Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1897-01-28
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member, not even Croisette, the
junior to Marie and myself-we were
twins-the time when we had not been
in love with her.
Bullet me explain how we four, whose
united ages scarce exceeded 70 years,
came to be Longing on the terrace in
the holiday stiffness of that after
noon. It was the summer of 1872. The
great peace, it will be remembered, be-
tween the Catholics and the Huguenots
had not long been declared; the peace
which in day or two was to be SOL
emnized, and, as most Frenchmen
hoped, to be cemented by the marriage
of Henry of Navarro with Margaret Of
Valois, the kings sister. Vicomte de
Caylus, GATHERINGS father and our
guardian, was one of the governors ap-
pointed to see the peace enforced; the
respect in which he was held by both
parties-he was a Catholic, but no
bigot, God rest his souli-recommel,ei
ing him for this employment. He had
therefore gone week or two before to
Bayonne. his province. Most of our
neighbors in Quercy were likewise from
home, having gone to Paris to be wit
nesses on one side or the other of the
royal wedding. And consequently we
young people, not greatly checked by
the presence of goOd-natured, sleepy
Nine. Claude, Catherine's duenna, were
disposed to make the most of our lib
erty and to celebrate the peace in our
own fashion.
We were country folk. Not one of us
had been to Pau, much less to Paris
The vicomte held strieter views than
were common then upon young peoples
education; and, though we had learned
10 ride and shoot, to use our swords and
toss hawk, and to read and write, we
knew little more than Catherine herself
of the world; little more of the pleas
ures and sins of court life, and not one
tenth as much as she did of it's graces.
Still, she had taught us to dance and
make bow. Her presence had softened
our manners; and of late we had gained
something from the frank companion
ships of Louis de Pavannes, a Huguenot
whom the vicomte had taken prisoner
at Moncontour and held to ransom. We
were not, think, mere clownish yokels.
But we were shy We disliked and
Stunned strangers. And when old Gil
chewing the melancholy cud of Kits
announcement, and cried sepulchrally:
an. lie Vidame de Beers to pay his re-
spects to ENTHUSIASTICALLY there
was something like panic, confess!
We scrambled to our feet, muttering:
THE Wolff" The entrance at Caylus
is by a ramp rising from the gateway TO
the level OF the terrace. This sunken
way is fenced by low walls SO that one
may not-when walking on the terrace
fall into it. Gil had spoken before his
head had well risen to view, and this
gave us moment, just moment.
Croisette made a rush for the doorway
into the house; but failed to gain it,
and drew himself UP behind a buttress
OF the tower, his finger on his lip. am
slow sometimes, and Marie waited for
me, SO that we had barely got to our
legs-looking, dare say, awkward and
ungainly enough-before the Vidames
shadow fell darkly on the ground at
GATHERINGS feet.
''MademoiselIe!'' he said, advancing
to her through the sunshine, and bend
ing over her slender hand with a mag
nificent grace that was born of his size
and manner combined, st rode in late
last night from Toulouse; and / go
tomorrow to Paris. / have but rested
and washed off the stains of travel that
L may lay ny-ah!"
He seemed to see us for the first time,
and negligently broke off in his compli-
ment; raising himself and saluting US.
"Ah," he continued, indolently, 1.-TWO of
the maidens of Caylus, see. With an
odd pair of hands apiece, unless I am
mistaken. Why do you not set them
spinning, mademoiselle?" and he re-
garded us with that smile which-with
other things as evil-had made him
famous.
Croisette pulled horrible faces behind
his back. We looked hotly at him; but
could find nothing to say.
you grow red!" he went On, pleas
| antly-the wretch!-playing with us
as cat does with mice. 1T ofends
your dignity, perhaps, that I bid
| nlademoiselle set you spinning? Inow
| would spin at mademoiselle's bidding,
and think it happiness!"
I'VE are not girls!" I blurted out,
with the flush and tremor OF a boys
| passion. you had not called my god
father, Anne de Montmorenci, n girl,
N. lie Vidame," For though we counted
it joke among ourselves that we all
bore girls names we were Young