Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-10-06

souls of all pretty women went to school to
the devil before entering upon earthly en-
terprise, he wondered that he had been
open to the illusion of complete ingenious
ness in a descendant of one of the oldest
and subtlest civilizations of earth. Within
that luminous she'll of youth there were, no
doubt, whispering memories of men and
women stepped in court intrigue to the eyes.
of triumphant beauties that had lived for
love and their power over the passions of
men as ardent as himself. 1t was quite pos
sible that she might be as useful as she
desired. But his impulses were in leash. He
merely looked and murmured his admira-
ton.
Better ask what chance have I, a de-
fenseless man. who has not seen a charm
ing woman for three years, against such
practiced art? If you can hoodwink Span
ish priest and manipulate a governor who
has won the confidence of the most suspl-
cious court in Europe, what fortune for
barbarian of the north? Less than with
Japan. 1 should think"
He Invested the rose of its thorns and
many tight little buds, and thrust the stem
underneath the star of St. Ann. She lifted
her chin again and tossed her head.
You do not trust me, but you Will.
fancy it will be before long-for 1t is quite
true that the Californians are not so easily
outwitted. And-even did l not help you.
would not-1 VOW, senor.-betray you: Is 1t
true that Russia is at war with Spain?'
WHAT"
Have you not heard? 1t was for that
we were all so excited this morning. We
thought your ship might be the first of
fleet"
II have heard no such rumor. and you
may dismiss it. Russia is too much occupied
with Napoleon Bonaparte, who has mad
himself crowned Emperor, and by this time
Is probably at war with half Europe -
She interrupted him with flashing eyes.
The pink in her cheeks had turned red.
The thin nostriis of her pretty Roman nose
futtered like paper "Ah!' she exclaimed
again with that note of hoarseness in her
voice. There is a great man, not a mere
king on a throne his ancestors made for
him. Papa hates him because he has
seized a throne. Ay VII Dios, you should
hear the words fly when we go to war to-
gether. But do not care that'-she snap
ped her firm white fingers-"for all the
Bourbons that are In Europe. Bonaparte!
Do you know him? Have you seen him.
Il have seen him insult poor Markov. our
amba ssador to France, when l can assure
you that he looked like neither demi-god
nor gentleman. When you have improved
my Spanish l will tell you many anecdotes
of him. Meanwhile, am l to assume that
you reserve your admiration for the man
that carves his career in defiance of the
rusty old machinery"
II do! l do! My father was of the peo-
pie, a poor boy. He has risen to be the
most powerful of all Celifornians, although
the king he adores never makes him COB
ernador proprietarie. 1 tell him he should
be the first to recognize the genius and the
ambitions of a Bonaparte. The mere
thought horrifies him. But in me that same
strong plebeian blood makes another cry
and if my father had but enough men at
his back, and the will to make himself
king of the Californias-Madre de Dios!
how 1 should help him."
AT least l know her better than she
knows me-" thought Rezanov, as the inner
door was thrown open and another bare
room with long table laden with savory
food on superb silver service was re-
vealed. And if 1 know anything Of
women 1 can trust her-for as long as she
may be necessary, at all events