Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1906-09-27
CHAPTER XIII.
Copyright. 1854, by Stanley ]. weyman.)
ST. MARTINS EVE.

"a |
II was late evening on the last day
but one of November, when l rode
Into Paris through the Orleans gate.
The wind was in the northeast, and a
great cloud of vapor hung in the eye
of an angry sunset. The air seemed
To be full of wood smoke, the kennels
rocked, my gorge rose at the city's
smell; and with all my heart I en-
vied the man who had gone out Of
1t by the same gate nearly two months
before, with his face to the south and
the prospect of riding day after day
across heath and moor and pasture.
AT least he had had some weeks Of
life before him, and freedom, and the
open air, and hope and uncertainty,
while I came back under doom; and
IN the pail of smoke that hung over
the huddle of innumerable roofs, saw
. gloomy ~shadowing of my own fate.
For make no mistake. A mar in
middle life does not strip himself of
the worldly habit with which expe-
Yience has clothed him, does not run
counter to all the cynical saw and
Instances by which he has governed
his coufse so long, without shiverings
end doubts and horrible misgivings
and struggles of heart. At least a
dozen times between the Loire and
Paris I asked myself what honor
was; and what good it would do me
when l lay rotting and forgotten; If
/ was not a fool following a Jack-o'-
lanthorn; and whether, of all the men
ia the world, the relentless man to
who'll l was returning would not be
the first to gibe at my folly.
However, shame kept me straight;
shame and the memory of mademoi-
taells's looks and words. l dared not
be false to her again; l could not, af-
Ter speaking so loftily, fall so low.
And therefore-though not without
many a secret struggle and quaking-
i came, on this last evening but one
of November, to the Orleans gate
and rode slowly and sadly through
The streets by the Luxembourg, on
si1y way to the Pont au Change.
The struggle had Slapped my last
strength, however; and with the first
e"hiff of the cutters, the first rush Of
barefooted gamins under my horses
taofs, the first babel Of street cries,
the first breath, in a word, of Paris,
there came a new temptation-to go
for oae last night to Zaton's to see
the tables again and the faces of sur
prise; 10 be, for an hour or two, the
old Berault. That could be NO breach
of honor; for in any case / could
not reafh the cardinal before to-mor-
row. And it could do NJ harm. 1t
could make no change in anything.
ut would not have been a thing worth
struggling about-only | had in my
Utmost heart suspicious that the stout
est resolutions might lose their force
I'm that atmosphere; that even such q
talisman as the memory of a wom-
ans looks and words might lose its
virtue there.
Still l think I should have sue
tumbed in the end if / had not re
Neived at the corner of the Luxem-
Gourg a shock which sobered me effect
nally. AS l passed the gate a coach
Followed by two outriders swept out
of the palace courtyard; it was going
at a great pace and I refined my jaded
horse on one side to give it Dom As
It whirled by me one Of the leather
curtains Tapped back and l saw for a
second, by the waning light-the near.
er wheels were no more than two feet
from my boot-a face inside.
A face, and no more, that only fol
a second! But it froze me. It was
Richelieu's the cardinals; but not as
had been wont to see 1t, keen, cold
acute, with intellect and indomitablt
will in every feature. This face wa:
distorted with rage and impotence;
with the fever of haste and the fear o.
death. The eyes burned under thu
pale brow, the mustache bristled, tn
teeth showed through the beard;
could fancy the man crying "Faster.
Faster!" and gnawing his nails in thu
impatience Of passion; and I shranl
back as If I had been struck. Thu
next moment the g%alloping outrider'
splashed me, the coach was a hundred
PAGES ahead, and l was left chilled ant
wondering, foreseeing the worst, ant
no longer in any mood for the gam
lng-table.
Such a revelation of such a ma
was enough to appall me. Conscience
ursAl Nyyf That hA ,otyrt hnrra hnor
that Cocheforet had escaped, an,
through me! But I dismissed the idei
as soon as formed. In the vast meshe
of the cardinals schemes, Cochefore
could be only a small fish; and to &C
count for the face in the coach
needed a cataclysm, a catastrophe,
misfortune, as far above ordinary mis-
haps as this mans intellect ros
above the common run Of minds.
1t was almost dark when I crosse,
the bridges and crept despondently t
che Rue Savonnerie. After stablin
my horse I took my bag and holster
and climbing the stairs to my old lane
lord's-the place seemed to hav
tsrown strangely meal and small an
M-smelling in my absence-I knocke
ut the door. 1t was opened by tn
little tailor himself, who threw Il
his arms at the sight of me. by 81
Genevieye!" he said, III it is not N
de Berault!"
"No other" I said. It touched me
little, after my lonely journey, to fin
him SO glad to see me--thSugh I ha
sometimes to unbend to him and boz
row his money. "You look surprised
little mani" continued, as he mad
way for me to enter. It'll be swor
x-o,, hava heen nawning NV po0ds mn