Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 April 1918 — RAINBOW'S END A NOVEL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

RAINBOW'S END A NOVEL

By REX BEACH

alhi&q or *77i'f/PCW772A7Z." BY HASLER AND BaOTHERS. 4

SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—Don EKCfcaa Varoca. a Cuban planter, possesses a great treasure hoard. This . wealth ■ tons teem tUtes tn a well on the estate by Sebastian, a slate, and only he and his master k»x the secret cache. Don Esteban's wife dees at the birth of twins, Esteban and Roea. Don Esteban marries the avaiMw Donna Isabel, who knows there is laidden treasure and tries to wring the settnet frtxa Sebastian. When the slave ref uses she tries to hurt him by having Evatsgefifea. his daughter, whom he loves dearly awl who Is the special servant of the twins, w>M CHAPTER 11. Spanish Gold. The twins were seven years old vlK* Donna Isabel’s schemes bore tbeir first bitter fruit, and the occasion was a particularly uproarious night when Don Esteban entertained a crowd of his Castilian friends. Little Rosa was awakened at a late hour by the laughter and shouts of her father's guests. She was afraid, for there was something strange about the voices, some quality to them which was foreign to the child’s experience. Creeping into tier brother’s room, she awoke him. and together they listened. Rosa began to whimper, and when Esteban tried to reassure her his own voice was thin and reedy from fright. In the midst of their agitation they heard some one weeping; there came a rush of feet down the hallway, and the next instant Evangelina flung herself into the room. She fell upon her knees before them. “Little master! Little mistress!” she sobbed. “You will save me. won’t you? We love each other, eh? See then, iwhat a crime this is! Say that you will have me!” The children were frightened, but they managed to quaver: “What has happened? Who has harmed youT* “Don Pablo Peza,” wept the negress. “Your father has sold me to him —!<*t me at cards. Oh. I shall die! Sebastian won’t believe it. He is praying.

And Asensio— But what can they do to help me? You alone can save me. You won’t let Don Pablo take me away? It would kill me.” “Walt!” Esteban scrambled out of bed and stood before his dusky nurse and playmate. “Don’t cry any more. I’ll tell papa that you don’t like Don Pablo.” Rosa followed. “Yes. come alous. brother,” she cried, shrilly. “Well tell Don Pablo to go home and leave our Evangelina.” “My blessed doves! But will they listen tq you?” moaned the slave. “Papa does whatever we ask.” they assured her, gravely. “If he should growl we’ll come back and hide you in the big wardrobe where nobody will ever find you.” Then hand in hand, with their long *nigtngowns fitted to their knees, they pattered out into the hall and down toward the living room, whence came the shouting and th* laughter. Don Mario de Castano, who was facing the door, stopped in the midst of,* ribald song lo cry: “God be praised I What’s this I see?” The others looked and then burst into merriment, for across the fitter of

cards and dice and empty glasses they saw a dimpled girl and boy, as like as two peas. They were just out of bed; they were peering through the smoke, and blinking like two little owls. “So! You awaken the household with your songs,” some one chided Don Mario. “Two cherubs from heaven,” another exclaimed. But the father lurched forward, a frown upon his face. “What is this, my dears?" he inquired, thickly. “Run back to your beds. This is no place for yon.” “We iove Evangelina,” piped the twins. “You must not let Don Pablo have her —if you please.” “Evangelina ?” They nodded. “We love her. , . . sne plays with us every day. . . . We want her to stay here. . . , She belongs to us.” Accustomed as they were to prompt compliance with their demands, they spoke but they had never seen a frown like this upon their father’s face. “Go to yourj’ooms, my sweethearts,** Don Esteban directed. z “We want Evangelina, She belongs to us,” they chorused, stubbornly. Don Pablo shook with laughter. “So! She belongs to you, eh? And I’m to be robbed of my winnings. Very well, then, come and give me a kiss, both of you. and I’ll see what can-be done." But the children saw that Don Pablo's face was strangely flushed, that his eyes were wild and his magnificent beard was wet with wine; therefore they bung back. “You won your bet fairly,” Esteban growled at him. “Pay no heed to these babies." “Evangelina is ours," the little ones bravely repeated. Then their father exploded: "The devil! Am I dreaming? Where have you learned to oppose me? Back to your beds, both of you.” Seeing them hesitate, he shouted for his wife. “Ho, there! Isabel, my love! Come put these Imps to rest. Or must I teach them manners with my palm? A fine thing, truly! Are they to be allowed to roam the house at will and get a fever?”

Mere mention of their stepmother’s name was enough for Rosa and Esteban; they scuttled away as fast as they could go, and when Donna Isabel came to their rooms, a few moments later, she found them in their beds, with their eyes deceitfully squeezed shut. Evangelina was cowering in a corner. Isabel had overheard the wager, end her soul was evilly alight; she >rked the slave girl to her feet and with a blow of her palm sent her to her quarters. Then she turned her attention to the twins. When she left them they were weeping silently, both for themselves and for Evangelina, whom they dearly loved. Day was breaking when Esteban Varona bade his guests good-by at the door of his house. As he stood there Sebastian came to him out of the mists of the dawn. He was half crazed from apprehension, and now cast himaelf prone before his master, begging for Evangelina. Don Pablo, in whom the liquor was dying, cursed Impatiently: “Caramba ! Have I won the treasure of your whole establishment?” he inquired. “Perhaps you value this wench at more than a thousand pesos; if so, you will say that I cheated you.” “No! She’s only.an ordinary girl. My wife doesn’t like her, and so I determined to get rid' of her. She is yours, fairly enough,” Varona told him. I “Then send her to ■my house. I’ll breed her' to Salvador, my cochero. He’s the strongest man I have.” Sebastian uttered a strangled cry and rose to his feet. “Master! You must not—” “Silence!” ordered Esteban. “Go about your business. What do you mean by this, But Sebastian, dazed of mind and sick of soul, went on, unheeding. “She Umy girl. You promised me her freedom. I warn you—” -Fh?” The planter swayed forward and with blazing eyes surveyed his slave. “You warn me? Of what?” he growled. . /

At tins moment neither master nor man knew exactly what he said or did. Sebastian raised his hand on high. In reality the gesture was meant to call heaven as a witness to his years of faithful service, but, misconstruing his Intent, Pablo Peza brought his ridingwhip down across the old man’s back, crying: “Ho! None of that.” A shudder ran through Sebastian’s frame. Whirling, he seized Don Pablo’s wrist and tore the whip from his fingers. Although the Spaniard was k strong man, he uttered a cry of pain. At thia indignity to a guest flew into a fury. “Pancho!” he crie<V “Ho! Pancho!” When the manager I came running, Esteban explained X I “This fool is dangerous. He raised his • hand to me and to Don Pablo.” J

Sebastian’s protests were drowneflj, by the angry voices of the others. “Tie him to yonder grating,” db rected Esteban, who was still in the grip of a senseless rage. “Flog him well and make haste about it.” Sebastian, who had no time in which to recover himself, made but a weak resistance when Pancho Cueto locked his wrists into a pair of clumsy, old* fashioned manacles, first passing the chain around one of the bars of the iron window grating which Esteban had 1 indicated. Cueto swung a heqvy lash; the) sound of his blows echoed through thqj quinta, and they, summoned, among others, Donna Isabel, who watched 1 the scene from behind her shutter with! much satisfaction. The guests looked 1 on approvingly. a Sebastian made no outcry. The whip bit deep; it drew blood and raised welts the thickness of one’s thumb; 1 nevertheless, for the first few momenta! the victim suffered less in body than ini spirit. His brain was so benumbed, so shocked with excitations, that! he was well-nigh insensible to physical! pain. That Evangelina, flesh of Wai flesh, had been sold, that his lifelong faithfulness had brought such reward! as this, that Esteban, light of his soul,l had turned against him —all this wa® simply astounding. Gradually he be-, gan to resent the shrieking injustice ofj it all, and unsuspected forces gathered Inside of hhn. They grew until hlai frame was shaken by primitive savagu| impulses. After a time Don Esteban cried ti “That will do, Cueto 1 Leave him now! for the files to punish. They will remind him of his insolence." Then the guests departed, and Esteban staggered into the house and went to bed. All that morning Sebastian stood with his hands chained high over his head. The sun grew hotter and ever hotter upon his lacerated back; the blood dried and clotted there; a cloud of files gathered, swarming over the raw gashes left by Cueto’s whip. Since Don Esteban’s nerves, or perhaps it was his conscience, did not perhilt him to sleep, he arose about noontime and dressed himself. He was still drunk, and the mad rage of the 'early morning still possessed him; therefore, when he mounted his horse he pretended not to see the figure chained to the window grating. Sebastian’s affection for his master was dog* like and he had taken his punishment as a dog takes his, more In surprise than In anger, but at this proof of callous Indifference a fire kin'dled In the old fellow’s breast, hotter by far than the fever from his fly-blown sores. He was thirsty, too, but that was the least of his sufferings. Some time during the afternoon th® negro heard himself addressed through! the window against the bars of which' he leaned. The speaker was Donna Isabel. “Do you suffer, Sebastian?" she began in a tone of gentleness and pity. “Yes, mistress.” The speaker’*tongue was thick and swollen. “Can I help you?" The negro raised his head; he shook' his body to rid himself .of the Insect® < which were devouring him. “Give me a drink of water,” he sald,[ hoarsely. “Surely, a great gourdful, all cool! and dripping from the well. But first 11 want you to tell me something." “A drink, for the lote of heaven,’* panted the old man, and Donna Isabel saW how cracked and dry were his thick lips, how near the torture had come to prostrating him. “I’ll do more," she promised, and her! voice was like honey. "I’ll tell Panchol Cueto to unlock you, even If I risk Esteban’s anger by so doing. Will you be my friend? Will you tell me something?” ; “What can I tell you?’’ (To BE CONTINUED.)

"Your Father Has Sold Me to Him!”