Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-04-25

ally uuickened with his native Burgundy.
kept the man spirit heartsome and sound
as a nut. He had frankly fallen in love
with Yvette Foy when the army was settled
at Millau First he had begun by making
love in dilettante fashion. He ended. like
many another. in finding himself in love
with her. With the inevitableness of wo-
mans instinct she knew the love that was
in him. and. as her manner Was-recelved
his advances coldly.
Monsieur the General did her great
honor (de Montrevel had not yet received
his marshars baton. which came to him
later in the same year,. For herself she
was but a poor girl Her father-well.
though she did not share his sentiments.
it was we'll known to the general what her
father was-a landless outlaw who might
any day find himself hanged for treason or
broken on the wheel. She could not-would
not listen to him. His very love, as de-
clared by him, was an insult
And so for ten remorSeleSS days with the
assistance of half a dozen volumes Of the
Grand Cyrus. Yvette Foy kept her word
The soldier of the King Louis. general NJ
all the armies of the High Cevennes. fret
ted and fumed like a school boy. He tried
persuasion upon the maidservant at the
door. but that narrow-eyed Camisard
smiled with close. grim mouth at his
clumsy brides. He tried threatenings upon
Yyette'S father and Martin Foy told him
plainly that he counted the loss of his life
but gain, and that there was neither Mon
trevel the soldier nor Louis the king had
gold that could buy nor wheel that could
break the spirit that was In him. And
meanwhile Mistress Yvette abode In her
chamber unseen of any.
The marquis did not want to marry. He
had passed through a life of fifty years
very well without 1t. But Yvette Foy 8
mode of treatment was new to him.
In a chamber high over the river at Mil
lau, looking down on the shallow punts
that push out on the sleeping summer river.
and the old limekiln that smokes a peaceful
pipe away to the right, patiently doing its
work century after century, Yvette read the
curt and vehement love letters of Nicholas
de Baume
She read and smiled to herself Would
she love him? Yes, surely-on her own
terms
Being wise. she counted nothing on
words. She passed without comment from
de Montrevers most fervent appeals. She
would not consent to see him, either alone
or in the company of her friend.
On this subject only Eugene knew her
mind.
To her also the commander in-chief of
the High Cevennes discovered his soul, or
at least so much of it as bore upon the
vexed and vexing question of little Yvette
Foy.
Eugene smiled a knowing smile. Eyes. -
she thought. She might venture to say
that there was one condition of companion
ship under which an interview would be
granted to the lovesick veteran of fifty
wars
up eagerly and coming toward Eugene la
Gracieuse. as II she had been the custodian
of a great treasure.
I'm the company of a priest and on condi-
ton that you marry her!' enunciated the
between, with some Succinctness.
The marquis took night to think the
matter over Three times he swore by all
the saints known to military man to give
up all thought of the witch. Yet each time
he paused and looked away up the river to-
ward the uncertain red loom of the lime
kiln, near which, he knew. was house and
dark window neither of them visible to
the eye of sense.
soon as decorum permitted to Madam
oiselle la Gracieuse.
81 will marry her." he said GO and tell
her. Only for the present 1t must be kept
secret The king would never make me a
marshal of France If he knew"
And so. with her toilet yet incomplete
and. to tell the truth. in that debonaire con-
fusion at once so charming and so comfort
able during the forenoon hours. Eugene
sped to the house of Martin Foy. a con-
siderable and even excellent manson on
the river front of Millau.
She delivered her message without any
great enthusiasm. adding But, of course
you will never think Of marrying him. He
Is old enough to be your father!''
She was. therefore. more than ever aston
ished. however. when Yvette Foy jumped
+ up and went dancing and skipping about
her chamber.
Surrender she cried. gayly. clapping
! her hands. Ibid I not tell you? Uncon-
Gitional surrender! Is he not a MARQUIS q