The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1910-04-20
IS m
Il VACABOuD HEROINE
M BY ANNIE ~

,fculty that Belinda and Roger can
wedge their way along the narrow
streets. In an opening beside the
principal thoroughfare of the town.
one of the great national matches of
paume is at its height; the perform
ers are picked men, champions from
either side the frontier, and excite
ment fierce and fiery prevails among
the spectators at every thrilling Incl
dent in the game. Fifty yards dis
tant a peasant play, Or pastoral, is
being acted-the stage, a sca%ffolding
of rough boards, supported on wine
casks-before one of the poorer inns.
At the turning of the next street
comes a procession of priests and
singing boys, bearing the sacrament
from church to church. Tambour-
playing, dancing, and inebriety are
everywhere.
Belinda feels in a dream, still a
dream that is no longer one of pain.
Her child's life has been spoiled for
her, tits true; and all the futures
gold is for Rose, not for her. But
she, not Rose, is with Roger now.
Their excursion into Spain will last
some six or even hours-siy or
seven hours to the good, out of a
lifetime separation! Her hand is
upon Rogers arm-he insists that
she needs his help to get her through
the crowd-and his eyes are telling
her that she is fair; and her foolish
heart beats with pleasure; and she
wants nothing on the whole wide
earth but what the moment gives
her!
Propriety, in the shape Of Miss
Burke, overtakes them at the railway
station. They get their tickets for
Hendaye, the last town this side the
frontier, and in another quarter Of
an hour are walking, as we'll as the
scorching, breathless heat will allow
them, along the banks of the Bidas-
soa. Here, advised Of Murray, their
plan is to take boat for Fontarabia
-Fontarabia, that looks but a stones
throw distant, across the quivering
expanse Of harbor mud. But man
and Murray may propose, fate fin
ishes. They get into n of the I'M
wieldly fat-bottomed boats that ply
between France and Spain, are as
sured by the scarlet-skirted boatman,
in patois, only understood of Belinda.
that there will be water enough to
carry them to Fontarabia this tide,
and rather more than half way across
run aground. The boatmen shove,
swear, smile. When a Spaniard
smiles you may know that your hour
is come. What is to be done? All,
God knows. This, then, is to be done,
as their excellencies insist upon an
answer. Either they will remain
where they are some three-quarters
of an hour and walk ashore on their
own legs, or be carried hither In the
boatmen's arms, now; or they can
wait, a matter of several hours, for
the return of the tide. Their excel
lencies will have the c~ondescention
to decide" Meanwhile the boatmen
take out each a little roll of paper
and prepare, with the most dignified
good breeding imaginable, to fold
their midday cigarritos.
81 vote for being carried ashore at
once" cries Belinda. "Propriety,
ma'am! What does that matter? I
would rather be improper than have
sunstroke any day"
And l." says Miss Burke, would
sooner perish than to be encircled by
the arms of those men, Of any men.
I will never quit this boat living,
save on my own feet"
And not by one hairs breadth can
she be made to swerve from her prin-
ciples. She will wait till the tide has
so far ebbed that she may walk
ashore across the mud; she will wait,
if need be, till nightfall; will risk the
danger of sunstroke. To the profana-
ton of a mans, although but a red
skirted boatman's arms, the Woman
of the Future will never bring her
self to submit.
We'll, if this indeed be the case,
then" says Roger perfdiously, IF
we cannot induce you'-induce her.
Ito change your mind, Miss Burke,
perhaps the best plan would be for
Belinda and me to 60 ashore as we
can, look out for a hotel, order din
ner, and so on. This will give you
more time for seeing Fontarabia af-
~terward, and"
Leave me, I beg, sir" says Miss
Burke, putting up her umbrella stern
ly, but without compliments. Miss
O'Shea, I must ask you to dispose of
your day entirely without reference
to me. Settle with the boatmen? No,
1 thank you" Roger, enslaved by
old-world superstitions as to woman's
helplessness, having at this point
weakly taken out his purse. II will
settle with them when they have
fulfilled their engagement, when !
find myself safe on land, not before
So the matter is settled. One of
the men lifts Belinda from the boat,
about as easily as a child lifts a kit
ten, then wades, bearing her in his
arms, through the shallow water.
Captain Temple is conveyed on the
stout shoulders of the other. A
couple of minutes later they are
ashore on Spanish soil and alone.