Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 260, Indianapolis, Marion County, 10 March 1923 — Page 8

8

Alice of Old Vincennes By Maurice Thompson COPYRIGHT. 190 8. BY ALICE LEE THOMPSON

BEGIN HERE CAPT. LEONARD HELM and LIEUT. FITZJIUGH BEVERLEY were eent from K ask ask la by GEORGE ROGERS CLARK, an officer of the American Army during the Revolutionary War. to take charge of military affairs at Vincennes, where the fortification was poor. ALICE, foster daughter of GASPARD ROUSSILLON, a man of prestige in Vincennes, attended the river house dance with Beverley, rejecting the invitation of RENE DE RONVILLE. her ardent admirer, who was the finance of ANDRIENNE BOURCIER. IT was like an eagle dancing with a linnet, or a giant with a fairy, when the big lieutenant led out la petite Adrienne, as everybody called her. The honor of Beverley's attention sat unappreciated on Adrienne’s mind, for all her thoughts went with her eyes toward Rene and Alice. Nor was Beverley so absorbed In his partner’s behalf that he ever for a moment willingly lost sight of the floating buff gown, the shining brown hair and the beautiful face, which formed, indeed, the center of attraction for all eyes. Father Beret was present, sharing heartily in the merriment of his flock. Voices greeted him on all sides with intonations of tender respect. The rudest man there was loyal to the kind-hearted priest, and would as soon have thought of shooting him as of giving him any but the most reverent attention It is to be noted, however, that their understanding of reverence included great freedom and levity not especially ecclesiatica! in its nature. Father Beret understood the conditions around him and had the genius to what not to hear, what not to see; but he never failed when a good word or a fatherly touch with his hand seemed worth trying on a sheep that appeared to be straying dangerously far from the fold. Upon an occasion like this dance at the river house, he was no less the faithful priest because of his genial sympathy with the happiness of the young people who looked to him for spiritual guidance. It was some time before Beverley could again secure Alice for a dance, and he found it annoying him atrociously to see her smile sweetly on some buckskin-clad lout who looked like an Indian and danced like a Parisian. He did not greatly enjoy most of his partners; they could not appeal to any side of his nature just then. Not that he at all times stood too much on his aristocratic traditions. or lacked the virile traits common to vigorous and worldly-minded men: but the contrast between Alice md the other girls present was somehow an absolute bar to a democratic freedom of the sort demanded by the j occasion. He met Father Beret and ; passed a few pleasant words with him. "They have honored your flag, my ' son, I am glad to see,” the priest said, pointing with a smile to where, in one corner, the banner that bore Alice’s name was effectively draped. Beverly had not noticed It before, and when he presently got possession of Alice he asked her to tell him the story of how she planted it on the fort, although he had heart! it to the last detail from Father Beret Just a moment ago They stood together under its folds while she naively sketched the scene for him, evn down to her picturesquely disagreeable interview with Long-Hair, mention of whom led up to the story of the Indian’s race with the stolen dame Jeanne u: brandy under his arm on that memorable night, and the subsequent S%rvices performed for him by Father Beret and her. after she and Jean had aftur.d him in the mud beyond the Hver. gftThe dancing went on at a furious while they stood there. Now fCMd again a youth came to claim her. she said she was tired and begged SL rest awhile, smiling sc graciously each one that his rebuts thrilled Jfilm as if it had been the most flattering gift of tender partiality, while at the same time he suspected that It was all for Beverly. Helm in his most jovial mood was circulating freely among those who formed the periphery of the dancing area; he even ventured a few clumsy capers In a cotillion with lime, Godere for partner. She danced well; (but he. as someone remarked, stumbled all over himself. There was hut one thing to mar the [evening's pleasure; some of the men prank too much and grew boisterous. I Fine for Neuralgia I Musterole insures quick relief from Ireuralgia. When those sharp pains go [shooting through your head, just rub L little of this clean, white ointment fcn- your temples and neck. Musterole is made with oi! of mustard. but will not burn and blister like the old-fashioned mustard plaster. 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A quarrel ended in a noisy but harmless fight near one of the fires. M. Roussillon rushed to the spot, seized the combatants, tousled them playfully, as if they had been children, rubbed their heads together, laughed stormily and so restored the equilibrium of temper. It was late when fathers and mothers In the company began to suggest adjournment. Oncle Jazon's elbow was tired and the enthusiasm generated by his unrecognized Bergonzi became fitful, while the relaxing crowd rapidly encroached upon the space set apart for the dancers. In the open lamps suspended here and there the oil was running low, and the rag wicks sputtered and winked with their yellow flames. "Well,” said M. Roussillon, coming to where Alice and Beverley stood insulated and isolated by their great delight in each other’s company, “it’s time to go home.” Beverley looked at his watch; it was a quarter to three! Alice also looked at the watch, and saw engraved and enameled on its massive case the Beveriey crest, but she did not know what it meant. There was something of the sort in the back of her locket, she remembered with satisfaction. Just then there was a peculiar stir in the flagging crowd. Someone had arrived, a coureur de bois from the north. Where was the commandant? the coureur had something important for him. Beverly heard a remark in a startled voice about the English getting ready for a descent upon the Wabash valley. This broke the charm which thralled him and sent through his nerves the bracing shock that only a soldier can feel when a hint of coming battle reaches him. Alice saw’ the flash in his face. “Where is Captain Helm? I must see him immediately. Excuse ms," he said, abruptly turning away and looking over the heads of the people; yonder he is, I must go to him.” The coureur de bois, Adolphe Dutremble by name, was just from the head waters of the Wabash. He was speaking to Helm when Beverley came up. M. Uoussiilon followed close upon the lieutenant’s heels, as eager as he to know what the message amounted to; but Helm took the coureur aside, motioning Beverley to join them. M. Roussillon included himself in the conference. After all it was but the gossip of savages that Dutremble communicated: still the purport was startling in the extreme. Governor Hamilton, so the story ran, had been organizing a large force; he was probably now on his way to the portage of the Wabash with a flotilla of batteaux. sonucompanies of disciplined soldiers, ai tillery and a strong body of Indians. Helm listened attentively to Dutremble's lively sketch, then cross | questioned him with laconic directness. "Send Mr. Jazon to me.” he said to M. Roussillon, as if speaking to a servant. The master Frenchman went | promptly, recognizing Captain Heim's right to command, and sympathizing with hi3 unpleasant military’ predie i ment if the news should prove true. Oncle Jazon came in a minute, his fiddle and bow clamped under his arm, j *o receive a verbal commission, which ! sent him with some scout of his own j choosing forthwith to the Wabash pottage or far enough to ascertain what the English commander was doing. After the conference Beverley made haste to join Alice; but he found that ; she had gone home. "One hell of a fix we’ll be in if Ham iff on comes down here with a goo ; i force,” said Helm. | Beverley felt like retorting that a little forethought, zeal and prepara tion might have lessened the pros pective gloom. He had been troubled all the time about Helm’s utter lack of military precaution. True, there was very’ little material out of which that optimistic officer could have formed a bony of resistance agarnst the army probably at Hamilton’s command: but Beverley was young, energetic, bellicose, and to him everything seemed possible; he believed in vigilance, discipline, activity, dash; he had a great faith in the efficacy of enthusiasm. "We must organize these French men,” he said; "they will make good fighters if we can once get them to act as a body’. There’s no time to be lost; hut we have time enough in which to do a great deal before Hamilton can arrive, if we go at it in earnest.” "Your theory is excellent, lieutenant. but the practice of it won't be worth a damn,” Helm replied with perfect good nature. "I'd like to see you organize these parly-voos. There ain’t a dozen of 'em that wouldn't accept the English with open arms. T know ’em. They’’re good hearted, polite and all that; they’’U hurrah for the flag; that’s easy’ enough; hut put ’em to the test and they’ll join in with the strongest side, see if they don’t. Os course there are a few exceptions. There’s Jazon, he's all right, and T have faith in.Bosseron, and Legrace, and young Ronville.” “Roussillon —” Beverly began. "Is much of a blow-hard,’ Helm interrupted with a laugh. “Barks loud, but his biting disposition is piobably not vicious.” "He and Father Beret control the whole population at all events,” said Beverly. “Yes, and such a population!” While joining in Captain Helm’s laugh at the expense of Vincennes, Beverley took leave to indulge a mental reservation In favor of Alice. He could not bear to class her with the crowd of noisy, thoughtless, mercurial beings whom hf* heard still singing gay’ snatches and calling to one another from distance to distance, as they strolled homeward in groups and pairs. Nor could the Impending danger of an enforced surrender to the English and Indians drive from his mind her beautiful Image, while he lay for the rest of the night between sleeping and waking on his primitive bed, alternately hearing over again her every phrase and laugh, and striving to formulate some definite plan for defending the town and fort. His heart was full of her. She had surprised his nature and filled it, as with a wonderful, haunting song. His y’outh, his imagination, all that was f*‘sh and spontaneously gentle and r.'tural in him, was flooded with the

DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—

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magnetic splendor of her beauty. And yet. in his pride (arid it was not a false pride, but rather a noble regard for his birthright) he vaguely realized how far she was from him, how impossible. CHAPTER VIII ONCLE JASON, feeling like a fish returned to the water after a long and torturing captivity in the open air, plunged into the for-

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

THE OLD HOME TOWN—By STANLEY

ests with anticipations of lively adventure and made his way toward the Wea plains. It was his purpose to get a boat at the village of Ouiatenon and pull thence up the Wabash until lie could find out what the Englisii were doing. He chose for his companions on this dangerous expedition two expert coureurs de bois, Dutremble and Jacques Baiioup. Fifty miles up the river they fell in with some friendly Indians, well known to them

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

all, who were returning from the portage. The savages informed them that there were no signs of an English advance in that quarter Some of them had been as far as the St. Joseph River and to within a short distance of Detroit without seeing a white man or hearing of any suspicious movements on the part of Hamilton. So hack came Oncle Jason with his pleasing report, much

Too Many Questions

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disappointed that he had not been able to stir up some sort of trouble. It was Helm’s turn to laugh. “What did I tell you?” he cried, in a jolly mood, slapping Beverley on the shoulder. “I knew- mighty well that It was all a big story with nothing in it. What on earth would the English be thinking about to march an army away off down here only to capture a rotten stockade and u lot of gabbling parly-voos?”

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

Beverley, while he did not feel quite I as confident as his chief, was not j sorry that things looked a little | brighter than he had feared they would turn out to be. Secretly, and ■without acknowledging it to himself, he was delighted with the life he was living. The Arcadian atmosphere of Vincennes clothed him in its mists and dreams. No matter what way the weather blew its breath, cold or Witrna.ckuj|^fliatfj

SATURDAY, MARCH 10, 1923

—By ALLMAN

—By AL POSEN

rain or snow, the peace in his aoul changed not. His nature seemed to hold all of its sterner and fiercer trait.-* in abeyance while he dom idled himself absolutely within his narrow and monotonous environment. Since the dance at the river house anew content, like a soft and diffused sweetness, had crept through his blood with a vague, tingling sens* of joy.