Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1916-07-28
lAll rights reserved. The Bobbs-Merrill Coz

believe Very well. whatever happens
on your head be it,
He turned away, and for moment
she hesitated. looking back at him like
child endeavoring to penetrate the
meaning of some vague threat of the
future. Then the curtains fell softly
behind her.
Sidi-bel-Abbes has two great streets
running north to south and east to
west. In between are the little for
gotten byways. unknown to the great
ones who saunter about the Place Car
not listening to the band, or take their
absinthe on the gaudily decorated cafes
of the Algerian boulevards. None the
less these unsupported byways exist.
They are very narrow and very dirty.
On the border Of this region lies the
Cafe du Tonkin. 1t is comparatively
respectable, and occasionally tourist
or newly arrived official under escort
makes his appearance in the bar in
order to acquaint himself with what
be conceives to be the real thing"
Therefore when Capt Desire Arnaud
sauntered along the narrow. evil
smelling street he attracted little no
uce, the more so as dusk had already
set in and deepened the eternal shad-
ows to concealing darkness. Captain
Arnaud entered the unguarded door
way. He was evidently on a serious
errand. for he did not appear again.
Instead. some ten minutes later a man
in ragged. ill-ftting clothes lurched out
on to the pavement and skunk on
deeper into the labyrinth of alleys and
lightless passages. He wore broad
brimmed hat pulled we'll over his eyes
and bunch of roses stuck in his half
open coat. He chose q narrow passage
running between two empty houses,
and felt his way over the uneven flags,
his hands touching either wall to keep
him from stumbling. The music sound
ed nearer. Abruptly the passage
twisted into an open square. dtmiy
lighted, and the music became deaf
ening discord Of voices. The contrast
after the dark eastern reticence Of the
region behind him was bizarre and
brutal. Red lanterns had been strung
across from one low-roofed house to
another, and their soft light fell on
scene which might have been painted
from wild dream of Montmartre. The
place was full. Long tables built
rough semicircle round a central table,
laden with empty bottles and Clipped.
wine-stained glasses. On a free cor
ner woman sat with folded arms
and sang. Her voice was rough and
feelingless, but it harmonized with
what surrounded her-it was like
shriller note of the red-tnted atmos-
phere, or the articulate spirit of the
madness which caught up the refrain
and yelled it back to her in drunken
triumph. She sang the "Marseillaise,"
her splendid eyes fixed on the red.
white and blue strip of bunting nailed
on the wall opposite, her mouth, even
as she sang, curved in a subtle line of
mockery. A little to her right Chas-
seur d'Afrique crashed out an accom-
paniment on tinkling piano, which
quivered under his merciless hands. A
zouave, scarce able to keep his feet,
reeled backward and forward, banging
out the rhythm of pair of cymbals-
"Allons, enfants de la Patrie-"
They rose like one man, chasseurs.
zouaves, few French legionaries. and
shouted with their empty glasses held
high above their heads. While they
sang the woman was silent, her sleek
head with it's massive coils of smooth,
black hair bent so that her face was
hidden in shadow. The man with the
roses crossed the intervening space and
stood opposite her. She turned slightly
and looked at him.
Good evening. Mademoiseile Ra-
chael."
Good evening, monsieur"
You see, have come again."
AFTER all these months?"
He nodded.
Monsieur Is married?"
$50 they say
She laughed, throwing back her head
SO that the light fell on her bold
Semitic features. He laughed, too, and
held the flowers outstretched. For a
moment she glanced at him with a
sharp, suspicious questioning.
what does that mean, monsieur7"
what it has always meant"
'Things are to be as they were?"
YES
She bent and kissed him on either
cheek.
They had sung the refrain for the
third time. The zouave had collapsed
in a corner, and the self-appointed &C
companist remembered apparently that
be was thirsty. He got up, and with
the last tinkle of the piano the singing
died into mingled hiccuping and
laughter.