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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (April 26, 1903)
Flower o' the Corn A Romance of the Seventeenth Century Religious War. (Copyright, 1902, by 8. R. Crockett.) CHAPTER XXV. Rprisffc to Cilfh Woodcock! Withal. T WAS a true word Yvette Foy had spoken wben she said that she had a deflulte offer to make to had discerned that this youth wi the crux of the revolt. She had persuaded the great general! the Marquli de Montre al, Marshal ot France, that If the young Camlaard could but be brought orer to the aide or the king, the revolt In the Cevennea, which had flamed and Dickered on for ao many years, would be finished once and for all. And since Yvette never did anything for nothing, as a price for carrying out this, the Marquis had promised that she should be publicly acknowledged as his wife. This was a matter ot great moment to Tvctte Foy, who, more than godliness and an entrance to heaven, desired to be known as the wife of a msrahal of the kingdom. The Marechal had laughed at this, and, with Tvette's arms about his neck, he could do little else but promise. "That you may have others of higher es tate upon whom to try your charms than a mere leader of Camlsard reocls, my pretty Yvette!" he aald, tolerantly, touching her cheek. The Marechal de Montrevel, to whom Yvetts Foy had for aome time been. pri vately married, was a gentleman of an an cient family of Urease. He had survived a long career of gallantry, both In the wars and also In those other fields with which the world Is more usually connected. He had early attained high honors In the cam paigns of the king. He was a famous and successful dueliHt. If there was anywhere a forlorn hope to be led, Nlcholaa de la Baume was the man to lead It. He was now In his slx-and-flftleth year, but not a single gray thread crossed the rippled flax ot his hair, which he wore long and tied In a queue. He adhered to mili tary moustachtos In an age ot cloan-shaven men, and had conserved his powers by Ju dicious exercise, military and other. A certain suave and kindly humor, mel low as his laugh, and more than occa sionally quickened with his native Bur gundy, kept the man's spirit heartsome and sound as a nut. He had frankly fallen In love with Yvette Foy when the army was settled at Millau. First, he had begun by making love in dilettante fashion. He ended like many another, In finding himself In love with her. With the Inevltableness ot a woman's Instinct she knew the love that wss In him, and, as her manner was re ceived bis advances coldly. . "Monsieur the General did her great honor (de Montrevel had not yet received his marshal's baton, which came to him latsr In the same year). For herself she was but a poor girl. Her father well, though she did not share his sentiments. It was well' known to the general what her father was a landless outlaw who might any day And himself hanged tor treason or broken on the wheel. She could not would not listen to him. His very love, aa declared by him, was an Insult." And ao tor ten remorseless days, with the assistance ot halt a doien volumes of the Grand Cyrus, Yvette Foy kept her word. The soldier of the King Louis, general of all the armies of the High Cevenncs, fret ted and fumed like a schoolboy. He tried persuasion upon the maid servant at the door, but that narrow-eyed Camlsard smiled with close, grim mouth at his clumsy bribes. He tried threatcnlngs upon Yvette's father and Martin Foy told him plainly that he counted the lose of his life but gain, and that there was neither Montrevol the soldier nor Louis the King had gold that could buy nor wheel that could break the spirit that waa In him. And meanwhile Miatresa Yvette abode In her chamber un seen of any. The marquis did not want to marry. He bad passed through a life of SO years very well without It. Uut Yvette Foy's mode of treatment was new to him. In a chamber high ever the river at Mil lau, looking down on the shallow punts that push out on the sleeping summer river, nd the old limekiln that smokes a peaceful pipe away to the right, patiently doing Us work century afttcr century. Yvette read the curt and vehement love letters of Nich olas de Baume. She read and smiled to herself. Would she love him? Yes, surely on her own terms. Being wise, she counted nothing on words. Bhe passed without comment from De Montrevcl's most fervent appoaU. She would not consent to see him, either alone or In the company of his friend. On this subject only Eugenie knew her mind. To her also the commander-ln -chief of the High Cevennea discovered hl soul, or at Wast so much of it as bore upon the Taxed and vexing question of little Yvette Foy. Eugenie emlled a knowing smile. "Yes," he thought. "8he might venture to say that there waa one condition of com panionship under which an Interview would bo granted to the lovesick veteran of fifty wars." "And that." cried de Montrevel, starting vp eagerly and coming toward Eugenie la Oraclense, aa If she had been the custodian of a great treasure. Ia the company ot a priest and' on con dition that you marry her!" enunciated the go-between, with some succinctness. The marquis took a night to think the matter over. Three times he swore by all the saints known to a military man to give up all thought of the witch. Yet each time he paused and looked away up the river toward the uncertain red loom of the lime kiln, near which, he knew, was a house and a dark window, neither of them visible to the eye of sense. But In the morning he paid a visit, as soon as decorum permitted, to Mad emoiselle la Qracleuse. "I will marry her," he said. "Go and tell her. Only for the present it must be kept secret. The king would never make me a marshal of France 1! he knew. And so with her toilet yet incomplete and, to tell the truth. In the debonalre con- other accomplishments. And behind him on another beast, swaying like a well-filled woolsack, was Bet Marshall, with Billy leading the remainder of the horses on s string. The crossing of the gorge of the Dourble had been more easily accomplished than they had supposed, and that by a happy thought of Billy Marshall's master. "Billy," Maurice Ralth had said to him, "can ycu steal a horse V To his aurprlso,'Bllly drew himself up to his full height of six foot, four, and his voice was one cf extreme Indignation as he answered: "Dlna you be askin' Billy Mar shall at this time o' day gin he can steal a horse! Man, he could steal them by the score that Is, If the wretched garrons hereaboots were worth trying to a head-ralp." thought, she seemed by an eye glance llko the sunlit sky for brightness, to Include Maurice in the emphasis. "I thought you were never coming," he murmured to himself, and that more than once. It was her father who spoke first, when once he had deposited his daughter on the firm and walkable earth of the courtyard. "This is the young man," he began, tak ing Maurice's hand affectionately, "who was known to us as the wagoner who brought the direct and official communica tions from the camp of the allies. Like ourselves and for a similar reason he was compelled for reasons of state to keep the secret for some time. He has now made It known to me that he is Captain Maurice Ralth of the private staff of my Lord Marl borough, sent hither on roost secret ard WITHVHAX J ' SURETY OF INSTINCT THE V l Y V " " .GIRL FOUND HER WAY fusion at once so charming and ao confort able during the forenoon hours. Eugenie sped to the house ot Martin Foy, a con stable and the excellent mansion on the river front of Millau. She delivered her message without any great enthusiasm, adding, 'But, of course, you will never think of marrying him. He Is old enough to be your father!" She. was, therefore, more than ever as tonished, however, when Yvette Foy Jumped up and went dancing and skipping about the chamber. "Surrender!" she cried gayly clapping her hands. "Did I not tell you? Uncondi tional surrender! Ia he not a marquis, a general, and in a short month may be a marshal of France? I shall take my own time to publish that! Why. I would marry him If ho were old enough to be my great-great-graudfat her ! " She paused a moment and her great black' eyes smiled a wicked smile upon her friend. "And, beside I love him!" she said slowly. Yet, strange as It may seem, her dearest friend, Eugenie la Qracleuse, did not quite believe her. But in spite of the plots against the Cam lsard stronghold, and the well-considered Innocencies of Mistress Yvette, there were still hearts In the world simply and Joy ously happy. Such was that ot our swuet Flower-o'-the Coin, when, looking down the piled mys tery of the street of 8ilnt Veran, in the early winter morning, she saw her father approaching in company with a young man. Both were mounted on great Flemish cart horses, and both wore over their ether gar ments the rough blouse of the ordinary tiller cf the soil. But underneath the dirt .A l'soomfort Inseparable from such an advcruuiv as these two had undertaken it was impossible for Flower-o'-tfce-Corn fcr a moment to mis take the tsll form, erect almost to un gatnliness, tho waving white locks and great kindly, untramelcd eyes ot the lata chaplain ot Ardmillan's regiment. Besides, there waa with him could It be? Yes, It was. the young whom she had seen whom she had known as Pierre the Wagoner of Roche-a-Bayard and IIoo! It seemed an Impossible thing, but there he was, riding hy her father's side as If a part of the horse. For that is the way aides rode even during the wars of my Lord Marlborough, whatever the nature of their "Then, Billy," aald Maurice, clinchmg the matter, "here are nine good horses; if we do not get them across yon blue valley we will never see hilt nor hair o' them no, nor the price o them. Just consider thut they are to be stealed, and that Kelttn Hill Is up yonder where the houses of Saint Veran are dark against tho sky. Could ye manage It? It la worth twenty gold guineas If you do!" "May I never tak my blackthorn in at yae side ot Kelton Hill an' oot at the Ither again wl' ony credit, gin I fall ye! Steal a horse. Indeed! Man, ye dinna ken what ye are talkie' aboot, but I has nana o' your siller nana, I'll steal for love and maister-stirvlco, as an honest man shoald!" Considered as a feet of mere scouting or pylne. even aa the removal of certain ani mals from one side of a valley to the other, Billy, Ignorant of the language es he was, would certainly have blnndcred Into the first French patrol and been shot tor his pales, together with his companions. But the matter once put before him as the stealing of so many good Flemish horses, the thing wss as good as accomplished. At all events, here they were riding easily into Saint Veran, up the narrow not over-clean street. Maurice looking every way up and down (he fronts of tho hcusa Tcr the first sight tf a girl who hid Just thrown down her ploln white ses:u (not embroidery, like Yvette's) and waa now pattering down little stine stairs aa Tast as her light little feet cou'.d carry her to meet and welcome her father. As rhe appenrrd, guarding bsr skirts with feminine daintiness cn the doorsteps of the -hcufe of the eld pair In which she had found shelter, Maurice thought that be had never seen her look mere beautiful, not rvea that day when be had chanced upon her among the Namur cornfields. Stout old rat lick received his daughter's Impulsive advance as If at the pike exer cise, acd he had been ordered to prepare to receive cavalry- Maurice only wished that Flower-o'-the-Corn had somehow missed her aim. She kissed her father, first on one cheek and then on the other. In continental fashion. "Carry me In!" she cried, her arms clasped about her father's neck. "O, It is se dirty here! And I thought you were never never coming," she added some what Irrelevantly. And to the wish that Is father to the Important political business." Flower-o'-the-Corn bowed distantly, but madd no remark. Whatever her final Inten tions, she had no Idea of letting the young man off too cheaply. "Let me Introduce you to my host and hostess," she said; "they are kind oil people, childless, for this place more than sufficiently rich, and will be delighted to welcome you. Indeed, I bare been pestered out of my life during these last weeks by people who wanted to know when it was likely that you, my father, would pay them a visit!" She was proceeding to Ignore Captain Maurice somewhat markedly, taking her father by the hand, in order to guide him up the dark stlarway. But Patrick Well wooj had old-fashioned notions of deport ment and would by no means precede the young man. "Nay, my daughter,' 'he said, "he Is In a manner our guest or at least yours! Cap tain Ralth, will you be good enough to offer Mistress Frances your arm?" Flower-o'-the-Corn had no choice but to r-ut her hand on the young man's sleeve, so that the mere light touch made his heart teat violently. "Captain Ralth?" she repeated. Icily enough, "did I understand my father to say so?" "That Is my name," said Maurice, Inno cently. "Captain of which aervice?" aald Fiower-o'-the-Corn, with a glance at the red uni form ot the Maiacn du Roi which Maurice still wore under hia wagoner's blouse. The young man laughed a cheerful, hearty laugh good to hear. "Of the Engllth service, of course!" he aaswered. "How then came you by this pretty thing?" aald Frances, touching the red uni form with her hand. "That I cannot say,' he replied. "I had thought to have brought with me my staff coat, with aome Idea that If taken by the French, I might have at least one chance the more of not being hung for a spy. But some fairy must have been abroad the night when the wagons were unloaded, for when the package was opened we turned out the uniform of the Mai son Rouge of the king of France!" "Ah!" said Frances, leaning a little more heavily upon his arm. The stairs were a little steeper Just at that point. Then she added softly to herself, "Me thinks I could put my hand upon the fairy
