Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1906-03-13

great cloud OF vapor hung in the eye
Of an angry sunset. The air seemed
| to be full Of wood smoke, the kennels
reeked, my gorge rose at the city's
smell: and with all my heart en-
We'd the man who had gone out o1
1t by the same gate nearly two months
before, with his face to the south ant
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 innumerabIe roofs, saw
a gloomy shadowing Of my own fate
For make no mistake. A man in
middle life does not strip himself OF
the worldly habit with which expe-
| rience has clothed him, does not run
| counter to all the cynical saws and
instances by which he has governed
his course so long, without shiverings
and doubts and horrible misgivings
and struggles Of heart. At. least a
dozen times between the Loire and
Paris asked myself what honor
was; and what good it would do me
when ! lay rotting and forgotten; II
was not fool following Jack-o'-
lanthorn; and whether, of all the men
in the world, the relentless man to
whom l was, returning would not be
the first to gibe at my folly.
However, shame kept me straight;
shame and the memory of nademoi-
selle's looks and words. dared not
be false to her again; could not, af-
ter speaking so loftily, fall so low.
And therefore-though not without
many a secret struggle and quaking-
l 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
my way to the Pont au Change.
The struggle had slapped my last
strength, however; and with the first
Whit of the cutters, the first rush of
barefooted gamins under my horses
hoofs, the first babel Of street cries,
the first breath, in word, of Paris,
there came new temptation-to go
for one last night to Zaton's to see
the tables again and the faces of sur
prise; to be, for an hour or two, the
old Berault. That could be no breach
of honor; for in any case could
not reach the cardinal before to-mor-
row. And it could do no harm. It
could make no change in anything.
1t would not have been thing worth
struggling about-only had in my
Utmost heart suspicious that the stout
est resolutions might lose their force
In that atmosphere; that even such a
ts1isman as the memory of q wom-
ans looks and words might lose its
virtue there.
Still think should have sue
cumbed In the end if I had not re.
ceived at the corner. of the Luxem-
hourg a shock which sobered me effect
ually. AS / passed the gate a coach
followed by two outriders swept out
Of the palace courtyard; it was going
at a great pace and refined my jaded
horse on one side to give it room. AS
it whirled by me one of the leather
curtains tapped back and saw for a
second, by the waning light-the near
er wheels were no more than two feet
from my boot-sa face inside.
A face, and no more, that only for
second! But 1t froze me. 1t was
Richelieu's the cardinals; but not as
I had been wont to see it, keen, cold,
acute, with intellect and indomitable
will in every feature. This face was
distorted with rage and impatience;
with the fever Of haste and the fear Of
death. The eyes burned under the
pale brow, the mustache bristled, the
teeth showed through the beard; I
could fancy the man crying Faster!
Faster!" and gnawing his nails in the
impatience Of passion; and shrank
back as if I had been struck. The
next moment the galloping outriders
splashed me, the coach was hundred
PAGES ahead, and was left chilled and
wondering, foreseeing the worst, and
no longer in any mood for the gam
ing-table.
Such revelation Of such a man
was enough to appall me. Conscience
cried out that he must have heard
that Cocheforet had escaped, and
through me! But dismissed the idea
as soon as formed In the vast meshes
of the cardinals schemes, Cocheforet
could be only small fish; and to &C
count for the face in the coach l
needed a cataclysm, catastrophe, a
misfortune, as far above ordinary mis-
haps as this mans intellect rose
above the common run Of minds.
1t was almost dark when crossed
the bridges and crept despondently to
the Rue Savonnerie. After stabling
my horse took my bag and holsters
and climbing the stairs to my old land.
lord's-the place seemed to have
grown strangely mean and small and
ill-smelling in my ABSENCE knocked
at the door. 1t was opened by the
little tailor himself, who threw up
his arms at the sight of me. ''By ST.
| Genevieve!" he said, 'if it is not M.