The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1904-05-13

1t was an impulse born not wholly OF
idle curiosity. l felt strangely moved.
"What do you want of me, old man.:
| asked.
Il am Henri d'-Artin. by murders
hand laid low, 1 would tell you much"
Let us so. monsieur. let us go. He
speaks of unholy things" the boy
pleaded fearfully. Meeting no response
he turned and filed down the slope.
away III the twilight beneath the tirees.
"Dost hear the clanking arms, the
rolling drums of war? List unto the
nouts the cries within. Dost not
know it is the day after the feast of the
most blessed saint Bartholomew"
The mans wild earnestness fixed n
spell upon me, and TO the end of his
narrative L listened until the tale was
done. l cannot hope to set down here
as l heard it what the mailman said.
nor to have any lines breathe forth the
vigor 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 @
And as he spoke he seemed to live
through the scenes that he so wildly
described. 1t was as though some grim
drama We're being enacted for my en-
lightenment: So we'll as l can tell it,
he tale ran thus:
on ~yestermorn my wife. my daugh-
ter and little boy. committed to the
charge of old CASTOR, had driven into
the Rouen to spend the day. l rode
along after them to learn h news
from Paris. We of the reformed faith
hoped for great things from the meet
ing of our leaders with luke of Guise
and the queen mother. for King Charles
seemed kindly disposed toward us. But,
God of mercy. what scenes there We're
in Rouen; everywhere was slaughter.
everywhere vas murder. l found my
carriage overturned in the streets.
covering the dead and mutilated
bodies of wife II daughter; the babe,
unhurt and unnoticed in the carriage,
had escaped. Throughout the city
We're pro Wing bands wearing the white
cross in their caps. the white sash on
their arms, which designated the fol-
lowers OF Guise. n with cries Of
Death to the Huguenots" II NJ
quarter to the enemies of Holy
Church, they slew without mercy. l
had O 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 "a of MUIR
dering bands, thought to evade them
and reach the river gate south of town.
My whole soul reNolted at leaving the
bodies of wife and daughter in Rouen.
but 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 NieuX Marche l heard
a shout, Here he is, this way" and
saw a man at arms stationed in the
square ~beckoning to his comrades who
came Gathering down the Rue de
Crosne. This blocked the path along
which 1 intended to leave the town.
Riding at their head l recognized my
old enemy, my half brother. Pedro Or
tez. q man of whose proves and cru
city terrible stories We're told.
Right willingly would L have paused
to 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
ly, and encountered as l was With the
child. succeeded in wounding me twice
before l could pierce him through the
throat and 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. l had
- AVN lAlS tIoCi lSo
Rue Corneille when they debouched
into the square, spreading out and cir
cling round as hounds hot upon a scent.
Here they were at fault, not knowing
whittier 1 had turned among so many
narrow and irregular streets. Before
they found me again 1 was well upon
the high road to Cartillon. The super
Tor speed of my horse gave me easily
the lead.
1 soon overlook CASTOR, drawn aside
in the bushes, wounded and bleeding.
waiting for me. At first I upbraided
him fiercely, but a frightful cash across
his head, dabbling his gray hairs in
blood, stopped my wrath. On the ride
home he told me of the days disaster.
Pedro Ortez and his cut-throats had set
upon them in the name of the church.
He was soon cut down and left upon
the street, recovering consciousness On
ly to find his murdered mistress lying
dead beside him. He had then crawled
away to VAR me. for the whole OBJ
ject of Ortez seemed to be to take my
life.
Continued Next Week.)