Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1901-09-14
CHAPTER TX.
THE HEAD OF ERASMUS.

plumber, rained blows increasingly on
hinge and socket; and still hotter and
faster, through a dozen riffs in the
timbers, came the fire of their threats
and curses. Many grew tired, but others
replaced them. Tools broke, but they
brought more and worked with savage
energy. They had shown at first a
measure Of prudence; looking to be
fired on, and to be resisted by men, sur
prised. indeed. but desperate; and the
holder OF them only had advanced. But
now they pressed around unchecked,
meeting no resistance. They would
scarcely stand back to let the sledges
have swing; but hallooed and ran In or
the creaking beams and beat them
with their fists whenever the gates
swayed under a blow.
One stout iron bar still held it's place.
And this 1 watched as II fascinated. 1
was alone in the empty courtyard.
standing q little aside, sheltered by one
OF h stone pillars from which the
gates hung. Behind me the door of the
house stood ajar. Candles, which the
daylight rendered garish, still burned
In the rooms on the first floor, OF which
The tall narrow windows were open. on
the wide stone sill OF one OF these stood
Croisette. a boyish figure. looking
silently down at me his hand on the
latticed shutter. He looked pale, and 1
nodded and smiled at him. l felt rather
anger than fear myself; remembering,
as the fiendish cries half-deafened me,
old tales of the Jacquerie and Its doings
n how we had trodden 1t out.
Suddenly the din and tumult flashed
to O louder note: as when hounds on
the scene give tongue at sight. /
turned quickly from the house, recalled
to a sense OF position and peril. The
iron bar was yielding to the pressure.
Slowly the left wing of the gate was
sinking inwards. Through the widen
ing chasm 1 caught a glimpse OF wild,
grimy faces n bloodshot eyes, and
heard above the noise a sharp cry
from Croisette-a cry of terror. Then l
turned and ran, with a defiant gesture
and an answering yell, right across
the forecourt and up the steps to the
door.
I ran the faster for the sharp report
OF a pistol behind me, and the whirr Of
q ball past my ear. But / was not
scared by 1t: and as my feet alighted
with q bound on the topmost step, l
glanced back. The dogs were halfway
across the u L made a bungling
attempt to shut and lock the great
door-failed in this: and heard behind
me a roar Of coarse triumph. 1 waited
for no more. / darted up the oak stair
case, four steps at q time, and rushed
into the great drawing-room on my left
banging the door behind me.
The one splendid room was In a state
Of strange disorder. Some OF the rich
tapestry had been hastily torn down.
One window was closed and shattered;
no doubt Croisette had done It. The
other two were open-as If there had
not been time to close them-and the
cold light which they admitted con-
trasted In CHASTITY fashion with the yell
low rays Of candles still burning In the
sconces. The furniture had been hud-
died aside or piled into a barricade, q
hevaux de frise OF chairs and tables
stretching across the width Of the
ROOM, its interstices stuffed with, and
Its weakness partly screened by, the
torn-down hangings. Behind his frall
defense, their backs to n loon which
seemed to lead to an inner room, stood
Marie n Croisette, pale and defiant.
The former had a long pike; the latter
leveled a heavy, bell-mounted argue
buse across the back OF a chair, and
blew UP his match as 1 entered. Both
a In addition swords. / darted like
n rabbit through a little tunnel left on
purpose for me in the rampant, and
took my stand by them.
rs all right?" calculated Croisette,
turning to me n~ervously.
"All right, l think" 1 answered. l
was breathless.
you are not hurt?"
Not touched"
l had just time to draw my sword be-
fore the assailants streamed into the
room, a dozen rufiians, reeking and
tattered, with flushed faces and
greedy, staring eyes. Once inside,
however, suddenly-so suddenly that
an idle spectator might have found the
change ludicrous-they came to a stop.
Wild cries ceased, and tumbling
over one another with curses and oaths
they halted, surveying us In muddled
surprise; seeing what was before
them, and not liking it. Their leader
appeared to be a tall butcher, with a
pole-ax on his half-naked shoulder;
but there were among them two or
three soldiers In the royal livery and
carrying pixies. They had looked for
victims only, having met with no re-
sistance at the gate, and the foremost
recoiled now on finding themselves
confronted by the muzzle of the argue
buse and the lighted match.
l seized the occasion. / knew, in
deed, that the pause presented our only
chance, and l sprang on a chat and
waved my hand for silence. The in
stinct of obedience for the momen as
itself; there was a stiffness in
the room.
"Beware!" i cried, loudly-as loudly
and confidently as / could, considering
that there was a quaver at my heart
as / looked on those savage faces.
which met and yet avoided my eye.
Beware Of what you do! We are Ca
tholics one and all like yourselves, and
good sons of the church. Ay, and good
subjects, too! Vive lie roi, gentlemen!
God save the king! 1 say" And I
the barricade with my sword
until the metal rang again. God save
the king!"
Cry Vive la Messed" shouted one.
Certainly, gentlemen" / replied,
with politeness. with all my heart.
la Messe! Vive la Messe!"
This took the butcher, who luckily.
was still sober, utterly aback. He had
never thought Of this. He stared at us
as IL the OK he had been about to fell
had opened It's mouth and spoken, and,
at a loss, he looked for help
TIC his companions.
Later in the day, some Catholics
were killed by the mob. But their
as far as could be learned after
wards were due to private feuds. Save
in such cases-and they were few-the
cry Of Vive la Messe! always obtained
at least a respite; more easily, of course
In the earlier hours OF the morning.
when the mob were scarce at ease In
their liberty to kill, while killing still
murder, and men were not yet
drunk with bloodshed.
/ read the hesitation of the gang in
their faces; and when one asked rough
ly who We We're, / replied with greater
holiness: Il am Anne de Caylus.
nephew of the Vicomte de Caylus, gov
ernor, under the king, Of Bayonne and
the Landes!" This L said with what
majesty / could. And these"-I con-
tinued-"are my brothers. You will
harm us at your peril, gentlemen. The
vicomte, believe me, will avenge every
hair Of our heads"
1 can hut my eyes now and see the
stupid wonder, the baked ferocity of
those gaping faces. Dull and savage