Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1897-09-23

! l saw Catherine SILVER; indeed. She
was ON the point Of fainting ! broke
ii rudely. my passion getting the better
( of my fears. M. de Pavannes can take
care of himself, believe me" l said,
brusquely.
Perhaps so, Beers answered, his
voice like the grating of steel on steel
but at any rate this viii be a memoir
able day for mademoiselle. The day on
which she receives her first congratula-
tions.-she will remember it as long as
she lives! Oh, yes, l viii answer for
that, NJ. Anne" he said. looking bright
~ at one and another of US. his eyes
more oblique than ever. ''mademoiselle
viii remember it. am surei''
1t would be impossible TO describe the
devilish glance he flung at the poor sink
ing girl as he withdrew, the horrid en-
phasis he threw into those last words
the covert deadly threat they conveyed
10 the dullest ears. That he went then
was small mercy. He had done all the
evil he could do at present. If his de-
sire had been TO leave fear behind him,
he had certainly succeeded.
Kit, crying softly, went into the
house; her innocent coquetry more
than sufficiently punished already. And
we three looked at one another with
blank faces. 1t was clear that we had
made dangerous enemy, and an enemy
at our own gates. AS the vidame had
said, these were troublous times when
things were done to men-ay, and to
women and children-which we scarce
dare to speak of now. II wish the Vi
comte were here" Croisette said, I'M
easily, after we had discussed several
unpleasant contingencies.
''Or even Malines, the steward"
suggested.
HE would not be much good" re-
piled Croisette. "And he is at St. An
tonin, and will not be back this week
Father Pierre, too, is at Abb"
''You do not think" said Marie,
"that be will attack us?"
Certainly not!" Croisette retorted,
with contempt. Even the vidame
would not dare to do that in time of
peace. Besides, he has not half score
of men here" continued the lad, shrewd-
ly, land counting old Gil and ourselves
we have as many. And Pavannes always
said that three men could hold the gate
at the bottom of the ramp against a
score. Oh, he will not try thatl"
Certainly not" agreed. And so we
crushed Marie. "But for Louis de Pa
vannes-"
Catherine interrupted me. She came
out quickly, looking different person.;
her face flushed with anger, her tears
dried.
"Anne!" she cried, imperiously,
what is the matter down below-will
you see?''
had no difficulty in doing that. All
the sounds of town life came up to us
on the terrace. Lounging there we
could hear the chaffering over the
wheat measures in the cloisters of the
market square, the yell of dog, the
voice of scold, the church bell, the
watchman's cry. had only to step
to the wall to overlook 1t ell. On this
summer afternoon the town had been
for the most part very quiet. If we had
not been engaged In our own affairs
we should have taken the alarm before,
rernarking in the silence the first be-
ginnings of what was now very re-
spectacle tumult. 1t swelled louder
even as we stepped to the wall.
We could sea bend In the street
laying it open-part of the vidame's
house; the gloomy square hold which
had come to him from his mother. His
own chateau of Beers lay far away
in Franche Comte, but of late he had
shown a MISUNDERSTANDING could
best account for it, perhaps-for this
mean house in Caylus. 1t was the only
house in the town which did not be-
long to us. 1t was known as theHouse
of the Wolf, and was grim stone
building surrounding courtyard.
Rows of wolves heads carved In stone
f1anked the windows, whence their bare
fangs grinned day and night at the
church porch opposite.
The noise drew our eyes In this d.
rection; and there, lolling in a window
over the door, looking out on the
street with laughing eye, was Beers
himself. The cause of his merriment
we had not far to look for twas
horseman who WAS riding up the
street under difficulties. He was rein
ing in his steed-no easy task ON that
steep, greasy pavement--so as TO pre-
sent some front TO a score or SO Of
ragged knaves who were following
close at his heels, hooting and throw
ing mud and pebbles at him. The man
had drawn his sword, and his oaths
came up to us, mingled with shrin cries
of "Vive la messed" and half-drowned
by the gathering of the horses' hoofs.
We saw a stone strike him in the face,
and draw blood, and heard him swear
louder than before.
"Oh!" cried Catherine, clasping her
hands with sudden shrek of indig-
nation, my letter! They will get my
letter."
Death" exclaimed Croisette. ''She
is right! 1t is NJ. de Pavannes' courierI
This must be stopped! We cannot
stand this, Anne!"