Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1901-10-19
The House Of The Wolf,,,,,,s|
BY STANLEY j. WEYMAN \

fered most, M. de panvannes. AS It Is.
take your life-a giftl and suffer az
should If / were saved n spared by
my enemy!"
Slowly the full sense of his words
came home to me. Slowly; not in its
full completeness, indeed, until l heard
Louis In broken phrases, phrases half
proud and half humble, thanking him
for his generosity. Even then ] almost
lost the true and wondrous meaning
of the thing when l heard his answer.
For he cut Pavannes short with bitter,
caustic gibes, spurned his proffered
gratitude with insults n replied TO
his acknowledgements with threats.
go! go!'' he continued to cry vio-
lently. Have l brought o so far
safely that you will cheat me of my
vengeance at the last, and provoke me
to XIII yoa? Away! and take these
blind puppies with yod! Reckon me as
much your enemy now as ever! And
II l meet you, be sure you will meet a
foe! Begone, NJ. de Pavannes' be-
gone."
But, NJ. de Beers Louis persisted,
hear me. 1t takes two to"
''Begene! begonel before we do one
another q mischief" cried the vidame,
~furiously. Every word you say IN
that strain is an injury to me. 1t robs
me of my vengeance Col In COOS
namel"
And we went on: for there was 10
change, no promise of softening in his
malignant aspect as he spoke; nor any
as he stood and watched us draw on
slowly from him. We went one by one
each lingering after the other, striving,
out of a natural desire to thank him,
to break through that stern reserve.
But grim and unrelenting, a picture or
scorn to the last, he saw us go.
NJ 1a1AAt .,AaNAr& nf fhnt Ctrn n on
man-still fresh after a lapse of two
and fifty years-is Of a huge form tow
ering in the gloom below the state
canopy, the sunlight which poured In
through the windows and flooded us,
falling short of him: of a pair OF fierce
cross eyes, that seemed to glow as they
covered us; Of O lip that curled as in
the enjoyment of some cruel Jest. And
so land l think each of us four
saw the last OF Raoul de Mar, Vidame
de Beers in this life.
He was a man whom we cannot d
by today's standard; for he was such
an one in his vices and his virtues as
the present day does not know; n
who in his time did immense evil
and If his friends be believed, little
good. But the evil is forgotten; the
good lives. And If all that good save
one act were buried with him, that one
act alone, the act of a French gentle
man, would be told or him-ay! and
will be tobias long as the kingdom
of France, and the gracious memory
of the late king, shall endure.
I see again by the simple process OF
shutting my eyes, the little party OF
fYe-for Jean, our s~erVant, had re-
Joined us-who on that summer day
ode over the hills to Caylus, threading
the mazes of the holm-oaks, n gallop-
ing down the rides and hallooing the
hare from her form, but never pur-
suing her; arousing the nesting farm
houses from their sleepy stiffness by
joyous shout and laugh, and shifting,
as we climbed the hillside again, the
scent of the ferns that died crushed
under our horses hoofs-died only that
they might add one little pleasure more
to the happiness God had given us.
Rare and sweet indeed are those few
days in life, when 1t seems that all
creation lives only that we may have
pleasure in it, and thank God for it.
1t is we'll hat we should make the
most of them, as we surely did of that
day.
1t was nightfall when we reached the
edge of the uplands, and looked down
on Caylus. The last rays of the sun
fingered with us, out the valley below
was dark! so dark that ven the rock
about which our homes clustered
would have been invisible save for the
half dozen lights that were beginning
to twinkle into being on it's summit.
A silence fell upon us as We slowly
wendell our way down the well known
path.
Now with the nightfall M the dark
ness, now when we were near our home
and on the eve of giving joy to another,
we grew silent. There arose other
thoughts-thoughts of all that had
happened since we had last assembled
that track; n so u minds turned
naturally back to him to whom VIC
owed our happiness-to the giant left
behind in his pride and power and his
loneliness. The others could think of
him with full hearts, yet without
shame. But / Redeemed, rejecting how
It would have been with us if / had had
my way; if / had reSorted in my short
sightedness 10 one last violent, coward
ly deed, and killed him, as l had twice
wished to do.
Pavannes would Their have been lost
almost certainly. Only the vidame with
his powerful troop-we never knew
whether he had gathered them for that
purpose or merely with an eye to his
government-could have saved him.
And few men however powerful-per-
haps Beers only of all men In Paris
would have dared to snatch him from
the mob when once it had sighted him..
| dwell on this now that my grandchil-
dren may take warning by it, though
never will they see such days as / have
seen.
And so we clattered up the steep
street of Caylus with q pleasant melap-
choly upon us and passed, not without
a moro serious thn,Ioht The r1npnoN
frowning portals, all barred and shut
tered, of the House Of the Wolf, and
under the very window, somber and va
can't, from which Beers had melted the
rGbble in their attack on Pavannes'
courier. We had gone by day, and we
came back by night. But we had gone
trembling, and we came back with joy.
We did not need to ring the great
bell. jeans cry:"Ho! Gate there! Open
for my lords!" had scarcely passed his
lips before we were admitted. And ere
we could the ramp, n person
outran those who came forth to see
what the matter was; one outran Nine.
Claude, outran old Gil, outran the hur-
rying servants n the welcome of the
house. l saw a slender figure all in
white break away from the little crowd
and dart towards us, disclosing as II
reached me a ACE hat seemed still
whittier than it's robes, and yet a face
seemed all eyes-eyes that asked
the question the lips could not frame.
/ stood aside with a low bow, my hat
In my hand; and said simply-it was
the great effect Of my life: VOLTA, mon
sieur!"
And then 1 saw the sun rise in a wo-
mans face.
The vidame de Beers died as he had
lived. He was still governor Of Cahors
when Henry the Great attacked it on
the night of the 18th of June, 1880.
Taken by surprise and wounded In the
first confusion of the assault, he still
defended himself and his charge with
desperate courage, fighting from street
to street, and house to house for five
nights and as many days. While he