Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-11-14
CHAPTER II.
Monseigneur

CHAPTER II.
Monseisneur
THE Wanderers beat Chantilly. One minute
before the close of the fourth chukker the
score stood at four all. Both teams were play
ing with desperation to avoid decider on tired
Gated the ball from a tangle OF pranc1ne
hoofS and Gathering sticks, and Alec belgrade
got away with it. He thought his pony was
good for one last run at top speed, that and
no more. Risking it, he sprinted across two
hundred yards of green turf with the Chantilly
Number One in hot chase. His opponent was a
stone lighter and better mounted; SO Alec's
clear start would not save him from being over
hauled and ridden off ere he came within a rea-
sonable striking distance of the opposing goa
posts. That was the Chantilly mans supreme
occupation, (some experts will have it that the
ideal Number One should not carry polo stick
and the pursuer knew his work.
hundred, eighty, sixty. yards in front Alec
saw a goal keeping centaur waiting to intercept
him. In another couple of strides lean eager
head would be straining alongside his own
pony's girths. So he struck hard and clean and
raced on. and the goal keeper judged the flight
of the white wooden ball correctly. and smote
it back again fair and straight.
1t travelled so truly that it would have passed
Alec three feet from the ground to drop almost
exactly on the spot whence he had driven 1t.
But there was more in that last gallop along
the smooth lawn than might be realized by any
one present save Alec himself. 1t was his fare
well to the game From that day he would
cease to be dependent on begrudged pittance
for the upkeep of his stable. and that meant the
end of his polo playing. But he was not made
of the stuff that yields before the twelfth hour
His mallet whirled in the air, there was crack
like pistol shot, and the ball flew over the
amazed goal keepers head and between the
posts.
The yelling and handclapping of the few spec
tators almost drowned the umpire's whistle.
by Cad. that was corkeri said he OF
Chantilly. as the ponies wild gallop eased to a
canter.
81 hope that flourish of mine did not come
too close, Beaumanoir, said Alec.
Don't give a tuppenny now, laughed Lord
Adabert Beaumanoir. The match is over
and you've won it, and if you play till Dooms-
day you II never score better notch
!" 1t was lucky. sheer fluke.'
'"Oh, that be jiggered for yarn fellow
flukes with his ewes shut. You meant it,
Yes, that is right: So would you. Berry, if
it was your last knock"
We'll, times up, anyhow" said Beauma-
noir, not comprehending.
THEY trotted off to the group of waiting
grooms. belgrade ran the gauntlet of con-
CALCULATIONS. for Paris likes to see Chantilly'
flag lowered and escaped to the dressing room
He gave letter, already written and sealed, to
an attendant and drove away in his dogcart
Bowling quickly along the broad Alice de Long
champs. ne turned into the Route de fEtoe,
and SO to the fine avenue where all Paris takes
the summer air.
He found himself eying the parade of fashion
in a curiously detached mood. Yesterday he
thought himself part and parcel of that gay
throng. To-day he was different being. All
that had gone before was merged IN "yester-
DAYS seven thousand years"
His cobs pace did not slacken until he drew
rein at the giant doorway of block of flats in
the Rue Boissiere. 1t was then about five
o'clock and he meant to appear at his mothers
tea table. He was far from looking the limp
rag" of his phrase to Joan. Indeed. it might
have taxed the resources of any crack regiment
in Paris that day to produce his equal in con-
dition. Twenty-four years old, nearly six feet
in height, lean and wiry, square wriSted, broad
shouldered, and straight spear, he met the
physical requirements, at least, of those classic
youths beo we'd of Joans favorite goddess.
Usually his clean cut face, typically American
in its high cheekbones. firm chin, mobile mouth
and thoughtful eyes, wore happy go-lucky ex-
preston that was the despair of matchmaking
mamas; but to-day Alec was serious. He was
thinking of the promise that to the souls of fire
would be given more fire, to the manful might
more than mans.
IF he had not been SO preoccupied he would
certainly have heard the raucous shouts OF
newsboys running frantically along the boule-
wards That is to say, he heard, but did not
heed else some shadow of a strange destiny
must have dimmed his bright dreams.