in rage. She vas
Iiiddie-aged and spare. with face natural
ly pale and refined, and an air of pride that
peered even through the neat poverty of
her dress: But at THAI word she shook her
hesds in his face: and her eyes blazed
shameful, and through whom? Thro,ah
your son. your villain. your craven Of a
son, who hides now! Through your base
Ooin udueShan OF son, who dare face
nelther woman nor man"
Shence! the burgomaster cried.
she flung up her hands. "Bewarer,
sne cried. wildly, and for the first time
raised her voice. Beware! You and vonrs
nave brought US to shame, but the end is
not yet The end Is not yet You do moi
know u.s." w nos
1t was not their first interview. She had
plead with hin. before, had knelt and went
and abased herself before him, had done
all that the love that tore her heart strings
the love that made 1t so much more diff,
cult to see her child suffer than to surfer
herself. the love that every moment paint
ed the bare room at home and her dau9h
ter prostrate there In shame and despair-
she had done all that even that love could
suggest. There was no room here for f,,r-
ther pleading; and she had threatened-and
failed. What then remained to be done9
Nothing. the burgomaster thought. an in
q flush Of triumph and relief he watched
her go. outfaced and defeated. Nothine.
and he hugged himself on the prudence that
had dispatched his son out Of the way in
time. and rendered a match with that nrond
pauper brat impossible. Nothing; but to
the woman. as she went, 1t seemed that
everything. everything, was yet to be done
As she left the little square and plunged