The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1904-05-13

It was an impulse born not wholly of
idle curiosity. i felt strangely moved.
What do you want of me. old man?
| asked.
Il am Henri d'Artin. by murders
hand laid low; l would tell you much"
Let us go. monsieur. let us go. He
speaks of unholy things" the boy
pleaded iearfully. Meeting no response
he turned n filed down the slope.
away IN the twilight beneath the trees.
"Dost hear the clanking arms. the
rolling drums OF war; List unto the
shouts the cries within. Dost not
know it is the day after the feast of the
most blessed saint Bartholomew"
h mans wild earnestness fixed a
spell upon me. and to the end of his
narrative l listened until the tale was
n l cannot hope to set down here
as heard it what The mailman said.
nor to have any lines breathe forth the
NiSor of his speech. Carried beyond
! mortal energy by his frenzy, overmas-
tered by some mysterious power of
which we men know naught. he threw
into his strange. weird story a life and
action which entered my very SOU.
And as he spoke he seemed to live
through the scenes that he so wildly
described. 1t was as though some grim
drama were being enacted for my en-
~1ghtenment. So well as l can tell 1t.
the tale ran thus:
On yestermorn my wife. my daugh-
ter n little boy, committed to the
charge OF old CASTOR, had driven into
inc ftouen to spend the day. L rode
along after them to learn the news
from Paris. We of the reformed faith
hoped for great things from the meet
ing OF our leaders with duke Of Guise
and the queen mother. for King Charles
seemed kindly disposed toward US. But,
God of mercy! what scenes there were
in Rouen: everywhere was slaughter.
everywhere was murder. l found my
carriage overturned in the streets.
covering the dead and mutilated
bodies of wife and daughter; the babe.
unhurt and unnoticed in the carriage.
had escaped. Throughout the city
were proving bands wearing the white
cross in their caps, the white sash on
thelr arms, which designated the fol-
Death to the H~uguenots" and No
quarter to the enemies of Holy
Church" they slew without mercy. I
had now no idea but to put my boy in
a place of safety, and with him before
me rode straight for the nearest gate.
l passed unmolested through the
streets, and by avoiding the public
places. drawing out of the way of MUIR
dering bands. thought to evade them
n reach the river gate south Of town.
MY whole soul revolted at leaving the
bodies of wife N daughter in Rouen,
put the living child must be consid-
cred before the dead. AT the turn from
out the obscure Rue st. CroiX into the
open square at Vieux Marche l heard
a shout. Here he is. this way" and
saw a MAI at arms stationed in the
square reckoning to his comrades who
came Gathering down the Rue de
Crosne. This blocked the path along
which 1 intended to leave h town.
Riding at their head I recognized my
old enemy. my half brother. Pedro Or
tez, q nan of whose prowess and cru
city terrible stories were told.
Right willingly would 1 have paused |
give him fight, but for the babe. |
The fellow Who had raised the cry now
threw himself full in my way with the
evident purpose Of engaging me until
the others came UP. l made straight
at him. but he stood his ground brave
~, n encountered as 1 was with the
child, succeeded in wounding me twice
before I could pierce him through the
throat n drop him from his horse.
Verify. his courage was worthy a bet
ter quarrel.
This. in full sight Of the oncoming
band, fixed their attention and rails
Ing a shout of death TO d'Artin," they
spurred their horses to a gallop. 1 had
OoASAy GOWN the deserted |
Rue Corneille when they %debouched
INTO the square, spreading out and cir
cling rouno as hounds hot upon a scent.
Here they were at fault. not knowing i
I had turned mons so many
narrow and irregular streets. Before
found me again I was well upon
the high road to Cartillon. The super
or speed of my horse gave me easily
he lead.
1 soon overlook Castor. drawn aside
n the bushes, wounded and bleeding,
waiting for me. AT first I upbraided
him tiercely, but a frightful cash across
MS head, dabbling his gray hairs in
blood, stopped my wrath. On the ride
he told me Of the days disaster.
Pedro Ortez and his c~ut-throats had set
Upon them in the name of the church.
was soon cut down and left upon
he street, recovering consciousness on
y to find his murdered mistress lying
lead beside him. He had then crawled
away to warn me. for the whole OBJ
|ect of Ortez seemed to be to take my
life.
CONTINUED Next Week.)