Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 269, Indianapolis, Marion County, 21 March 1923 — Page 8

8

Alice of Old Vincennes By Maurice Thompson COPYRIGHT, IDO K BY ALICE LEE THOMPSON

BEGIN HKRn AXICE. footer aaugTiter of GASPARD ROUBSILEON. v-fts loved by LIEUT. FITZHUGH BEVERLEY, American Army officer who with • CAPTAIN HELM surrendered Vincennes to the English during the Hevolutionary War. A cre*t and the name TARLETON Inscribed on a locket Alice wore was recognized by Beverley as that of an old Virginia family. The blow which GOVERNOR HAMILTON, F.ncltah officer, received from Oaspard Roussillon before hia escape, the murder of an Irish corporal by RENE DE RONVILLE. ami FATHER BERET’S fistle feat on the Englishman. CAPTAIN FARNSWORTH, for hla mal-treat-ment of ANDRIENNE BOrCIF.R, Rone's fl&ncec, made the English very hostile toward tho French. Hamilotn was particularly piqued because the American flag. which he wanted as a bade- of Ms victory, had been stolen from Vincennes. He stave Captain Farnsworth explicit orders to and it or have a zood excuse. One of Hamilton’s scouting bodies brought in as captive COL. FRANCIS VIGO, an Americanized Spaniard. COLONEL VIQO was not long held a prisoner. Hamilton dared not exasperate the creoles beyond their endurance, for he knew that the savages would closely sympathize with their friends of long standing, and this might lead to revolt and coalition against him,—a very dangerous possibility. Indeed, at least on# of the great Indian chieftains had already frankly informed him that he and his tribe were loyal to the AmeriHere was a dilemma requiring consummate diplomacy. Hamilton saw It, but he was not of a diplomatic temper or character. With the Indians he used a demoralizing system of bribery, while toward the whites he was too often gruff, imperious, repellant. Helm understood the whole situation and was quick to take advantage of it. His personal relations with Hamilton were easy and familiar, so that he did not hesitate to give advice upon all occasions. Here his .lovial disposition helped him. "You’d better let Vigo return to St. Louis.” he said. They had a bowl of something hot steaming between them. “I know him. He's harmless if you don’t rub him too hard the wrong way. He'll go back, if you treat him well, and tell Clark how strong you are here and how foolish it would be to think of attacking you. Clark has but a handful of men, poorly supplied and tired with long, hard marches. If you’ll think a moment you cannot fail to understand that you’d better be friends with this man Vigo. He and Father Gibault and this old priest here. Beret, carry these Frenchmen in their pockets. I’m not on your side, understand. I’m an American, and I'd blow the whole of you to kingdom come in a minute, if I could: but common sense is common sense all the same. There’s no good to you and no harm to Clark ir. mistreating, or even holding this prisoner. What harm can he no you by going back to Clark and telling him the whole truth? dark Knew everything long before Vigo leached here. Old Jazon. my best scout, left here the day you took possession, amt you may bet he got to Kaskaskia in short order. He never fails. But he’ll tell Clark to stay where Tie is, and Vigo can do no more.” What effect Helm’s bold ■ •' apparently artless talk had upon Hamilton's mind is not recorded; but the meager historical facts at command show that Vigo was released and permitted to return under promise that he would give no information to the enemy on his way to Kaskasklt. Doubtless this bit of careless diplomancy on the. Governor’s part did have a somewhat soothing effect upon a large class of Frenchmen at Vincennes: but Farnsworth quickly neutralized it to a serious extent by a foolish act while slightly under the influence of liquor. He met Father Beret near Roussillon place, and feeling hia ribs squirm at sight of the priest, he accosted him insolently, demanding information as to the whereabouts of the missing flag. A priest may lie good and true — Father Beret certainly was—and yet have the strongest characteristics of a worldly man. This thing of being bullied day after day, as had recently been the rule, generated nothing to aid in removing a refractory desire from the priest’s heart —the worldly desire to repeat with great increment of force the punch against Farnsworth’s lower ribs. "I order you, sir, to produce that rebel flag.” said Farnsworth. "You will obey forthwith or take the consequence. I am no longer in the humor to be trifled with. Do you understand?" "I might be forced to obey you, if I could,” said the priest, drawing his robe about him; "but, as I have often told you, my son, I do not know where the flag is or who took it. I do not even suspect any person of taking it.

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All that I know about it Is the simple fact that It Is gone.” Father Beret’s manner and voice were very mild, but there must have been a hint of sturdy defiance somewhere In them. At all events Fara worth was exasperated and fell into a white rage. Perhaps it was the liquor he had been drinking that made him suddenly desperate. "You canting old fool!” he cried, "don’t lie to me any longer; I won t have it. Don’t stand there grinning at me. Get that flag, or I’ll make you.” "What is impossible, my son, is possible to God alone. A pud homines hov impossible est, apud Deum autem omnia possibilia sunt.” “None of your Jesuit Latin or logio to me—l am not here to argue, but to command. 'Get that flag. Be in a hurry about it, sir.” He whipped out his sword, and in his half drunken eyes there gathered the dull film of murderous passion. “Put up your weapon, Captain; you will not attack an unarmed priest. You are a soldier, and will not dare strike an old, defenseless man.” "But I will strike a black-robed and black-hearted French rebel. Get that flag, you grinning fool!” The two men stood facing each other. Father Beret's eyes did not stir from their direct, fearless gaze. What Farnsworth had called a grin was a peculiar smile, not of merriment a grayish flicker and a slight backward wrinkling of the cheeks. The old man’s arms were loosely crossed upon his sturdy breast. "Strike if you must,” he said very gently, very firmly. "I never yet have seen the man that could make me afraid.” His speech was slightly singsong in tone, as it would have been during a prayer or a blessing. "Get the flag then!” raged Farnsworth, in whose veins the heat of liquor was aided by an unreasoning cho’er. "I cannot.” said Father Beret. “Then take the consequences?’ Farnsworth lifted his sword, not to thrust, hut to strike with its flat side, and down it flashed with a noisy whack. Father Beret flung out an arm and deftly turned the blow aside. It was done so easily that Farnsworth sprang back glaring and surprised. “You old fool!” he cried, leveling his weapon for a direct lunge. “You devilish hypocrite!” It was then that Father Beret turned deadly pale and swiftly crossed himself. His face as if he saw something startling Just beyoud his adversary. Possily this sudden change of expression caused Farnsworth to hesitate for a mere point of time. Then there was the swish of a woman’s skirts: a light* step pattered on the frozen ground, and Alice sprang between the men. facing Farnsworth As she did this something small and yellow,—the locket at her throat, — fell and rolled under her feet. Nobody saw it. In her hand she held an immense horse pistol, which she leveled In the captain’s face, its flaring, bugleshaped muzzle gaping not a yard from his nose. The heavy tube was as steady as if in a vise. “Drop that sword!” That was all she said; but her finger was pressing the trigger, and the ffint in the backward slanting hammer was ready to click against the steel. The leaden slugs were on the point of leaping forth. “Drop that sword!” The repetition seemed to close the opportunity for delay. Farnsworth was on his guard in a twinkling. He set his jaw and uttered an ugly oath; then quick as lightning he struck 'sidewise at the pistol with his blade. Tt was a move which might have taken a less alert nerson than Alice unawares; hut her training In sword play was ready in her wriest and hand. An involuntary turn, the slightest imaginable, set the heavy barrel of her weapon strongly against the blow, partly stopping it, and then the gaping muzzle spat its load of balls and slugs with a bellow that awoke the drowsy old village. Farn-yworth staggered, backward, letting fall his sword There was a rent in tho clothing of his left shoulder. He reeled: the blood spun .ait: but he did not fall, although he grew white. Alice stood gazing at him with a look on her face he would never forget. It was a look that changed by w’onderful swift gradations from terrible hate to something like sweet pity. The instant she saw him hurt and bleeding, his countenance relaxing and pale, her heart failed her. She took a step toward him. her hand opened, and with a thud the heavy old pistol fell upon the ground beside her. Father Beret sprang nimbly to sustain Farnsworth, snatching up the pistol as he passed around Alice. “You are hurt, my son,” he gently said; “let me help you.” He passed his arm firmly under that of Farnsworth, seeing that the captain was unsteady on his feet. “Lean upon me. Conie with ine, Alice, my child, and I will take him into the house.” Alice picked up the captain’s sword and led the way. It was all done so quickly that Farnsworth, in his half-dazed condition, scarcely realized what was going on until he found himself on a couch in the Roussillon home, his wound fa jagged furrow plowed out by slugs that the sword’s blade had first intercepted) neatly dressed and bandaged. while Alice and the priest hovered over him busy with their careful ministrations. Hamilton and Helm were, as usual, playing cards at tho former’s quarters when a guard announced that Mademoiselle Roussillon wished an audience with the Governor. “Bring the girl in.” said Hamilton. throwing down his cards and scowling darkly. “Now you'd better be wise as a serpent and gentle as a dove,” remarked Helm. “There is something up, and that gun-shot we heard awhile ago may have a good deal to do with it. At any rate, you’ll find kindnesss your Best card to play with Alice Roussillin just at the present stage of the game.” ' Os course they knew nothing of what had happened to Farnsworth: but they had been discussing the strained relations between the garrison and the French inhabitants when the roar of Alice's big-mouthed pistol startled them. Helm was slyly beating about to try to make Hamilt<4 lose sight of the danger from • Tail's direction. To do this he art-

DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—

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THEM DAYS IS GONE FOREVER—

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fully magnified the insidious work that might bo done by the French and their Indian friends should they be driven to desperation by oppressive or exasperating action on the part of the idiiglisli. ( Hamilton felt the dangerous uncertainty upon which the ■situation rested; but, like many another vigorously self-reliant man, he could not subordinate his passions to the dictates of policy. When Alice was con-

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

TILE OLD HOME TOWN—By STANLEY

ducted into his presence he Instantly swelled with anger. It was her father who had struck him and escaped, It was she who had carried off the rebel flag a.t the moment of victory. "Well, miss, to what do 1 owe the honor of this visit?” he demanded with a supercilious air, bending a card between his thumb and finger on the rude table. She stood'’ before Helm, tall and

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

straight, well-bundled In furs. She was not pale; her blood was too rich and brilliant for that; but despite a half-smile and the Inextinguishable dimples, there was a touch of something appealingly pathetic in the lines of her mouth. She did not waver or hesitate, however, but spoke promptly and distinctly. "I have come, Monsieur, to tell you that I have hurt Captain Farnsworth. He was about to kill Father Beret, and

It’s Worth a Coat

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Try This On Your Tweezers

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I shot him. He Is In our house and well cared for. I don’t think Ills wound is bad. And” —here she hesitated at last and let her gaze fall, — “so here I am.” Then she lifted her eyes again and made an inimitable French gesture with her shoulders and arms. "You will do as you please, Monsieur, I am at your mercy.” Hamilton was astounded. Helm sat staring phlegmatically. Meantime Beverley entered the room and

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By

stopped hat in hand behind Alice. He was flushed and evidently excited; in fact, he had heard of the trouble with Farnsworth, and seeing Alice enter the door of Hamilton's quarters he fol lowed her in his heart stirred by no slight emotion. He met the Governor’s glare and parried it with one of equal haughtiness. The veins on his forehead swelled and turned dark. He was in a mood to do whatever desperate act should suggest itaif.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 21, 1923

When Hamilton fairly comprehend" ed the "message so graphically presented by Alice, he rose from his seat by the fire. "‘What's this you tell me?" he blurted. "You say you've shot Captain Farnsworth?” "Oui, Monsieur.” He stared a moment,. then his features beamed with hate. (To Be Continued.)

—By ALLMAN

—By AL POSEN