The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1901-03-07

hers. Seeing that they would not stay,
Logs. hurriedly adjusting his argue
bus, fred upon them. Now, whether
1t was that his aim, being without a
staff on which to rest his heavy argue
bus, was unsteady or whether he did
this horrible thing with full intent, l
do not know. but the ball sped straight
at the slender, muffled woman shape
between the two men. She flung out
her two hands and fell without cry.
The blood hot in me, l ran back to
Logs and sprang upon him, forcing
him to the ground under my knee,
while 1 felt for my dagger. Excited
as 1 was, / could not find 1t, so l had
to strangle him with my hands, he CUR
Cling horribly and jerking out his arms
vainly to reach his sword. But am a
wiry man, and 1t did not take long.
He caught at my arms once or twice;
then l shook him off and went to Fa-
Their Benoit, who knelt alone, bending
over the girls body. Without word,
but shivering like man in an ague,
he drew back her hood, and the moon
light streamed full upon her face. 1t
was the Demoiselle Alys..
She was not quite dead. Her heart
moved feebly, and her eyelids f1utter-
ed, but there was dark wet stain up
on the broideries Of her dress where
the mantle fell back, and it grew lar
ger as we gazed.
"Waterw said Father Benoit. went
to where, just inside the postern gate,
played little fountain with a cup and
statue Of Our Lady. wrenched the
cup free, filed 1t and began to mutter
prayers and curses, all mingled togeth-
er In my falling tears. The gate was
open, and through 1t saw a figure
scudding down the hill like a scared
rabbit 1t was the Sleur d'Audllly. So
we had married her to a craven and
killed her into the bargain! The one
deed balanced the other. The tears
dried on my hot face as hurried back
with the trimming cup.
The alarm Of Logs had Weakened no
one, and the court was as still as death
as we bathed her white face and forced
little Of the water between her lips.
Down In the valley horse neighed as
it parted company with its fellow. In
a moment she opened her eyes and said
clearly, seeming to recall everything at
once: 81 am dying. Where Is he?"
Father Benoit's fat face was work
ing, and the tears chased each other
down his round cheeks. He looked at
me In an agony.
1t was no time to count words. l
took her hand and kissed 1t. 'He Is
dead, madame"
She never doubted me. A bright
smile shone on her little face, and her
slender limbs relaxed. I lifted her In
my arms, and Father Benoit began the
short absolution through his tears. AS
he lifted his hand she raised her head
on my arm and looked straight up be-
tween us and beyond. She closed her
eyes again. and we thought her dead,
but she opened them once more and
smiled upon us, just as she had smiled
over her roses that very day.
II hope you have not lost the red
king" said she, quite in her old voice.
"You are both SO careless. But lost or
found he Is still the red king. Was it
not brave tokenT Perhaps she wan
dered, for all at once, before we knew.
her blue eyes grew misty, her body be-
came heavy In my arms, and it was
over.
So died the Demoiselle Alys, who
was the brightest, merriest lady and
whom l held on my knee before ever
she was so long as my bauble.
Father Benoit rose, his wet face
shining in the moonlight, and motioned
me to follow him-we were both past
speech-and l carried her back through
the great door, along the passages of
the great silent house, cropping our
way, for we had no light, and some
times stumbling in the darkness. Once
l felt something touch me and heard
dogs shifting at my burden. The
creature seemed to understand and
whined, very softly, and followed us,
pattering along behind us to the very
chapel door, where, as no one had the
heart to thrust him back, he came in,
whining as we laid the Demoiselle
Alys upon the step before the altar
rail, where she had knelt as bride not
half an hour before.
We fell on our knees, Father Benoit
and l, and prayed while the moonlight
crept round the pillars and grew faint
In the western windows and the east
ern window frightened and flushed
and the birds began to twitter in the
caves. l, the fool and Father Benoit
and the dog-well, there were three
hearts of US, unlike as all three were.
while the Sieur d'Audilly was saving
himself at the rate of FIVE leagues an
hour.
so was mourned the Demoiselle
Alys. who, as said, was the merriest
lady, and even when she was the
length of my bauble her eyes were as
blue as pansies-only some pansies are
purple, but her eyes were like the kind
the are blue