Waterbury Democrat., 1901-05-11

1t. Do you hear?'
 sI hear colonel"
 The assent was perfectly tranquil and respectful. He was too good sol. dier not to render perfect obedience and keep perfect silence under any goad of provocation to break both.
 "Obey, thenr' said Chateauroy say agely. "Well, since you love heat so well, you shall take q flag of truce and my scroll to the Sidi Ilderim. But tell me first. what do you think of this capture?''
 Tt is not my place to give opinions, colonel"
 "Parbleu! It is your place when I bid you. Speak, or will have the stick cut the words out of youp'
 s'I may speak franklyT'
 ''Ten thousand curses, yes!' s'Then I think that those who make war on women are no longer fit to fight with men,"
 For moment the long, sinewy, mas l sive form of Chateauroy started from the skins on which he lay at full length l like lion starting from it's lair His veins swelled like black cords Under the mighty muscle of his bare chest his heart beat visibly in the fury of his wrath.
 By heaven, I have a mind to have you shot like dogr'
 The chasseur looked at him careless ly, composedly, but with serene def erence still, as due from q soldier to his chief
 You have threatened it before, colo nel It may be as well to do it, or the army may think you capricious."
 Chateauroy crushed a blasphemous oath through his clinched teeth and laughed certain short, stern, sardonic laugh, which his men dreaded more than his wrath.
 "No; I will send you instead to the khalifa. He often saves me the trouble of killing my own CUTS. Take a flag of truce and this paper, and never draw rein till you reach him, if your beast drop dead at the end"
 The chasseur saluted, took the paper. bowed with certain 1anguid, easy grace that camp life never cured him of and went. He knew that the man who should take the news of his treas ure's loss to the Emir Ilderim would, q thousand to one, perish by every torture desert cruelty could frame, despite the cover of the white banner.
 Chateauroy looked after him as he and his horse passed from the French camp In the full, burning tide of noon.
 sIf the Arabs kill him,'' he thought, q will forgive IIderim five seasons of rebellion"
 The chasseur, as he had been bidden, never drew rein across the scorching plateau. At last, ere he reached the Bedouin tents, he saw the sheik and party of horsemen returning from a foragfng quest and in ignorance as yet of the abduction of Djelma. He galloped straight to them and halted across their line Of march, with the folds of the little white flag futtering in the sun. The Bedouins drew bridle, and Ilderim advanced alone. He was magnificent man of middle age, with the noblest type of the eagle eyed aquiline desert beauty.
 A glance of recognition flashed from him on the soldier who had so often crossed swords with him, ahd, he waved back the scroll with dignified courtesy.
 Read it me"
 It was read. Bitterly, blackly, shame full, the few brutal words were. They netted him as an eagle is netted in 8 shepherds trap. , The moment that he gave sign of advancing the captive's life would pay the penalty; if he merely remained in arms, without direct attack, she would be made the marquis mistress and abandoned later to the army. The only terms on which he could have her restored were instant submission to the imperial rule and personal homage of himself and all his Djouad to the marquis, as the representative of France-homage in which they should confess themselves dogs and the sons Of dogs. So ran the message of peace.
 The chasseur read on to the end calmly. Then he lifted his gaze and looked at the emir. He expected 5G swords to be buried in his heart.
 With wild, shrill yell the Bedouins whirled their naked sabers above their hea6s and rushed down on the bearer of this shame to their chief and their tribe. The chasseur did not seek to defend himself He sat motionless. He thought the vengeance just.
 The sheik raised his sword and sign ed them back as he pointed to the white folds of the flag. Then his voice rolled out like thunder over the still ness of the plains:
 But that you trust yourself to my honor I would rend you limb from limb. Go back to the tiger who rules you and tell him that as Allah liveth will fall on him and smite him as he hath never been smitten. Dead or Iv- ing, I will have back my own. If he take her life. will have 10000 lives to answer it. If he deal her dishonor, will light such a holy war through the length and breadth of the land that his nation shall be driven backward like choked dogs into the sea and perish from the face of the earth for ever more. And this I swear by the law and the prephet"'
 The menace rolled out, imperious as a monarch's, thrilling through the des- ert hush. The chasseur bent his head as the words closed. His own teeth were tightly clinched, and his face was dark.