The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, January 29, 1881, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextTOL. V! J. H. & W. B. SEALS} proprlItorb. ATLANTA. (JA., JANUARY 29, 1881. Terms in Advance: {SilA“ r P y? .50, 5c. NO. 2S5 MY DliCAHK. BY SALOME. 1 bulld.-d a castle fair and grand Arid filled it with treasures from every laud; The sunshine of pictures streamed from the wal ls And music’s soft strains floated down the wide halls; The air was all redolent with rich perfume Of flowers Mushing in perfect hioom, And gty blight birds witn jubilant song Trl led a chorus of silv'ry notes all the day long. Friends gathered around me, tried and true— No chi ting distrust their fond hearts knew The swifl frosted houiswenl joyously by, With no cloud to darken the sunny sky’ I reveled in gladness and sweet content. Wooed bv each soothing blandishment; And 1 said I never can sorrow more, I’ve leached fruition’s happy shore. ’Twas hut a dream—in a short, short day Tlie beautiful vision had faded away! The sweet «jx-ll broken—1 woke with a start, While an icy chill swept through my heart, And as over my senses (be sad truth stole; I struggled with grief that I scarce could control. I wept bitter tea's o er my wrecked ideal As I stood on the solid shores of the real. And now when I yearn with passionate pain For the light of inv beautiful dream again, 1 look beyond earth’s vanishing joys Whose brightness deludes, whose sweetness cloys, And lighted by Faith's sweet guiding star That brums o'er life's arid wastes afar, 1 catch a glimpse of yonder home Where my earth freed spirit may some day roam. No dream can e’er picture that heavenly laud, Or the rapturous joy. of its angel band; A home all radiant, bright and pure, Whose glorious light snail forever endure. No cruel delusion forme awaits Beyond its beautiful pearly gates, But v lien earth's wearisome ills areo’ei 1 shall bask in its sunshine forevermore. BELFOBT; THE IRON LANCE. A Thrilling Story of the French Revoluti m. Toward the close of the last century a dusty ti livelier, weary and lootsore, ap proached a small auberge close by the sea shore, in a lonely and romantic portion of the beautiful island of Martinique. Notwithstanding his slow pace and soiled attire, there was that about him w hich was well calculated to attract profound attention. His features and figure were cast in a mop'd of manly beauty so perfect, that, in the mere contemplation of them, his tired gait and un pretending habiliments were lost sight of to tally. He stood about six feet in height.and that his laliorious steps could readily be startled into the swiftest strides, became ap parent a few moments after he had caught a glimpse of the little inn: for scarcely had be turned the last angle of a rock that had shut it from his view, w hen a cr» for help, rising above the furious noise of carriage wheels, caused him to leap into the middle of the highway that had just opened upon him,and where, by a miraculous interposition of Prov idence, he arrived in the niche of time to ar rest the fatal coHrso of a pair of young horses t hat were lie -ring t© certain destruc tion an elderly gentleman, who was evident ly an invalid, and a lady, apparently his daughter, who h id already swooned away at his side. bo fear’e s, raDid and effective was this feat that the frightened animals, partially blown, through having had to toil up, as it were, a slight inclination in the road, were throw n on their liauoches before the only conscious occupant of the vehicle was aware of the presence of the stranger, and ere they \ had gained the least headway down a track ' which they were about to enter, and which would have led them within a hundred paces, sheer over the rocks. The strength must have been herculean that brought them so suddenly to a compl-te stand; and now-, as they stood trembling and covered with foam in the iron clutch of the dusty wayfarer, half a dozen peasants, that had been dunking rin ordinaire under the trees in front oi tbe auberge, surrounded the carriage, in their white cotton blouses and broad palm leaf hats, AV hen the traveler perceived the newcom ers, he requested one of them, a stalwart fel low who had stepped up to the horses' heads, to lay hold of the reins until he ass sted the gentleman, and the lady who had not yet recovered her consciousness. This reasonable and humane request was, however, met with a shrug of the shoulders and an intimation, couched iu no very polite terms, that the ‘‘aristocrats" might get down ana bold their Own horses, as the day of their power was over. The fact was, the leaven of tbe French Revolution had liegun to work in the island, i and it was now Incoming apparent that’ the | lives and properties of the privileged classes j were far from secure, and might at any mo- i ment, fall into the merciless hands of wdd and infuriated mobs. Tbe daring stranger.however. w ithout paus ing to analyze this state of affairs, turned | sharply upon the churlish countryman and denounced in no measured terms, his uncouth, j and ungenerous conduct The rebuff, though well-merited, was re- j reived with tokens of marked disapproba tion by the w hole party, w hile its more im mediate object, raising his heavy fist, aimed a blow at the head of the traveler that would have felled him to tbe earth had he not avoided it with the quickness of thought. The [jext instant, however, the peasant, •who had partially lest his balance through having missed his mark, was knocked sense less where he stood, by a stroke so swift and powerful irom the stranger, who bad relln- quislied.bis holdlof tbe horses, that his com panions gathered about him in the belief that he had been killed. In an instant aiierward they turned from him w ith murder in tbeir eyes, and fierce shouts of ’“death to the aristocrats'” But brief ns the perio-l of their abstraction had been, it afforded sufficient time for the stranger to leap into tbe carriage, seize the reins, and drive eff with the speed of the w ind. On finding their vengeance be;filed by his sudden disappearance, as well as that of the lady ai d gentleman to wfccrn he had render ed so signal a service, the party, including the crestfallen bully, who had regained his feet once more and whose name was Poussin, •Ami I\ o \v We Perceive lie." Stated iu Her Iloidior with I lie Spell I’pon Her,” retraced their steps to the wayside inn, and, resuming their glasses, began to comment on the incident which had just interrupted their drinking bout, and terminated so unpleas ant y. Pou.-sin, who was deeply mortified at the sadden and effective way iu which he had been disposed of, was silent and sullen at first but when the conversation warmed and when he had taken a long draught of tbe ex hilarating beverage before him, he exclaim ed, while he almost buried his fingers in the , wood of the table: “You are all cowards! Yesl all of you are cowards! Was there no knife or pistol among you to avenge the false, foul blow I received, when I was unable to do myself justice I" “Well, Pierre,” returned one of the party who had not been very vehement in his de nunciation of the aristocrats. “I think we should have been cowards bad we drawn either knife or pistol upon that brave gentle man: and as for the blow being foul, I don’t recollect having ever seen a fairer one.” “Oh. we all understand in what direction your sympathies lie. Master Claude Pirot,” returned Poussin. “And it’s my opinion you're not the person to intrust w ith any se cret such as the one now in your keeping. Nor should I be astonished it you were found to be in league with every aristocrat in the island, and were only a spy amongst us.” Scarcely had these words escaped hi- lips, when Pirot bounded to his feet, with the agility of a panther, and, dashed his glass and its contents full in Poussin's f ree. In an instant both men were clinched in a fierce s‘iuggle, while the landlord of the auberge rushed out to see what was the matter, but | drew back when be saw who the combatants were, ; Although Poussin was the taller and heav- i ier of the two, Firct was the more agile and i athletic; consequently, the moment his an- j tagonist closed with him, by a rapid and | adroit movement, he passed’ his arm about • his waist, and, raising him suddenly from j the ground threw him full length among Lis j comrades, to the total destruction ot the ta- | ble and every glass upon it. The landlord ! now began to eiy out. and bounding forward, j demanded pay for the injury to his proper- | ty: while Poussin, with bis face bleeding and lacerated from the broken glass, regaiu- I ed bis feet, and drawing a knife, sprang cnee more upon his antagonist with a mur- , derous yell. j Pirot was prepared for him; for, grasping i one of tbe le;.s of the broken table, lie met the deadly a-s mlt w ith a blow so terrific, that again the blood-thirsty villain was stretched senseless upon the earth. This second defeat of their comrade, w ho was a leader among them, was received Li the peasants with hut little more favor than the first; and Pirot, who was a comparative stranger to them, noting their sullen looks, paid the landlord for the damage that had been done, and, without another word, turn ed into a byway that led into the neighbor ing village, of which Pierre Poussin and his companions were at once the nuisance and j the terror. Close to this hamlet, there stood on a gen tle eminence that sloped down to the sea, one of the most beautiful villas in the island—the residence of a Frei-nb. nobleman of great wealth, who, in consequence of his feeble health, was constrained to leave his native land and seek a warmer clime. He already possessed large property i i more than one ol of the Caribbee Islands; but from the salu brity of its air and the loveliness of its scenery, he selected Martinique f or the resi d-nce of himself and bis charming daughter, Beatrice, now in her twenty-fir-t year, anl ono of the most beautiful and accomplished creatures i aginable. Count Henri de la Cour had long been a w lao i er: bi t. although comparat.v iy alone in the worio, he besought Beatrice, who w as an only child, not to sacrifice her hril l.'an prospects through accompanying him iuio a distant laud, but to remain in France, where she was certain to form a noble alii - ai.ee. But, so dearly w .s he Le aved by the fair girl that all his counsel and arguments wei e set at nought by her in this relation; ahho igh he never ceased to importune her, until he found her with all his household by his side- on the high seas. This sacrifice upon her part but served to ren ler her doub'.y dear to him, were such possible, and to induce him to lavish upon her every luxury and indulgence that affec- ti' n could promp>t,«or unbounded wealth be stow. As then, it was this lovely being that the brave stranger had rescued from almost certain destruction in mere than one quarter w e may readily couceive that the count,who ©occasionally drove out with her, unattend ed, was overwhelmed with gratitude for the important and opportune service that had just been rendered to bofn him and her, and that he was profuse tn his thanks to her de liverer, when the c il riase had left the an te g and the peasants far behind, Tiie moment the vehicle was, beyond the reach of danger, tbe stranger, Vviio gave his name a-Belfort, and who was dressed in a very simple guise, brought the burses to a h fit, leaped lightly out of the carriage, which was an open one, and throwing the reins to the count, raised his hat to Beatrice, and was I >st in an instant among some trees that skirled the way. His disappearance was so sudden and unexpected, that father and daughter looked at each other in blank sur- pri-e. They bad anticipated the pleasure of receiv'ng him at the villa where they should he able to ienew their thanks; but he wa gone! Beatri e, who had not recovered her con sciouscess' until Belfort had entered the car riage, had been surprised at the strange turn affairs bad taken The count however, had enlightened her on the subject iu a few words; but, as from her positf in on the back seat she had Iieen unable to catch a glimpse of the straDge driver’s features, and as the noise of the wheels, had she addressed him, would have completely overpowered her voice she thought best to reserve her expressions of , gratitude until they had reached the villa, which was distant from the auberge between four and five miles. Now kowevei, the soiled and dusty traveler had vanished from sight. But before he sprang from the vehicle their eyes had met and brief as the glance was a glow of sudden admiration overspread her f earn res, so impres:ed was she with the manly b auty of her deliverer and the ineff able grace with which he raised Us hat. Tbe setting -uu was up to his waist in the * Carribbean Sea, a maze of fiery splendor, w hen Claude Pirot, emerging from tbe woods through w hich the by-path led to the village, stepped out on a rocky eminence that over looked the shining world of waters. To bis left stood the magnificent Villa de la Cour, I its gables all afi ime in the dying day and the windows of i:s turrets flashing like'gigantic j*w els above the dark green foliage of the ■ orange groves by w hieh it was surrounde '. Overwhelmed with the two glories—that of the ssa and tiie land, as it were—he seated aimseif upon tbe lofty cliff and was socn lost in a reverie which was so profound that his , communion with himself, which was at times in a clearly audible voice, failed to arouse 1 him from it. i “Yes,” he continued after Suite indistinct 1 sentences, “it will be a at»Ud5er most foul. 1 and One that the Iron Lance from all I can , bear of him would never sanction. Although • the soul and the mysterious leader of this ap proaching tempest, this inevitable revolu tion, wt h.-Ae all been apprised that he i* averse to the spilling of blood, and ia cr.lv desirous of changing the form of tlb~ oppres sive government, for one more humane and liberal. The project is a just one and the wonder is that an individual whose identity is known to a jew privileged persons only, has created so perfect an organization and is capable of making his power felt almost in stantaneously- in any portion of the island. But what can he do toward controlling such ruffians es Pierre Poussin and the scoundrels that stick to him! To be sure they are, or profess to be, revolutionists; and so am I a r evolutionist but only In the sense understood by the Iron Lance. Shall I, then, conceal from the kind and noble Count de la Cour the infamous scheme that is afoot respecting him? Shall I, with tne knowledge that the vilia is to be sacked and burned to-night and ho himself and his lovely daughter left wel tering in their blood per ihance, by this infa mous bully and bis gang, pass on without re lieving myself of the horrible secret and ap prising the inmates of the scheme that has been set on foot for their destruction when the clock in one of their own turrets tells the hour of midnight? Oh! what would I not give for some mean 5 of conveying the dread ful intelligence to them without being known as a traitor ; for their fate is doubly sealed since the affair of this evening. Poussin will look for blood now that his own has been trifled with and will take instant vengeance on the Do la Cours under any circumstances, as he will attribute his humiliation by the brave stranger to their instrumentality, which fact will urge him on to the speedy consummation of the plot already concocted and the- final particular's of which were ar ranged a few moments previous to the occur rence of the runaway, or rather, just as tbe carriage Came in sight. When I saw the ruf or taken your fife an Lour ago rather than you should commit this infamous act. Oh, would to heaven that the Iron Lance were within bale of me now 1 for I feel 1 cannot be a traitor.’ The sun had disappeared totally although it was still light, ere Pirot arose to resume llis journey to the village. On turning to descend the cliff however,tbe first object that met his view was the dusty traveler leaning against an angle of the rock within a few feet of him and eying him most intently. He started in surprise and alarm at an appar ition so unexpected, and feeling sal isfied lhat much of what he bad just said had been over heard, he at once au dressed Belfort with much excitement and some anger. “Well, monsieur,” he began, taking a step forward, “you do not seem to be engaged at present so Bravely and so honorably as you were a couple ot hours ago, lor then you were acting open handed against a powerful antagonist and in the cause of humanity. Now however, you seem to have degener ated into an eavesdropper, else you would never have stood there so long in silence, listening to the communings of Claude Pirot, who thought he was alone.” At the close of this not over-friendly or judicious speech, Belfort stepped out upon the cliff and confron'ing Pirot, .replied, without betraying even the smallest token of anger: “l\hy, master Pirot, you owe me many thanks for my accidental presence here at this moment, for don’t y ou see, I have be come, w ithout any treason to this Iron Lance on your part, possessed of a secret which may prevent a heinous crime and teach this Potiss n a lesson that he may not forget eas ily. That he is a villain of the deepest dye I know, and when I stretched him on the earth this evening for bis brutality 1 was strongly tempted to put him from ever again concocting such fiendish schtmes as the one you have now been dwelling upon. But surely, that fall you gave him about an hour since, among the glasses of tbe auberge, and which 1 witnessed unseen, will pievent him from entering upon his diabolical project to night, at least, for 1 noticed bis face was terribly lacerated.” i*i %t perceived that there was no unfriend liness in the remarks of Belfort, and that per haps, alter ail, his sudden api earence on the cliff was providential, in as much as it might result in the He la Cours being apprised of the danger which threatened them without any absolute treason to the Iron Lance on his part. • irue, monsieur, a dreadful act is medita ted, and not infhe light of patriotism, as it as sumes to be, but with a view to plunder, and ouirage perhaps of a character more dread ful: for Pierre Poussin owes a deanlv grudge to the count, and has long borne the most evil intent toward his daughter. As, there fore, you know something of this matter, and without any breach of good faith on my part, j ou may act as you think proper; for be assured Poussin ana his gang will, this very night, make a descent upon the vilia with ail his disfigurement.” “And is he not afraid of this revolutionary- chief, the Iron Lance that you just wished within call?—for I learn his treatment of in subordination is at once prompt and severe, w hile his determination to avoid the shedding of blood, where it is at all possible to do so, is inexorable.” “No,” re joined the other; “he fearsneitber God nor man where hia own ends sre to be accomplished, and satisfied am I, that only the interference of a superior force, or the presence of tbe Iron Lance himself, wiff^pre vent the commission of the crime he now has in view. ” «=-. “But how can he hope to succceed with half a dozen followers, when the villa is well armed, ami its numerous retainers in these troublous times, are always on the watch?’ reitera'i d I! Ifort. “Haifa© zen followers!” exclaimed Pirot; “better : ay half a hundred, for doubtless, there arc evil spirits enough in and about the village that will be eager to swell his band when the moment arrives. And now that I come to remember it, within the last day or two, numerous suspicious characters have been noticed about the shore and among the rocks in these quarters; although some allege they arc smugglers only.” “Well,’ replied Belfort, “asy-ou are doubt less wending your way toward tbe village, let us thither together, and, as we have made each other’s acquaintance, we shall sup at mine host’s of La Hirondelie.” On Pirot’s acceptance of the proposition, after a moment’s hesitation, both parties descended the path and turned toward the village, that was barely discernible through the now g .thei ing twilight. Although the c-iand oi Martinique is fruit ful and beautiful in tbe extreme, and not withstanding its climate, at certain seasons of the year, is truly del'gbtful, it is the vic tim of one drawback which may be said to mar the happiness and the security of its in habitants—a poisonous serpent, called the Iron Lance, that haunts all its cool and love ly retreats. This reptile, whose fangs are most deadly, is swift and sure in its work of destruction, for in some instances its bite has been known to supplant instantaneously the happy and thoughtless smile on the lip of beauty with the sudden throes ana anguish of dfcath! There is not, in any di rection, fr®m the centre to tbe reacoast, a single spot free from its lurking presence and baneful influences; and hence it was that the name it tears was given to the mysterious personage who was the life and soul of the secret combinations that had set before them selves the task of overthrow ing the rule of the Bourbons in that portion of the world. The name, however, if applicable in one relation, was quite inaidniissi ile in another; for although this redoubtable chief was, like flan lying.senseless ou the ground,—although j t v ie serpent, alAost ubiquitous, end sudden iu Ifcuu i it necessary at the moment to sym pathize apparently with him and his com rades—I uttered an inward prayer that he might never open his eyes ia this world again. Oh! how wretched 1 am, and how I regret that I ever joined the secret and mys terious s'audurd of the Iron Lance. action he, on the other hand, was averse to inflicting any w*und that might prove fatal, and never, w here he could by any means avoid it, sacrificed human life in the progress of his revolutionary work. In fact, so clear ly w-as this latter recognized, and so general ‘ v appreciated w-as it l>y the aristocrats, _ as . “Tbit Poussin fly; teen hatching this in- | rtie ‘privileged ^XnimMite fernal project for some tinis certain,” still j white bis designs on £ them his thought and mutered Pirot, “for I got a ; supporters were c _ r rpAoisitirm’coin hint this evening that hit project had some- chivalry and tnagnai. mi’“*. ‘A 1 ’ , de - - - - 1 1 ■ — inancled their intense admirat’.ori, ana maae how lynched the ears of this mysterious ctitti i manoeu iu«i who, it is said, sent him orders not to attempt him tne theme frfajoufet , it tb c fallow it appears, ant-fripitting It reporto^, i . , y ' that the act will be the §£.al W a general who happened to have access tc turn, that as t,raising, had dare 1 to dl-rf^M the com-1 a man he was supremely fchndsome and not mandi that have reacted him, believing that yet part hi* twenty g > • * tn- his insubordination will be lost sight of in ; circumstance contributed to render his in^ the chaos sure to ensue, while he would enriched through the plunder certain to into bishanda. Oh, Poussin! Poussin! \oa m >nster! would that even I had maimed you be ■ coouifo doubly fascinating in the eyes of the fall fair sex: while so universal his popularity. [CONTINUED ON EIGHTH PAGE.]

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, January 29, 1881, Image 1