The Central Nevadan. [volume] (Battle Mountain, Nev.) 1885-1907, 1903-02-26

lash of Cigarettes tongue. TO the in
finite glee Of the whole ballroom.
"If you were but a man" thundered
fine insrlted Barbe-Grise.
what would you do to me, brig
and" screamed Cigarette in fits OF
laughter-"give hi 30 blows of a stick
as your officer gave you hast week for
stealing his gun from the recruitT'
A growl like a lion from the badger
ed Barbe-Grise shook the walls. She
had cast her mischievous stroke at him
ON a very sore point, the unhappy
young conscript's rifle having beer
first dexterously thieved from him and
then as dexterously sold to an Arab.
s.Sacre bleur' he roared. You are in
love with this conqueror of woman-
this aristocrat!"
The only answer to this unbearable
insult was a louder tumult of laugh
ter, a crash, a splash and a volley Of
oaths from Barbe-Grise.
Cigarette had launched a bottle OF
wine at him, blinded his eyes and
drenched his beard with the red tor
rent and the shower Of glass snivers
and was back again, dancing like q
little B%acchante and singing at the top
of her sweet, larklike voice.
At the sound of the animated alter.
cation, not knowing but what n OF
his own troopers might be the delin-
quent. he WHO leaned out of the little
easement moved forward to the door
way of the dancing room. He did nof
guess that it was himself whom she
had defended against the onslaught OF
the Zephyr, Barbe-Grise.
His height rose far above the French
soldiers and above most even OF the
lofty statured spahis, and her rapid
glance flashed over him at once. Did
be hear?" she wondered. The scarlet
flush of exercise and excitement deep.
ened on her clear brown cheek that had
never blushed at the coarsest jests or
the broadcast love words of the barrack
life that had been about her ever since
her eyes first opened in their infancy
to laugh at the SUI CLEAN on a cuiras-
sier's corselet among the baggage wag-
ons that her mother followed. She
thought he had not heard. His face
was grave, a little weary, and bis gaze
as it fell on her was distracted.
"Oh-he, handsome soldier!" thought
Cigarette, with a fash of hot wrath SUI
perseding her momentary and most
rare embarrassment. "You are look
ing at me and not thinking Of me. We
will soon change that"
Such an insult she had never boon
subjected to from the first day when
she had danced for sweetmeats Oh the
top of a great drum when she was 3
years old in the middle of a circular
camp of tirailleurs. 1t sent fresh nerve
into her 1.-THE limbs. 1t made her eyes
fash like so much fire. 1t gave her a
%millionfold more grace. more abandon.
more heedlessness. She stamped her
tiny. spurred foot ~petulantly.
Quicker. quicker!" she cried. and as
the musician obeyed her she wh'rled.
she spun. she bounded. she seemed to
live In air. while her soft curls flew off
her brow, and her white teeth glanced.
and her cheeks glowed with a carmlre
glow. and the little gold aglets broke
across her chest with the beating OF her
heart, that throbbed like a birds heart
when 1t is wild with the first breath of
spring.
She had pitted herself against him.
and she won-so far.
The ~vivacity. the i~mpetuosity. the an
telope elegance, the voluptuous repose
that now and then broke the ceaseless.
sparkling movement of her dancing.
caught his eyes and fixed them on her.
1t was bewitcbing. and 1t bewitched
him for the moment. He watched her
as in other days he had watched the
ballet charms of opera dancers.
Suddenly she lifted both her hands
above her head.
with me. soldiersi"
1t was the signal well known. the
signal of permission to join In that
wild vertigo for which every one of her
spectators was painting. Their pipes
were flung away. their caps tossed od
their heads. the music FLASHED louder
and faster and more fiery with every
bOlDN, TIE CuOIuS VI tuc MAI StIlltlSt
des Bataillons' Numbered from a hun
dred voices-they danced as only men
can dance who serve under the French
flag and live under the African SUM-.
Two only looked on. the Chasseur DAT
riQue and a veteran of the Tenth COM
pany famed for life at Mazagran.
Are you a stupid? Don't you dance.
eh?" muttered the veteran to his silent
companion.
The chasseur turned and smiled.
81 prefer a dance whose music is the
cannon, good father"
Bravo! Yet she Is pretty enough to
tempt your"
Yes; too pretty to be unsexed by
such a life"
His thoughts went to a woman he
had loved well, q young Arab. with
eyes like the softness of dark waters.
who had fallen to him once In a razzia
as a share of the spoil and for whom
he had denied himself cards. or wine.
or tobacco. or an hour at the cafe. or
anything that alleviated the privation
and severity of his lot as a simple
private. which he had been then. that