Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 264, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 March 1923 — Page 8

8

Alice of Old Vincennes By Maurice Thompson COPYRIGHT. 19 08, BY ALICE LEE THOMPSON

BEGIN HERE ALICE, whom GASPARD ROUSSILLON of Vincennes lied taaen from the Indians, did not remember how they came in possession of her. A locket she had always worn bore a lamily crest and the name TARLETON. LIEUT. UTZHUGH BEVERLEY, an officer of the American Army during the Revolutionary War. who loved Alice, recognized the name as that of an old Virginian family. When the news reached Vincennes of the intended attack on them by the English, the defense was weak and Roussillon, believing he was acting wisely, stole to the camp of the English and told GOVERNOR HAMILTON, the English general, that as mayor of Vincennes he officially offered them the command of the town. Hamilton’s knowledge of Roussillon s share in submitting Vincennes to rebel dominion caused him to take Roussillon captive and to give orders for the English to proceed Immediately toward Vincennes. Hamilton had previously gained possession of a letter sent by CAPTAIN HELM, in charge of the American fort, to i-EN. GEORGE ROGERS CLARK, telling of the shortage of men at Vincennes Meanwh'le Beverley called on Alice to learn what she thought of the situation. HIS face was gray with trouble. “Heim is determined to fight, and that means—” “Good!” she interrupted with spirit. “I am so glad of that. I wis .7 could go to help him! If I were . : lan I'd love to fight! I think it’s just delightful. ’’ “lu: it is reckless bravado; it is worse : :an foolishness,” said Beverley, no; feeling her mood. “What can two or three men do against an army?” “Fight and die like men ” she replied, her whole countenance lighting up. “Be heroic!" “We will do that, of course; we —I do not fear death; but —you ” His voice choked him. A gun shot rang out clear in the distance, and he did not finish speaking. "That’s probably the beginning,” he added in a moment, extending both hands to her. "Good-by. I must hurry to the fort. Good-by.” She drew a quick breath and turned so white that her look struck him li-ce a sudden and hard blow. He stood for a second, his arms at full reach, then: “My God, Alice, I cannot, cannot leave you!” he cried, his voice against breaking huskily. She made a little movement, as if to take hold of his hands; but in an instant she stepped back a pace and said: “Don’t fear about me. I can take care of myself. I’m all right. You'J better return to the fort as quickly as you can. It is your country, your flag, not me, that you must think of now.” j She folded her arms and stood boldly j erect. Never before, in all his life, had he! felt such a rebuke. He gave her a straight, strong look in the eyes. “You are right, Alice." he cried, and rushed from the house to the fort. She held her rigid attitude for a little j while after she heard him shut the! front gate of the yard so forcibly that | it broke in pieces, then she flung her j arms wide, as if to clasp something, j and ran to the door; but Beverley was j out of sight. She turned and dropped i into a chair. Jean came to her out of the next room. His queer little face! was pale and pinched; but his jaw; was set with the expression of one who has known danger and can meet it somehow. “Are they going to scalp us?” he half whispered presently, with a shuddering life of his distorted shoulders. Her face was buried in her hands and she did not answer. Childlike he turned from one question to another inconsequently. “Where did Papa Roussillon go to?” he next inquired. “Is he going to fight?" She shook her head. “They’ll tear down the fort, won’t they?” If she heard him she did not make any sign. “They'll kill the captain and lieutenant and get the fine flag that you set so high on the fort, won't they, Alice?” She lifted her head and gave the cowering hunchback such a stare that he shut his eyes and put up a hand, as if afraid of her. Then she impulsively took his little misshapen term in her arms and hugged it passionately. Her bright hair fell all over him. almost hiding him. Madame Roussillon was lying on a bed in an adjoining room moaning diligently, at intervals handling her rosary and repeating a prayer. The whole town as silent outside. “Why don't you go get the pretty flag down and hide it before they

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come?” Jean murmured from within the silken meshes of Alice’s hair. In his small mind the gaudy banner was the most beautiful of all things. Every day since it was set up he had gone to gaze at it as it fluttered against the sky. The men had frequently said in his presence that the enemy would take it down if they captured the fort. Alice heard his inquisitive voipe, but it seemed to come from far off, his words were a part of the strange, wild swirl in her bosom. Beverley’s look, as he turned and left her, now shook every chord of her being. He .lad gone to his death at her command. How strong and true and brave he was! In her imagination she saw the flag above him, saw him die like a panther at bay, saw the gay rag snatched down and torn to shreds by savage hands. It was the tragedy of a single moment, enacted in a flashlight of anticipation. She released Jean so suddenly that he fell to the floor. She remembered what she had said to Beverley on the night of the dance when they were standinf under the flag. “Y'ou made it and set it up,” he lightly remarked; “you must see that no enemy ever gets possession of It, especially the English.” “I’ll take it down and hide it when there’s danger of that,” she said in the same spirit. And now she stood there looking at Jean, without seeing him. and repeated the words under her breath. “I’ll take it down and hide it. They shan’t have it.” Madame Roussillon began to call from the other room in a loud, complaining voice, but Alice gave no heed to her querulous demands. “Stay here, Jean, and take care of Mama Roussillon,” she presently said to the hunchback. “I am going out; I’ll be back soon; don’t you dare leave the house while I’m gone; do you hear?” She did not wait for his answer; but snatching a hood-like fur cap from a peg on the wall, she put it on and hastily left the house. Down at the fort Helm and Bever ley were making ready to resist Hamilton’s attack, which they knew would not be long deferred. The two heavily charged cannon were planted so as to cover the space in front of the

gate, and some loaded muskets were ranged near by ready for use. "We’ll give them one hell of a blast.” growled the Captain, “before they overpower us.” Beverley made no response in words, but he was preparing a bit of tinder on the end of a stick with which to fire the cannon. Not far away a little heap of logs was burning in the fort’s area. The British officer, already mentioned as at the head of the line advancing diagonally from the river’s bank, halted his men at a distance of three hundred yards from the fort and seemed to be taking a deliberately careful survey of what was before him. “Let ’em come a little nearer, Lieutenant.” said Helm, his jaw setting Itself like a lion's. “When we shoot we want to hit.” He stooped and squinted along his gun. “When they get to that weedy spot out yonder,” he added, “just opposite the little rise in th* river bank, we’ll turn loose on ’em.” Beverly had arranged his primitive match to suit his fancy, and for probably the twentieth time looked crltl rally to the powder in the bevejed touch-hole of his old cannon. He and Helm were facing the’enemy, with their backs to the main area of the stockade, when a well-known voice attracted their attention to the rear. “Any room for a feller o’ my size in this here crowded place?” It demanded in a cracked hut cheerful tenor. "I'm kind o’ outen breath a runnin’ to git here.”

They turned about. It was Oncle Jazon with his long rifle on his shoulder and wearing a very important air. He spoke in English, using the back woods llingo with the ease of long practice. "As I*B a cornin’ in f’om a huntin’ I tuck notice at somepin’ was up. I p*e a lot o’ boats on the river an’ some fellers wi’ gains a scootin’ around, so I jes’ slipped by ’em all an’ come in the back way. They’se plenty of ’em, I tell you what! I can’t shoot much, but I tuck one chance at a buck Indian out yander and jes' happened to hit 'im in the lef eye. He was one of the gang 'at scalped me down yander in Kaintuek.’’ The greasy old sinner looked as if ho had not been washed since he was born. He glanced about with furtive, shifty eyes, grimaced and winked, after the manner of an animal just waking from a lazy nap. "Where’s the rest o’ the fighters?’’ he demanded quizzically, Jolling out his tongue and peeping past Helm so as to get a glimpse of the Englisn line. “Where's yer garrison? Have they all gone to breakfas’?” The last question set Helm off again cursing and swearing in the most inelodramataic rage. Once Jazon turned to Beverly and said in rapid French: “Surely the man’s not going to fight those fellows yonder?”

Beverly nodded rather gloomijy. “Well," added the old man, fingering his rifle’s stock and taking another glance through the gate, “I can’t shoot wo’th a cent, bein’ sort o' nervous like; but I’ll stan’ by ye awhile, jes for luckt I might accidentally hit one of ’em.” When a man is truly brave himself there is nothing that touches him like an exhibition of absolutely unselfish gameness in another. A rush of admiration for Oncle Jazon made Beverley feel like hugging him. Meantime the young Britisli officer showed a flag of truce, and, with a file of men, separated himself from the line, now stationary, and approached the stockade. At a hundred yards ,h< halted the tile and came on alone, waving the white clout. He boldly advanced to within easy speaking distance and shouted; “I demand the surrender of this fort.” “Well, you'll not get it. young man,” roared Helm, his profanity well mixer’ in with tiie words, “not while there’s a man of us left!” “Ye’d bett use sof’ soap on ’im, Cap’n,” said Oncle Jason in English, “cussin’ Von’t do no good.” While he spoke he rubbed the doughty cap-

DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—

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tain s aim and then patted it gently. Helm, who was not half_as excited as he pretended to be, knew that Oncle Jazon's remark was the very essence of wisdom; but he was not yet ready ' the diplomatic language which the >ld trooper colled "soft, soap.” “Are you the British commander?” lie demanded. “No,” said the officer, “but I speak for him.” ''Xot to me by a damned sight, sir.

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

THE OLD HOME TOWN—By STANLEY

Tell your commander that I will h Ci V what he has to say from his owi\ mouth. No understrapper will be recognized by me.” That ended the conference. The young officer, evidently indignant, stroue back to his line, and an hour later Hamilton himself demanded the unconditional surrender of the fort and garrison. “Fight for it,” Heim stormed forth. •We are soldiers.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

j Hamilton held a. confab with his j officers, while his forces, under cover the town’s cabins, were deploying \w> ns to form a half circh about the ! Some an tilery appeared and was Planted opposite the gate, not ! thrß^*! ulK * re< l yards distant. One blast^of*V^ lu t battery would, as Helm j well kneV ■ level a large part of the j stockade. “g. n I hev’ a cannon, too, seein’ " ,fae fashion,” said Oncle Jazon. 1

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"I can't shoot much, but I might skeer em. This little one’ll do me.” He set his rifle against the wall and with Beverley’s help rolled one of the swivels alongside the guns already in position. In a few minutes Hamilton returned under the white flag and shouted: “Upon what terms will you surrender?” “All the honors of war,” Helm firml^^rephcd^^TF^tha^o^fight^and

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

I don’t care a damn which!” Hamilton half turned away, as if done with the parley then facing the J fort again, said: “Very well, sir, haul down your flag.” Helm was dumfounded at this prompt acceptance of his terms. Indeed the incident is tauque in history. td fyir. r*" s VL*: s’■ vgVj

THURSDAY, MARCH 15, 1923

—By AL I’USEN

Lioness Roams at Large MADRID, March 15.—1n the neighborhood of the village of Cavera, in the Province of Murcia, a lioness escaped from a menagerie with her cubs and roamed the countryside, attacking flocks. Several animals have been killed and villagers have been injured. The authorities are organizing bands of polios and civilMuuuuiaiuUtiAHtti

—By ALLMAN