The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-05-01
THE STROKE OF RUIN.

1t was moonlight and rather late In the
balmy evening, with a breeze fluttering
along Royal street, and the sound of a
guitar coming from an indefinite distance.
No street cars were running and but few
trcllers-thes mostly creoles in h~igh-heeled
shoes tapping lightly on the banquettes-
| went up and down the narrow way.
Boyle Harding leaned back in an easy
chair on the iron-railed balcony, or gallery,
which overhung the sidewalk, and smoked
slowly, with half-closed eyes. He was await
ing and expecting the arrival of his young
friend, Francois Rapin, who had lately in
terested him to a singular degree.
Even at the moment, up the unexpected
stairway came the active creole's feet, two
steps at a time, along with a lively tune
sung almost breathlessly through a curv-
ing black mustache.
'Ah, but here 1 am" he cried issuing
through the doorway and tripping Il gay
step along the floor toward Harding.
well; and what is it?" demanded the
New Yorker. What have you found out?'
'Bahl' He produced a cigarette and
! asked for a light by an inimitable panto-
mime with heads and shoulders. Maybe
she went to the French opera. Go with me;
/! 1 have a box; come"
Blu haven't you yet seen herr"
C66Q uSE-lOW SllOulu 4 hilO oAASh
Harding forgets the conditions" He
laughed in his atrociously frivolous French
way.
II beg pardon said Harding. quickly; 1
had, indeed, forgotten that 1 did not know
her name, her place of residence, nor yet
even the color of her eyes. Yes, | will go
with you to the opera. Everybody goes, eh?"
Not everybody; but everybody of the
best. 1t is the distinctions; we draw the line
in front of the boxes"
mot the dead line, L hope"
Even that sometimes; yes. L have known
a glance. of sweet eyes to cost IL man his
best blood under the oaks, Are you a good
fencer?"
Boyle Harding made no answer, but flung
lis cigar stump over the iron filagree down
into the street, where it coruscated on the
cobblestones, and then he rose and shook
himself lightly as one does who forms an
imperfect plan or feels vaguely impatient
over delayed expectations.
The sky above New Orleans was as blue
as a sapphire, and the irregular old houses
along Royal street caught many q stray
CLINT from the splendid moon. Harding was
IN a mood to feel all the force or Such a
scene. lie had come South a fortnight past
with letters of introduction to influential
DUET sojourn in New Orleans with his eyes
and ears open suited him better, lie was
Young, however, Drlm1ul OF DlOOu anu sur
charged with a poets imagination.
What was, perhaps, just the thing he
would have most desired came to MN uneX-
pectedly one day. 1t was a twinkle OF ro-
nance in the gloom of Royal street. lie
suddenly met a beautiful young woman
face to race at the door of Garcin'S ola DOCK
store, a dingy hole where you find the con-
tents of French libraries that nave Deen
sold at successive sales or picked up at
auction. Warm eyes exchanged an 1nVol-
untarv look which seemed to have a glow of
inquiry struck out of iris points, Hard,
ing was electrified, and impulsiVely Htted
his hat. She passed him with a half smile
leaving a breath of violets and the rustic OF
] q. gown quietly elegant in the air rouhd
about. -.
of her eyes, her compleXion-he could not
fix one of these in his mind, but ne knew
that she was the loveliest, tne n10sI Tn-
preston entered his CONSCIOUSNESS SO SUD-
denly and set itself so deep and with such
a thrill of romantic pleasure that he stopped
short in the door. and stood there, hat in
hand. smiling reminiscently and listening
to the purr of his own blood sweetly quick
ening along his veins.
A FOYER is a great fool; but he is the only
man who knows what song II was thae
the stars sang; and to him you must go II
you would learn the secret of heavenly
happiness and the value of dreams as nutrl-
ment for the imagination. A lovers soul
will trouble its stature by teedlng one ITO
ment on a smile. t
In fact Boyle Harding, had felt this sud
den growth within; 1t mad quickeneo' Droau-
ened and sweetened his spiritual VISION,
while afrording a fine and richly mysterious
increment to his enjoyment OF his new sur
roundings.
This was midway in the fifties, when New
Orleans had reached the splendid zenith OF
her wealth, and when the peculiar color or
her social life was most dazzling and 70,
mantle. AS an American city she stood
apart, a hot, almost tropical, heart OF pas
sion, luxury, pleasure and Astounding hos
p;taiity. And with it all went the old free
dom of chivalric personal courage and the
love of spectacular results IN matters OF
honor.
Harding and his young creole friend set
out on foot, it was but a short step to the
opera house, and as they went along Kalph
was prattling on the subject of fencing, al
ways a great vogue with the Jeunesse doree
of New Orleans. He was himself a rich
orphan, living upon an almost unlimited in
come. and had long been a confirmed
habitue of the fencing halls. Having seen
some rapiers and foils in Harding's rooms
he was saying:
B you must be- interested in sword
play-in fencing. 1t is the noblest of all the
i Sxeso is grd for gen made up f aRq it: S9YH You p must
be a master, or you could be-"
Il have had good masters" Harding re-
piled in an evasive tone, but l am losing
Your masters were in New York?'
mo; Paris. I had M. Duval for three
m. Duval! You had M. Charles Duval
for three years?"
"Ah, what fortune! He. and he only,
pjerceS across from shoulder to shoulder,
disabling the victim for life, yet never kill
ing him." Rapin spoke enthusiastically, and
after a moments pause added almost
breathlessly:
and YOU learned his stroke! Oh, but I
am o~verjoyed: and you will teach me to do
it? All, monsieur, l shall be your lifelong
debtor. / have dreamed of that incompara-
bic thrust; l have made two journeys to
Paris to learn it; but, you must know, M.
Duval is an ancient enemy of my fathers.
l could not go to him, and his pupils are SO
few and so, so, SO distinguished and ex-
elusive that 1 could not reach one of them"
and told him pleasantly that he should be
glad TO give him the secret instruction.
Thereupon Rapin almost Rugged him, and
they were just entering the opera house.
A great curve of splendor, a flash of faces,
throats,- boSomS. jewels, laces. eyes, fanS-a
bewildering horizon of corSageS, coiffureS,
necklaces, bracelets, rings; a foam of airy
| gowns sinking and swelling gently, like
surf-froth against a beach of fairyland.
Harding gazed in half-blinded stupidity. SO
he felt, and could see no details, could make
struck him as some vast spectacle of bar
barous ew-ga splendor, and yet nothing
that he had ever seen could compare with
it in unity Of effect. The boxes were all
| full, and of beauty and queenly costume, so
accumulated that nowhere else could such
| insistences upon decoration have been toler-
able. There, however, it was the perfection
of color, grace, brilliance and condensed,
passionate beauty of expression such as the
Greeks of Alexandria dreamed of in their
| luxurious exhibitions.
Harding and Rapin We're the only persons
in their box, which was well to one side of
| the great curve. On the stage a celebrated