The Dermott news. (Dermott, Ark.) 1910-1977, 1914-05-21

firmly. the logs fell apart with soft
sliding sounds. and he stared down at
them-his thoughts far away-a look
came into his eyes as II they concen-
trated Cd something beyond the range
OF sight. the characteristic look OF
Francois, the old look OF a dreamer. OF
| a seer OF visions
Then Lucy stood in the doorway.
gentle. charming from the slippered
! feet, locked over the instep to the
shadowy locks OF light hair on her
forehead
Good evening. Monsieur | am
| sorry | kept you waiting Hannibal
hurt his foot and must find plaster
and bandage for him. But you will
have enough OF my talking even now.
Father says talk a great deal. DO
|. Monsieur ?"
Francois stood regarding her, with
frank admiration In every muscle OF
his face He smiled. the same gentle
amused smile with which he had ad-
dressed the portrait You never talk
! too much for me- Mademoiselle Ii
is a pleasure TO me always to hear
your voice" he answered In the deep
tone OF Frenchman, the tone that
has ever half note OF tragedy. as OF
some racememory which centuries do
not wipe out. Only" he went on
speaking in French. "one must not
talk English. That is breaking the
law, you remember. Mademoiselle."
She answered very prettily in his
own tongue. In words that halted
little. Very well. Monsieur. | will
do my best" He still gazed at her
smiling, without speaking. One could
understand that, to girl OF more
selfcontained people. this open hom
age OF manner. this affeCtionate gen
tleness, might seem to mean more
than a brotherly loyalty. The girls
pulse was beating fast az she made an
| effort for conversation. What Were
YOU thinking of as you looked at the
| fire when | came In. Monsieur It
| had an air OF being something pleas
ant. Did | not say all that beauti
! fully?" she finished In English.
He corrected lame verb with seri-
Gus accuracy and she repeated the
word. and laughed happily.
But you haven't said yet what you
were thinking about"
The large brown eyes turned on
hers 1T was OF my old home In
! France. Mademoiselle. when was
very little" he said simply. "A large
! fire OF logs makes me think OF that"
Tell me about it," she begged with
quick interest. Will YOU Was there
always a fire at your house,"
but no. NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS., OF
course. IN the summer II was OF the
winter time thought, when the neigh.
| bors came, In the evening and we sat
about the hearth, sometimes twenty
! people. each at his different duty. and
my brothers and sisters were there.
and the dear grandmere. was there
and" he stopped Does Mademoi
selle really wish to hear how it was
in that old farmhouse OF ours. In the
! shadow OF the Jura Mountains?"
Indeed. Mademoiselle wishes It"
she assured him. 1T will be trip
to Europe. l am sure | shall speak
better French for going to France for
| ten minutes, and being among the
French people, your friends. Wait
! now, TIL | am comfortable" She
turned deep chair so that 1t faced
him. and dropped into it, Put a foot
stool for me" she ordered as south
ern women order the men they care
! for-and the men they do not And
she settled back with her little feet
on II and smiled at him. For mo
ment the mans brilliant gaze rested
on her and the girl saw IT, and thrilled
10 t. Now. Monsieur racontez-moi
une historic" she spoke softly.
Francois Beaupre's look turned from
her to the fire, and the air OF gazing
at something far away came again.
II Is picture | sec as think OF
that time OF my childhood" he began.
as II speaking TO himself "A picture
many times painted in homelike col
OTIS on my brain. Many a night In the
winter have sat, little boy. by the
side OF my grandmother, at that great
hearth. and have looked and have seen
-
and the fire cracking. and the spin.
ming whirring. even as ! see
them and hear them tonight
And from time to time one OF the
men. as he talked. rose up and strobe
across the room to the great oak table
where lay always on a wooden plate
long loaf OF black bread. with
knife, and always glass and a bottle
OF eau-de-vie-brandy. And ! remem-
Der how manly It looked to me, watch
ing, when l saw him take the loaf
un'or his arm and hold IT, and slice
on boldly a great piece OF the fresh
rye bread, and pour out a glass OF
brandy and toss 1t OF as he ate the
bread The stories seemed to grow
better after the teller had done that
And always waited, even through
the tale OF the ghost and the fire.
breathing hound. TILL the talk should