Decatur Democrat, Volume 43, Number 33, Decatur, Adams County, 26 October 1899 — Page 6

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1 OH HR * By THEODORE ROBERTS. [Copyright, 1890, by American Press Asso- , elation.] CHAPTER XIII. THE TRYST WITH THE PRINCESS. As we were about to leave the place a fellow of the swashbuckler stamp came in with great clashing of hie scabbard. He reeled against me, and on the instant I felt something plucked from the inside of the open breast of my cloak. “This is a pretty bauble, ” he grinned, bolding Princess Barbara's buckle in his hand, and even as I clutched at him be discovered the great price of the stones and dashed past toward the door. With shouts of rage and many threats we all sped after him, the poets dropping their verses and running lustily. The street was empty save for the flying figure cf the thief. With a fair running grouvd before us. Tom and I kept our wind for the chase, but the rhyme writers and Red Harding continued bellowing out and waving their swords, much to the danger of each other’s head. Soon we saw that the man with the buckle, by the manner of his running, was much further in wine than any of our party. He stopped frequently to take breath. He fell over twice, and at last, with Tom at his heels, dashed aside in the doorway of a tall house. In we went after him like a pack of bounds. Then began an awful tripping across each ether’s legs and overturning of tables, for the hall was pitch dark. The door slammed shut after the last yelling poet had scrambled in. For awhile we had a devil of a time, and when by some unseen agency the candles were lit we had a much worse one. for we found ourselves in a trap of robbers and cutthroats, all garbed and armed like soldiers and gentlemen And the man who had led ns here was not so far gone in drink as we had at first supposed There, in the narrow, richly appointed hall, occurred a woeful fight. The inmates were two to our one. but happily, owing to broken furniture and limited space, this gave them little advantage. At the very first of it I lunged at the thief, who still held Barbara’s buckle, and spitted him clean through the side. It was but the work of a moment to snatch the trinket from his twitching fingers and fasten it on my own breast While engaging a burley, thick legged rascal across a bench I saw with the corner of my eye one of the poets shouting and stabbing at a man of twice his size. They spun about and leaped back and on like crazy men and were both very drunk. But presently the scribe changed his rapier to his left

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hand and brought down a cracking broadsword cut cn his antagonist’s head which ended that little passage of arms Red Harding, after sorely wounding his man. went back and kicked the door until it fell out into the street Dragging one of the wounded with us we retreated, and the enemy forbore following After helping our wounded friend to the nearest inn we then returned to the palace, thanking the saints for taking us out of so merry a scrape alive. I awoke early on the morrow, and in getting out of bed felt a severe pain in my left knee. 1 put my foot to the floor and the •agony brought an impatient oath to my lips. Dropping back on to the bed 1 examined the painful joint, and. to my disgust, found it puiled and blue. This is what came of fighting in the dark. After the doctor had looked at it and punched the swelling with his lean finger, he shook his head till the wig . settled over one ear. “You must go on crutches for a week 1 or two, my good sir, and no more rid- ' ing nor fencing till the inflammation i has gone,” he said. The gentlemen of the guard, who were clustered about, drew down their mouths in sorrow, all feeling that crutches were second only to the coffin. The doctor stamped toward the door, but turned on the threshold and delivered a last remark: “Wine or malt liquors in the system will add to the inflammation, Cavalier Isstens." He left amid a thunder of groans. Ten minutes after I sat with my foot cn a chair and played a game of chance with Beverley and two of his fellows, and the decanters stood on the table. In the evening the big poet-guards-man came in and found me alone. After exchanging commonplaces he began to fidget in his chair and look at me uneasily. “Pray part with it, my friend,” 1 said gayly. “By the sword of St. Peter, how did you know 1 had anything to say?” he asked. For answer I passed him a tobacco pipe, knowing that the fashionable habit was strong upon him. After blowing out a few wreaths of white smoke be said “Have you heard about the letter your king wrote to Princess Barbara ?' I shook my head. “Some one told me that a few days ago he sent her a letter accusing her of faithlessness. ” “How did the countess come to hear of it?” I interrupted. The big guardsman blushed and clapped his heels together. “The person who told me heard it from the princess, who does not seem concerned at all. ” he replied I looked out of the window and hit my lip. “She has written back a missive that will not mend matters, and bis majesty Rufford is wratby as the devil.” he continued. “Which is all passing strange,” I said at last. “But of what interest to me?” The poet grinned and poured a glass of wine. “A health to you. you sly dog!" he cried, and drained the glass. “On second thoughts, Isstens, I advise you to put away that buckle before the king comes to inquire after your knee," he said. Then he clattered out, singing one of his own songs. In the shadows I was glad to sit alone and think. Could it be that the princess was really out of love with her sovereign lover! Could it be that she loved some one without a crown and a kingdom—loved him beyond a passing fancy 1 “Poor fool, cadet, ” I whispered, “you are a fitting youth to enliven the dull days with, but” — And I laughed cynically. At that moment a servant entered with a note and candles. I held the note unopened until the man left the room, for the little seal was familiar. Then I broke the seal and read “Bring me my silver buckle to the garden tomorrow morning. Near the dog fountain at 10. I will await you in the company of my ladies. I think you have been thoughtless in the wearing cf it. ” Upon finishing which my courage

and hope fled, and I cursed many things. Ten minutes before the appointed hour I reached the dog fountain in the palace garden, having hobbled there on my crutches. During the night a light covering of snow, the first of the winter, had fallen. The clipped shrubs, the statuary and the roofs of the buildings were shrouded in it. but overhead the sun crawled up the bluest of skies. But my fool heart was heavy. I was lost in meditations nut pleasant when there came a soft rustling down the arbored path. Turning, I beheld the princess, in a cloak of red cloth and gray fur, nearing me unattended. As well as I could, with my crutches under my shoulders, I bowed, and upon her reaching my side. I very humbly kissed her hand. Then, without speaking. I gave her back the silver hat buckle set with rubies. But instead of bending her head and looking at the returned trinket, she lifted her face and surveyed me with her gray eyes. Her glance was kind, and I immediately forgot all the brave vows I had made to dream no more of the love of one so far above me. I know that my voice came huskily and that my eyes pleaded that morning I laid bare my heart to the Princess Barbara. And yet she listened with no tinge of anger nor surprise in her clear eyes, only love —and pity Upon saying my last word I turned to hobble away, but her voice softly recalled me. “D’Artagan,” she said—then, with her face bowed in her hands, she sat upon the steps of the fountain and wept. The little threads of sunlight through the cedar branches drew a halo about her hair, and my heart was rent within me. so that my voice deserted me in the anguish of it. But presently, going closer, I said: “Princess, it is something only to have loved like this, and, before God, 1 would never have returned to trouble you had 1 known the full, sweet story of it. ’ Then she arose and with trembling fingers fastened the silver buckle on my shoulder. “And now,” she said, trying bravely to smile, “will you promise never to try to see me again and to leave the town if I tell you two things?” For answer I bowed my head and drove the tears back cn to my soul. “First,” she said, “I will never marry king nor prince, nor. God pity me, any man. and, second, you, Sir Cadet. I love with my true heart!’ For a bright, bright second her lips pressed mine, her hair was over my eyes, and then she sped away down the arbored path and left me leaning on my heedless crutches. I staid in the garden for several hours, limping up and down the paths or staring away at the trees of the park like one dazed by a blow. When Beverley came to have a dish of tea with me in my room, I asked him to get a leave of absence from the king and to come with me to Blatenburg. At first he looked at me in piteous amazement: then, leaning closer over the table, he put out his hand on my shoulder and said that he would come. With many excuses, hinting at state trouble and a message from the king, I bade farewell to the court of Cloburg, and. though the ladies in w’aiting made great ado, Rufford seemed only too pleased at my departure. I started on the journey at midday, a week after our tryst at the dog fountain. Tom rode in the coach with me (my knee forbade the saddle) and a servant rode alongside on Hagart. Poor enough company I made all the first day. and Tom respected my silence and spent bis time between reading a book and staring from the window But on the second day. toward evening, we heard a great rumpus ahead, and the coach came to a standstill. Tom got out to see what the matter was. and immediately two pistol shots rang on the frosty air and past the window went a man in a red cloak reeling in his saddle Tom returned, relating how our former acquaintance of the mountains had tried to hold us up and how a pistol ball somewhere in the leg had been bis only satisfaction. After telling which he coolly returned to his reading of the book, the snow’ still melting on his boots. We reached Blatenburg in safety without further adventure. Instead of riding up to the palace we took rooms and stabling for Hagart at the Cavalier's Pride, and next morning sent the coach back to Cloburg On the night of the second day. when I was sitting alone with Barbara’s bat buckle in my hand, a low knocking came on my door My knee being greatly improved, I crossed the room and admitted a man with his clcak wrapped close about him. His face was covered, but something in the width of his shoulders and the tallness of his figure reminded me of a former acquaintance. After closing the door behind him he dropped the cloak from his shoulders and doffed his hat, disclosing to my startled gaze my sovereign, king of Wassmark. “I have called,” he said, smiling, “to speak to you on a matter of private interest to both of us, and to another whom it is not necessary to name.” I stared at the king with challenging eyes, my heart fluttering and uncertain, my mind made up to a just punishment for my impudence in loving her. His smile took on its old broadness, and he sat himself down on the edge of the bed and motioned me back to my chair. “You have been a good servant, sir, and a true fighter,” he continued, “and have many times saved your king and your country much blood without knowing it. You will kindly pass me your sword. Mine I have forgotten. ” I brought my sword from the corner of the room He bared the blade and looked at the war dents. “It is a right fitting sword to knight

a man with." he said, and. requesting me to kneel, which I did as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, OmM V* ? I IgOsi WW( ' ' M / / If/ ‘ f-i ipi ? stared at the king with challenging eyes. le smote me sharply on the shoulder and cried. “In the name of God and by the touch of proved steel I proclaim you i knight of the Royal Order of Wassmark. ” ‘ ‘And so honor comes when she is least wanted,” thought I, and raised his royal hand to my lips without fervor. “You are not surprised!” he said, drawing up bis red eyebrows. “Yes, sire, I am surprised and honored beyend measure. ” I answered. He pinned the cross of the order on my breast and then handed me a letter. But before I could open the sheet he snatched it back, saying. “It is from the princess. Sir What’s-your-name. ’ I flushed crimson and replied . “Very good, your majesty I have no desire to see your private correspondence.” “Come, come, my good Isstens, I crave pardon, but my pride is still somewhat sore at being crossed in love by my embassador's secretary. ’ 1 said nothing to this. “But remember, sir,” be continued, “it touches nothing beyond my pride.’ “And yet the thing remains hopeless, sire. I am but the cadet And how does a poor sword weigh against a crown ?” “You forget,” he said, “that you were but now made knight of a great order. ” He get ready to go against Beverley’s return, and. with his hat on, asked if I was still of the old, adventurous spirit. I answered that my sword was always at his service. “Then postpone ycur visit to Isstens and stand ready for further word from me." he said and bade me a friendly good night When Beverley came in a little past midnight. I told him of the change in my plans and something of what the king had mentioned, and. last, of my new honor. “Your king is a true gentleman,’ he exclaimed, “and, by heaven. I see into it a little.” “And will you share this unknown adventure with me?” I asked. “I would to God I could. Isstens, but loyalty to Rufford holds me out of it.’ “What causes you to think that? The king said nothing of it.” I answered. Whereat he but shook his head and began preparations for his night’s rest [to be continued. ] 'hoteFTTre Grand Central of South Chicago Destroyed—Several Injured. Chicago, Oct. 23.—The Grand Central hotel, South Chicago, burned last night, causing a loss of 139,000. It was a 5-story building. Prompt action of the police prevented many of the 40 guests from perishing in the flames. The origin of the fire is a mystery. Five guests, two employes and six firemen were severely, but not fatally injured. Nettie Craven Scores a Victory. San Francisco, Oct. 24. —Mrs. Nettie R. Craven has scored a slight victory in a branch of her litigation against the Fair estate. Superior Judge Troutt. decided that she is not in any way estopped from claiming heirship to the late Senator Fair and she may proceed with her action to establish, it she can, her right to a portion of the estate as the dead man’s widow. Cross In Front of Engines. “One of the oddest traits in animal nature,” said an old time Illinois Central engineer, “is the desire of every living thing to cross in front of the locomotive. At first it filled me with wonder, and I used to lie awake nights trying to explain it. Now it’s grown to be an old story with me. “What goes in front of the engine? Why, everything. Let me see! I’ve seen snakes —and I’m a sober man, mind you—stick up their heads to see what was making all the rumble along the right of way and then deliberately start to crawl across the rails. I’ve seen many a quail spring up along the right of way, fly along just ahead of the engine and then shoot across in front. Several times when I’ve been running a mile a minute the engine has struck these birds and killed them. In the old days I used to jump a deer now and then, and the chances were he’d cross the track every time. Cattle invariably do it until they have learned better; so do pigs and all domestic animals. Even chickens will run fluttering across. “It seems to me I’ve killed enough animals to stock a farm and a menagerie.”—Chicago Inter Ocean.

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