Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1900-08-16
TASCA.
Alexander Basilwski looked moodil,

white mantle, hiding its angularties
and crudities, and presenting only
smooth, unbroken surface TO the glow
ing skies above. In the streets below
numbers Of figures like puppets in
show ran TO and fro in the mad strife
of living. Altar off in the distance
scintillated many groups of electric
balls hang from high towers. This
was st. Petersburg and mid-winter.
He tapped idly upon the pane OF
glass with his long, tapering fingers.
and as he beat out in an impatient tat
too a rhythmic Slavonic melody, his
mind was actively intent upon other
surroundings than this.
How he hated st. Petersburg and
winter, How he hated wealth and des-
potic fathers. Why should he not have
been free, like those young English
men with whom he had spent six
months of his last year. They were all
younger sons, every one of them. Pen
niless and happy, they herded cattle
on the Pacific slope of North America.
How freely she came among them
fearlessly, innocently, with her clean
limbed pony, her bright eyes and her
red rebosso-Tasca, the boys called
her, but what her name really was
strange that he never had thought to
ask
They would meet afar down the
lonely prairie and sit amid the sage
bushes while their ponies grazed near
by, and gazing at each other in SUI
preme contentment, they needed not
words to express the joy, the rapture,
Of living.
Again he saw the deep red glow OF
the sun on that last evening together
Again he marked her sloe black eyes
the long, straight lashes, the curled
crimson lip, and his eyes followed tho
straight fold of her short black serge
shirt, where the little foot with its
high Spanish instep peeped temptingly
forth. They had told him that mixed
with the mild Aztec strain in Tasca' 5
veins ran the vigorous and vengeful
blood of the Spanish invader All, lit
tie he knew or cared what race called
her its own. what her family, what hel
kind. Suffice it, he loved her.
That last night love held him slave.
His tattooing came to a violent and in
harmonious end, and broke in a series
of wild disconnected chords that fell
on the stiffness OF the luxurious apart
ment like the wall of lost soul wand
ering in purgatorial depths. He start
ed-that wall was so real-then vici-
ously bit at his 'old Virginia cheroot,
the last of a quantity carried over from
America to this accursed land.
At the late hour OF that last night.
The pale moon on the wane-the warm
air-the cattle taking their rest in the
corral hard blythe white light on the
sage bushes and-Tascai He swore
that. come veal or come woe, she was
his wife, his only!
Only that afternoon they had ridden
miles across country TO the little padre
in the mission church-she would have
it thus-the PADRES blessing they must
have. He swore that nothing in heav-
en- or on earth could make him prove
untrue. Even hell itself could not keep
him from her; and he left her to re-
turn home at the bidding of his father
IlOM ipuS d6O IlAtAL W a.. 4Nlllt lOuS
dreary months. The first three spent
at the bedside of a fretful, querulous
father, never daring to tax of Amer
lea. lest it should send him into one
of those frightful paroxysms of rage
which had overcome him for the first
time on the morning when he, Alexan-
der, essayed to speak of Tasca.
HCYvco xrOufp fpaY1a1 rho ON.
fernal whelp Of an internal dam, thou
shalt marry Alexandra Alexovltch
whose mother l have ever loved!"
mot the daughter Of that aceurset
rival of my mother.
Il want nothing. father. Let me re
turT TO America. but be kind to my
mother
Elizabeth Alexovitch shall take hei
place if thou, my lawful son. defy me.
And choking, he fell in hideous con
WILSON'S
God permitted that tyrant to live
They were decorating the chape
near by The good father had sent t
his gold mines in Siberia for treasure.
and gold; silver, malacnlte and pre-
cious jewels bedecked the altar, ready
for the bridal tomorrow.
The women are busy in another par
OF the house; the pale mother listless
ly doing that in which she had M
heart. her rival, radiant and domineer
ing, dominating all things; the IA
general wheezy and overbearing, sub
hitting everything TO the judgment o
Elizabeth Alexovitch and the pale
blonde Alexandra bemoaning her hear
out for love Of Paul Demidof-all un
happy because of one. nay. two selisl
natures.
He mad not touched the window-ye
that cry--that broken chord = tina
wall! A child's voice and-Tasca's
Yes, she was before him now. TIL,
short black skirt, the red robosso, tn,
curved lips, but God! how white, hov
worn. how wearied she lookedl VIVA
was IL she held out to him? A bab
his babe-ah, thank God, they hat
come! The little Virgin in the chape
should have an apron full of golt
pieces.
"Tascai" he called and grasDed-aiT