Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1908-10-23

burdens lay together on the burning sand
"a tray of cakes from her head, a naked
babe from her arms. Constable had the
stricken creature placed in the launch and
taken out to his ship for care, sending a
native doctor after her. The negroes
regarded him with curious adulation. The
water front would know him when he
came again.
"Oh, | say, friends of mine" he an.
nounced in French. ''if any of you have
sick wives or little ones, send them out
to the ship yonder, and they will be cared
for. No, it is not hospital, where fees
are charged-just a temporary refuge
from the heat for the women and little
ones. Tell your neighbors. Here is money
to hire boats. | can crowd two hundred
babes and mothers on board"
The thought of a breath of coolness
turned his steps to Pere Rabeaut's little
stone shop in the Rue de Rivoi. Light
headed from the heat, and the root of
each hair prckling its individual warn
ing, he ascended the terraces and sank
down in the darkness at last, in his old
seat under the round window. The shop
was quite deserted. Moments passed, as
he famed himself with his limp straw
hat. A large piece of cardboard lay upon
the table. lie turned it over idly. \ pen
Gil sketch adorned the side which had
lain against the wood. The realization
was instantaneous that no common hand
had wrought this work.
The figure was that of a grown girl
Soronia-and the attitude of expectancy
brought out queerly the graceful and ar
dent lines of her figure. \ wreath of
blossoms was entwined in her hair and
an old French urn hung from her hand
The sketch seemed to be a series of happy
after-thoughts, with not line too much.
As he studied it. with interest and curl
osity, Constable became conscious of low
voices in the court behind. He arose,
with no idea of stealth. and stepped to
the rear door.
Soronia and Hayden Breen were stand
ing close together in the denser shade at
the far end of the court. The song birds
were stilled in the torrid noon. The
girls profile, a bewitching thing wrought
of animated gold, was upturned to the
eyes of Breen, and she was listening with
soulful intent. Shy Soronia, mistress of
the shadows. was called from her hiding
place at. last to hearken unto the whis-
perings of an American. Her heart SEEM
ed to wait upon his words.
A smile crept over the face of the
watcher. His feelings were strange in
deed. There was a nobility in the figure
of Breen, standing there among the huge
banana leaves. The watcher withdrew.
The sketch upon the table reminded him
that Soronia had revived the art, long
buried Perhaps the vivid maiden had
revived as well the lost youth of the
world jaded one. Constable departed.
The sky had become overcast. Pelee's
cone was not visible from the streets. a
sharp detonation cleaved the darkening
air, and from the shut houses the answer
issued, an answer partly stiied, but vib-
rant with fright-the quavering cries of
age and childhood, sharp. low screams
from the mothers. the sulen undertone of
men. A subdued drumming came from
the north now, completing the tossing
currents of sound in the streets. All this
was rubbed out instantaneously by Sc.
ries of thunder crashes. \ deuge of ash
complicated the shroud of MONDAY, and
the curse of sulphur pressed down. The
highways filed magically with a crying,
crouching, gray-lipped throng.
The American was running through the
burned, poisoned air. A woman stretched
out her hands to him as he passed A
mulatto youth fell in at his heels. Others
followed. The white man was the sub
iimation of fight. Down the terraces to
the Rue Victor Hugo the runners made
their way, augmented as an avalanche
gains weight and impetus. At the main
thoroughfare. the seemingly maddened
leader turned toward the Morne d d'Orange,
and staggered up the slope toward the
plantation house.
Ito be contnued.)