Indiana daily times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1914-1922, 1921-07-16

a living husband, this night. The next
we come upon, my lady, highwayman or
peasant. If the road yields no other,
then the churl that opens my gates. Out
with you to the carriagel"
The marquis, irnplacable and huge, the
lady wrapped again in the mystery of
weapons-Cn moved out 10 the waiting
carriage. The sound OF its ponderous
wheels rolling away echoed through the
slumbering village. In the hall Of the
Silver Flagon the distracted landlord
wrung his hands above the slain poets
body, while the flames of the four and
twenty candles danced and flickered on
the table
THE RIGHT BRANCH.
Three leagues, then, the road ran. and
turned into a puzzle. It Joined with an
other and a larger road at right angles.
David stood, uncertain for while and
then took the road to the right.
Whittier 1t led he knew not, but he
was resolved to leave Vernoy far behind
that night. He Travelled a league and
then passed large chateau which showed
testimony of recent entertainment Lights
shone from every window; from the
great stone gateway ran O tracery of
wheel tracks drawn in the dust by the
vehicles of the guests
Three leagues farther ard David was
weary. He rested and slept for q while
on a bed of pine boughs at the road
side Then up and on again along the
unknown way
Thus for five days he travelled the
great road, sleeping upon Nature
Dalsamic beds or in peasants ricks, eat
Ing of their black, hospitable bread
drinking from streams or the willing
cup of the goatherd
At length he crossed a great bridge
and set his foot within the smiling city
that has crushed or crowned more
poets than all the rest Of the world
His breath came quickly as Paris sang
TO him IN q little undertone her vital
chant of greeting-the hum of voice
and foot and wheel.
High up under the caves Of an old
house in the Rue Cont, David paid
for lodging, and sat himself. in n
wooden chair, to his poems. The street
once sheltering citizens Of import and
consequence, was now given over to
those who ever follow IN the wake OF
decline
The houses were tail and still pos
sessed Of a ruined dignity. but many OF
the spider BY night there was the clash
OF steel and the cries Of brawlers stray
Ing restlessly from inn to inn. Where
once gentility abode was now but a
rancid and rude incoutlneuce But here
David found housing commensurate to
ms scant purse. Daylight and candle
ught found him at pen and paper.
One afternoon he was returning from
a foraEing trip 30 the lower world with
bread and curds and a bottle Of thin
vine. Halfway up his dark stairway
ne met-or rather came upon. for she
rested on the stair-a young woman Of
q beauty that should balk even he jus
tlce Of a poets Imagination. a loose.
dark cloak. dung open. showed a rich
gown beneath. Her eyes changed swift
" with every little shade Of thought.
Within one moment they would be round
oh a
cozening Ike a gypsy's. one hand raised
her gown. uudraplng a litfle shoe, high
aeeled with It's ribbons dangling. united
80 heavenly she was, so united TO stoop.
So qualified 10 charm and command. Per
haps she had seen David coming, aud
had waited for his help there
All, would monsieur pardon that she
occupied the stairway. but the shoe -
the naughty shoe, Alas 81 would not
remain tied. An. IL monsieur would be
SO graciousi
The poets fingers trembled as he tied
the contrary ribbons. Then he would
have fed from the danger OF her pres
ence, but the eyes grew long and coxeu-
Ing, Ike gypsy's. and held him. He
leaned against the balustrRde. clutch
Ing his bottle Of sour wine
"You have been 50 good she said.
smiling. Does monsieur. perhaps. live
In the house?"
Yes. madame. II think so.
ma dame
Perhaps IN the third story. them"
No, madame; higher up"
The lady Guttered her fingers with the
least possible gesture u impatlence
Pardon. Certainly am not discreet
in asking. Monsieur will forgive mef
II is surely not becoming that / should
inquire where he lodges
the"
NO, no, no; do not tell me. Now ]
see thnt ] erred. BUT I cannot lose the
Interest I feel IN this house and all that
Is in IT, Once 1t was my home often
come here tut 10 dream Of those
happy days again. WIN you let that be
my excuse 2"
Let me tell you, then. FOR you need no
excuse stammcred the poet II live iu
the top ho0r-the Small room where the
stairs turn.
In the front room ?" asked the lady,
turning her head sidewise
The rear. madame"
/ he lady sighed. as II with relief
II VIII det8in you no longer then.
monsieur she said, employing Tire round
house Alas! only the memories Of Il
are mine now. Adieu. and accept my
thanks for your courtesy
She was gone. leaving but smile and
trace Of sweet perfume. David climbed
the stairs az one Ia siumber. But he
uWNAr rum H. HAu LUE hllAkF ana t4F per
fime fingered WITH him and never after
ward did either seem quite 20 leave him.
This lady OF whom h. knew nothing
drove him 70 lyrics OF eyes. Chans0ns 81
swiftly conceived love olrs to curling
hair, and sonnets to slippers on slender
feet
Poet he must have been. for Yvonne
was forgotten; this fine, new lovelines,
held MIN with its freshness and grace.
The subtle perfume about her filed him
with strange emotions.
On a certain night three persons we're
gathered about table in a room vi
the third floor Of the same house Three
chairs and table and a lighted candle
upon 1t was all the furniture. One OF the
persons WIS a huge man, dressed In black
HIS expression was one Of sneering pride
The ends Of his upturned mustache
reached nearly to his mocking eyes An
other WAS a lady, young and beautiful.
with eyes that could be round and art
less, like a ch!lds, or long and cozeniug.
like a gipsy's. but were now keen and
ambitious. like any other cons Jlrator's.
The third was man OF action, COM
bntant, told and impatient executive,
breathing TIRE and steel He was ad o.
dressed by the others as Captain Des-
ROLES.
This man struck the table with his fist.
and said, with controlled violence:
Tonight Tonight as he goes to mid
night mass. I am tired OF the plotting
that gets nowhere. 7 am sick of signals
and ciphers and secret meetings and such
baraRouin. Let us be honest traitors II
France is to be rid Of him. let us kill In
the open, and not hunt with snares and
traps. Tonight, I say. I back my words
Ny hand will do the deed Tonight as
be goes 10 mass
The lady turned upon him cordial
look. Woman, however, welded to plots.
must ever thus bow to rash courage.
The big man stroked his upturned nous