Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-03-14
CHAPTER z.
A Woman'S Wits.


terrace where they had stood close to-
gether beneath the bossoming purple creep
ers with smile on her face that was by no
means affected. All was not lost because
the first coup had somewhat mlscarried.
She had however. sufficient knowledge of
men to make no further attempt that night.
1t is true that the smile en- her face was
a bitter one. And as she betook herself to
her needlework and her book the twin scar
let lips were compressed more tightly than
usual. ana there was certain hard and
fixed look about her great eyes.
"A minute before / did not care about
him at ALL" she murmured to herself, "and
do not now. 1 have other things to live
for. But Of all people in the world, she
shall not take him from me!'
Round street corner came the farheard
chant of the child mourners. the clear
voice still leading 1t, a heavenly instrument
such as angels might blow upon.
Yvette shrugged her shoulders disdain-
fully.
"She does it for effect" she murmured.
1.-THE days have been when l have done as
much myself (she smiled at the remem-
brance) Aye, and may again, If that is the
way the wind blows. If she chants litanies,
i can sing psalms. She mas made cap
tive of Jean Cavalier-so they say-the new
prophet--the eX-baker's boy Of Geneva, who
has come among to deliver Israel from
the hands of the Philistinesi"
1t is impossible to express the fierce bit
terness with which the girl spoke. There
was a CLEAN almost of madness in her eye
the revolt of keen and naughty spirit
against surroundings more hateful to 1t
than death.
Yet, to do her justice. it was only when
such a one Maurice Raith came in her
way that Yvette Foy let herself go. she
had philosophy of her own in this, as in
all things. She had too great contempt
for the Camisard peasants who surrounded
her, in spite of the fact that their midnight
marches and sudden assaults We're making
all Europe ring with their fame, to lift so
much as an eyelash upon them. Not even
young Jean Cavalier, handsome, wise,
courtly. polished, could move her.
II have the misfortune to be born of the
peasants party she said, but there is no
need that 1 should mix with them. will
pray with them, watch with them, endure
long sermons with them. But I will not
love them, talk with them, hold COM
radeship with them. And doubtless in
good time there is a way out. If not by
this young Englishman. why by another"
Yvette had a secret storehouse of books
locked safely away in an empty escrltore-
books which had been sent her by Eugene
la Gracieuse. her friend of the Partisan
school. This private library included among
others the Grand Cyrus "Clelie' and the
latest volumes of the dictionary of Bayle-
strange books to be found in the escritore
OF a Camisard girl in a village standlnS
upon it's defenses in the wilds of the &C.
venues.
From these she had learned the language
Of Marty and Versailles. Though still to
outward appearance poor girl, her mlnd
dwe,t constantly With dukes ana princes.
She walked the narrow corridors of the Bon
Chretien as If they had been the halls OF
the Hotel de RaTubouillet itself.
To do her Justice, however, 1t was not the
nature of Yvette Foy to sit down and cry
over the spilling of milk. On the contrary
she would serenely betake herself to the
work of preparing another.
So YVette sat muSing upon the young
Englishman who had left her. She bore
him no malice for his sudden departure
"Well. better luck next time, she had
said with a shrug of her shoulders. You
can hardly expect to win every trick OF the
game, pretty Mistress Yvette. But no
more will the miik-and water girl-that Is
one comfort"
For so she named Flower-o'- the-Corn as
often as she though of her.
She hummed gay, careless tune learned
IN Paris.
"shall I go carry hymn book, sing
psalms, take short steps demurely, apase
mine eyes upon the ground. Oh, could 90
It. Yes, 1 have done 1t before so she
meditated, land If I judge rightly, these
things are not what this young man loves
"a firm grip of the hand, bold meeting
eve not too forward, but as g. man to a
man. These will take him, so be that he is
worth the taking.
She smiled as She saw looking out at the
window, Maurice Raith stride away across
the little open square of the village ara
round the newly rebuilt Notifications or
the Knights Templar. He walked fast. as
II he would thus disengage himself from
troublesome thoughts.
Yvette laughed little low laugh all 10
herself, very pleasant to hear, 1t was so
full Of good humor and mirthful apprecia-
tion of the circumstances
HE must walk fast who would get away
from that Infection she murmured.
yes" she said, 81 am sure of him. He
IS too much a man of action to care very
long for milk and water
Her father entered at this moment
nj chair.
ne had scarce right to a seat In MS own
house.
.'Well. Martin Foy" said his daughter,
without raising her head from her work
or taking the trouble to conceal the book
which lay open upon the writing table be-
fore her what news today or the Won
drous bakers boy? Hath MS exceIienSy
marshals of France and smashed his bread
oven with their baton?"
The old Camisard shook his head SOM
berly. =.
''Yyette, Yvette." he said in voice as it
had been saddened with the singing of
psalms and manner chastened by habitual
self-repression before the prophets and
chiefs OF his faith. when will you learn to
speak we'll Of men great and holy? When
will your hard heart be touched?'
'Pshawr' cried the girl, "can you not
see, father. they are all mounting fools!
am sad and angry to stand by and see you,
my father, giving your heard-earned sub
stance to such fanatics. What does Cati-
nat know of any Shloh?"
at am grieyed for you, my daughter"
said her father sadly. 'for If We do these
things In the green tree. what will you do
IN the dry? Nay. have spoken concern
ing you to Jean Cavalier himself"
The girl looked up for the first time. her
face flushing pomegranate red under her
dusky skin. her white teeth mere line be-
tween her indrawn lips. her great eyes
bright and dry with anger
"You take too much on you, Martin Foy,"
she said sharply and bitterly. II have
nothing to do with them. mark me; no-nor
with your boosted Jean Cavalier himself.
though l grant you that. in spite of his
bakers oven. he Is bird of another
feather!'
AS the words left the girls lips a young
man entered lightly, dotted his hat with a
low bow to Yvette and stood as IL he had
tidings TO deliver.
Martin Foy leaped to his feet with a light
in his dull sad eyes. The resigned manner
with which he had listened to his daughter
was gone.
Cavalier" he cried. Jean Cavalier! You
do this house an honor! My daughter, rise
and bid the greatest of our prophets and
leaders welcome! General OF the army of
the Lord, the younger Gideon OF our host