Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1904-04-30

HILL AL tIldI is us uOllllR 10 me
where Celeste is concerned. oh; Flaa
eide, think of 1t! / love her, love her,
love her-do you comprehend what that
means to such a man as 1? /, who have
loved her almost from her birth, have
seen her taken from me and sold-yes,
sold by her money-loving father, sold,
sold! j, who nave borne all her nus
bands leers when. flushed with the in
science of rank and wine, this hriveled
bridegroom bore her as a piece OF or
nament to his house in Paris. Can l
bear to lose her now?"
But, Jerome, you would not be such
a coward as to permit our brethren
In the colonies to be slaughtered, while
you tell your pitiful lie to shield a
woman? 1t annot be done. What a
1901 you are come to be. Man, man,
where is your c%ourage?"
Il care not. Love for such a woman
would make of Truth a liar, and of
love a fool. Think, Placide, think Of
her, celeste, in the Bastille, the irons
cutting into her delicate hands, those
hands which / have so fondly held
within my own-the cold stones for her
bed. Or, worse: The block, the heads
nan and the Jeering rabble. Have you
no feeling, man? Suppose there was
some woman whom you loved-a guilty
love, l grant-but so strong, so deep,
so overpowering, you could not master
1t? Suppose she were threatened,
would you not protect her even if you
lost your life; yea, battered away your
honor?"
A pale little fearful face thrust it
self before me as he spoke, and / knew
my own weak heart. / confess his
pleading staggered me, and l hesitat-
ed. He came closer; all the love and
fear of a strong and desperate man
wove itself into his words.
Could you only have seen her two
hours ago when you left her chamber;
have heard her sobs, felt the tremble
OF her heart when she threw herself,
Just as when a child she used to do,
into my arms pleading for protection!
Those dispatches will 'uin her. She
so calm, so proud, so brave to all the
world, wept like a terrified baby upon
my breast. Placide, I'd die and go to
hell to save her. She so cold and pure,
her very name is a reproach to this
flock of butterfly women. This
loves me, V me even though that
love be what men call dishonor. BAH!
l hate h word. Her father never
sold her heart. No, that was mine,
forever mine. Had | but foreseen this
I'd have left you rotting in Bertrand's
dungeon. No, no. Placide, l meant
1t not; I'm not myself; forgive me,
comrade; pity her and pity me-"
l vaguely wondered what there could
be in the packet to cause him so sin
cere an apprehension. But l must
think of my people and be strong. l
denied him once for all. He sprang at
me with the fury of a demon. Being
the cooler and stronger. | threw him
off easily and reached the door as he
came again with his sword. 1t was a
delicate predicament. l could easily
kill him. Wild with a lovers fear, he
left his front open to my blade, but I'd
had enough of death. He paused to
shove a table from his path, which
gave me time to open and slip through
the door.
In a moment he rushed out behind
me, pale and painting. The corridor,
deserted, echoed to u flying steps. l
ran on ahead making my way toward
the horses. Meeting people outside, we
had to slacken our gait, smile, and con-
ceal the realities of the situation, the
necessity for which he apprehended as
quickly as /.
Four horses stood ready, and choos-
Ing the n I thought best fitted for a
hard Chase-it was evident we could
not afford to fight it out at Sceaux-
and to fight seemed now his purpose
| vaulted lightly into the saddle, and
before Jerome could hinder, had
jumped the low wall and taken the di-
rect road TO Paris.
- iASi 40 " WAS,
it took him no time to follow, and his
grooms Joined in the chase.
On, on, We sped. Trees, fences, walls
and people all melted into one motley
and indistinguishable stream. In the
open road we strung out, according to
the speed of our mounts, one of the
grooms dropping farther and farther
In the rear. The distance between
Jerome and myself, despite his frantic
belaborings of his brave steed, grew
steadily greater.
Just before we passed a crooked lane
off to the left, leading whittier l knew
not, Jerome turned in his saddle and
called to the two grooms now well to
the rear.
road. Cut him Off"
The fellows obeyed, refining their
horses into a swinging lope, as, less
hurried, they took the lane indicated.
Jerome thence rode on after me alone.
The situation was now becoming awk-
ward. ! had acted without cool con-
sideration heretofore, taking the Paris
road because 1t was the only one l
knew, and trusting thereafter largely
to fortune. Now, as l caught occasional
glimpses of the city spires, the towers
of Notre Dame, 1 must perforce re-
member / had no hopes from them.
The crazed man behind knew the city
we'll, while to me 1t was a labyrinth of
difficulty. / had no friends, while he
counted many. l must act, and that
quickly. Had / but known enough to
turn down that lane into the Versailles
road l could have reached the palace
without molestation, thanks to my good
luck in picking the best horse of the
lot. Thinking of the lane brought an
idea which promised we'll.
Moderating my speed gradually I
ctI ffnrn1 TnpAY,Aa 80 Iro ms, 1900. a.
called over my shoulder that as we
were now man to man, we might dis
mount and fight 1t out upon a piece of
level sward beside the road. His horse
was nearly spent, and infiamed to fury
by the fear of my escape, he eagerly
agreed. While we parleyed, l worked
myself into a position near his horses
head, and as he prepared to alight,
snatched my sword and with a quick
upper cut severed one rein near the bit.
The blade having cut his horse slight
ly under his throat, he reared and
plunged, and finding himself uncon-
trolled started madly off down the road,
Jerome cursing, screaming and clinging
to his name.
l had to laugh at the success of my
strategem, for though it was a scurvy
trick to play an old friend, it was much
the simplest way out OF the difficulty
to dispose of him in this bloodless
fashion. l put my horse about now
without interference. When / wheeled
down the lane toward Versailles, Jer-
ONES clatter and dust was just dying
away over the crest OF a distant hill, /
making most excellent time in the di-
of Paris.
Now that this new danger was past,
| rode on heavy-hearted enough, for l
had grown TO love Jerome, and blamed
him little for his sudden touch of fury.
/ was nearly in the same boat.
borne on by the same strong currents
as Jerome
Verify, what will man not do for
Love had turned him from a
nobleman' of France, a brave
and kindly gentleman, into the fren-