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About The News and courant. (Cartersville, Ga.) 1901-1904 | View Entire Issue (July 25, 1901)
UNDER TWO FLAGS ~ y "° ui&a " He carves In Jvory. I suppose he has f .good sale for those things with you?” The Moor looked up in amazement. “In. ivory, niadame? He? Allah-il- Allah! I never heard of it. It is *trauge”— “Very strange. Doubtless you would liave given him n good price tor them?” “Surely 1 would; any price he should have wished. Do I not owe him my life?” At that moment little Musjid lot fall a valuable coffee tray inlaid with am ber. The noise startled Cecil, and his eyes unclosed to all the dreamy fan tastic colors of the place and met thosp bent on him in musing pity saw that lustrous, haughty, delicate head bend ing slightly down tin Ugh the many colored shadows. He thought he was dreaming, yet on instinct ho rose, staggering slightly, fyr sharp pain was still darting throif&h liis head and temples. “Madame, pardon me. Was I sleep- ( lug?” “You sv re—and rest again. You look ill,” she said gently. And there was > for a moment less of that accent in her | voice which the night before bad mark ed so distinctly, so pointedly, the line of demarcation between a princess of ! Spain and a soldier of Africa. “1 thank you. I nil nothing.” “1 fear that is scarcely true, ’ she answered him. “You look in pain, i though as a soldier perhaps you vi'l not own it.” “A headache from the sun, no more, i tnadame.” “That is quite bad enough. Your service must bo severe?” “In Africa, mlladi, one cannot expect indulgence.” “I suppose not. You have served long?" “Twelve years, madame.” “And your name?” “Louis Victor.” She fancied there was a slight abruptness in the reply, as though he were about.to add some other name, and checked himself. She entered it in the little book from which she had bank notes. “1 may be able to serve you,” she said as she wrote. “I will sjK'Ok of you to the marshal, anti when I return to Paris I may have an opportunity to bring your name before the emperor.” L The color flushed^ his forehead. “YotT do me much honor,” he said rapidly, “but if you would gratify me, madame, do not seek to do anything of i the kind.” ‘ And why? Do not you even desire the cross?” “I desire nothing, except to be for gotten.” She regarded him with much sur prise, with some slight sense of annoy ance. She had bent far In tendering her influence at the French court to a private soldier, and his rejection of it seemed as ungracious as it was inex plicable. At that moment the Moor joined them. “Mlladi has told me, M. Victor, that you art a tirst rute carver of ivories. How is it that you have never let me benefit things are" not worth a sou,” ! muttered Cecil hurriedly. “You do them great Injustice and yourself also,” said the grande dame more coldly than she hadTbefore spo ken. “Your carvings are singularly perfect and should bring you consider able returns.” “Why have you never shown them to nte at least?” pursued Ben Arsli. “Why uot have given me my option?” The blood flushed Cecil’s face again. He turned to the princess. “I withheld them, madame, not be cause he would have underpriced but overpriced them. He rates a trifling act of mine of long ago so unduly.” Ben Arsli stroked his great beard, more moved than his Moslem dignity would show. “Always so,” he muttered, “always so. My sou, In some life before this was not generosity your ruin?” “Mlladi was about to purchase that lamp?” asked Cecil, avoiding the ques tion. “Her highness will uot find any thing like it In all Algiers May 1 bear it to your carriage, madame?” be asked as she moved to leave, having made it her own, while her footman carried out smaller articles. She bow ed*in silence. She was very exclusive; she was not wholly satisfied with her self for having conversed thus with a Chasseur d’Afrique in a Moor's ba zaar. Still she vaguely fett pity for this man; she equally vaguely desired to serve him. “Wait, M. Victor,” she said as he closed the door of her carriage. “I accepted your chessmen last night, but it is impossible I can retain them on such terms.” A shadow darkened his face. “Let your dogs break them, then, ma iame. They shall not come back to me.” “You mistake; I did not mean that I would send them back. I simply de sire to offer you some equivalent for them. There must be something that you wish for—something which would be -acceptabfe to you in the life you lead?” “I have already named the only thing I desire.” “To be forgotten? A sad wish. Nay, surely life in a regiment of Africa can not be so cloudless that it can create In you no other?" “It is not. I have another.” - “Then tell it to me; It shall be grat; | filed.” ) “It is to enjoy a luxury long ago lost I forever. It Is to be allowed to give the i slight courtesy of ft gentleman with j out being tendered the wage of a serv -1 out." Site understood him. She was mov ed, too, by the Inflection < f his voice. Site was not so cold, not so negligent, J as the world called her. "I had passed my word to grant It. I cannot retract,” she answered him aft er a pause. “I will press nothing more on you. But, as an obligation to me, can you find no way in which a rouleau of go'ia would benefit your men?” “No way that I can rake it for them. | But, if you care indeed to do them a charity, a little wine, a little fruit, a few flowers (for there arc those among | them who love flowers) sent to the hos pltal will bring many benedictions on i your name, niadame. They lie in iu ! finite misery there.” I , “I will remember,” she said simply. “Adieu, Mr. Corporal, and if you should j think better of your choice and will al low your name to lie mentioned by me to his majesty send me word through my people. There is my card.” The carriage whirled away down the crooked street, lie stood under the tawny awning of the Moorish house with the thin, glazed card in ills hand. On it was printud: “Madame lit Drineesse Corona d’Arna gue, Hotel Coruna, Paris.” In the corner was written “Villa Al aussa, Algiers.” lie thrust it in the folds of his sash and turned within. • Do you know her?” he asked Beu Arsli. The old man shook his head. “She is tiie most beautiful of thy many fair Frankish women. I never saw lier till today. She seemed to have an Interest in thee, my son. But listen here. Touching these ivory toys, if.tliou , dost not bring henceforth ta me all the work in them that thou doest ahalt never come here more to meet the light of her eyes.” Cecil smiled and pressed the Mos lem’s hand. “I kept them away because you would have given me a hundred piasters for what had not been worth one. As for her eyes, they are stars that shine on another world than an African troop er’s. So best!” Yet they were the stars of which he ; thought more, as he wended his way j back to th-? barracks, than of the splen did constellations of the-Algerian even ing. Meantime the Princess Corona drove -homeward—homeward to where a temporary home had been made by her In the most elegant of the many snow white villas that stud the sides of the Saliel and face the bright bow of the simlit bay. She passed from her carriage to her own morning room and sank down on a couch a little listless and weary with her search among the treasures of the Algerian bazaars. “Not one of those things do I want — not one shall I look at twice. The money would have been better at the j soldiers’ hospital,” she thought, while I her eyes dwelt on a chess table near her—a table on which the'mimic hosts of‘chasseurs and Arabs were ranged ta opposite squa.drons. She took the white king in her hand and gazed at it with a certain interest. “That man has beeD noble once,” she thought. “What a fate! What a cruel fate! How bitter bis life must be! When Philip comes, perhaps he will know some way to aid him. And yet—who can serve a man who only desires to be forgotten?” Then, with a certain impatient sense of some absurd discrepancy, of some unseemly occupation, in her thus dwell ing ou the wishes and the burdens of a cotporal of light oa-valry, she laughed a j little and put the white king back once ! more in bis place. Yet even she set J the king among his mimic forces the very carvings themselves served to re - tata their artist in her memofy. There was about them an indescrib able elegance, an exceeding grace and beauty, which spoke of a knowledge of art and of refiifeifient of taste far be yond those of a mere military amateur in the one who produced them. “What conld bring a man of that tal ent, with that address, into the rauks?” she mused. “Persons of good family, of once fine position, come here, they say, and live and die unrecognized un der the imperial flag. It is usually some .dishonor that drives them out of their own worlds. It may be so with him. Yet be does not look like one whom shame has touched. He Is proud still—prouder than he knows. More likely it is the old, old story—a high name and a narrow fortune, the ruin of thousands. Well, it Is no matter of mine. Very possibly he Is a mere ad venturer with a good manner. This army here is a mixture, they say, of all the varied scoundrelisms of Eu rope.” The Moslem had said aright of her bea-uty. Many besides the old Moslem had thought it “the fairest that e’er the sun shone on w and held oue grave, lustrous glance of the blue imperial eyes above anght else on earth. Many had loved her, all without return. Yet, although only 20 years had passed over her proud bead, the Princess Corona d’Arcmgue had been wedded and been widowed. Wedded, with no other sentiment than that of a certain pity and acer- tain honor for the man whose noble I Spanish name she took: widowed tiy Ia death that was the seal ot her mar ■ riage sacrament and left her his wife only in name and law. The marriage had left no chain upon her: It had only made her mistress of wide wealth, of that villa on the Slcil ' ian sea, of that light, spacious palace dwelling in Paris that bore Iter name, of that majestic old castle throned on brown Estreraaduran crags. The death had heft no regret upon her; It only gave her for awhile a graver shadow over the brilliancy of her youth and of her beauty asd gave her a plea for that In difference to men’s worship of her which their sex called heartlessness, which her own sex thought an ultra refined coquetry and which was in real truth neither the one nor the other, but simply the negligence of a woman very difficult to touch and, as it had seemed, impossible to charm. It was not ambition that had allied her on hla deathbed with Beltram Corona d'Ama gue, but what it was tho world could never tell precisely. The world would not have believed it if it had heard the truth—the truth that It had been, in a different fashion, a gleam of something of tlie same compassion that now made her merciful to’a common trooper of Africa which wedded her to the dead Spanish prince. Corona d’Amague had been her brother’s friend, the only one for whom he had ever sought to break her unvarying indifference to her j lovers, but .for whom even lie had' pleaded vainly until one autumn sea- I son when they had staid together at a j great archducal castle in south Aus i trla. In one of tin 1 forest glades she I rejected for the third time the passion ate supplication of the superb noble. He rode from her in great bitterness, in grief that uo way moved her. An hour after he was brought past her, wounded and senseless. lie had saved her brother from imminent death at his own cost, and the tusks of "the mighty Styrian. Goar had plunged through and through his ft-a’ine as" they had met in the narrow woodland glade. “lie will be a? cripple—a paralyzed cripple—for life!”-said the'onp whose life had been saved by hisjdevotion to lier that night, and his lips shook a little under his golden beard as he spoke. “My God, what a death in life! And all for my sake, in my stead!” She was silenh several moments; then she raised her face, a little paler tliafi it had been, but with a passionless re solve set on it. “Philip, we do not leave’our deb s un paid. Go; teJl him I will le his wife.” “His wife! ’Now? Venetia”— “Go!” she said briefly. “Tell him what I say-.” “But what a sacrifice! In your beau ty, your youth”— “He did not count cost. Are we less generous? Go;jtell*him.” He was told and was repaid. Such a light of uuuttcrable joy burned through the misty agony of his never, it seemed to those who saw, .Gad beamed before In mortal eyes. At midnight, In the great, dim'magnificence of the state chamber where he lay and with the low, soft chanting ehapwl choir from afar echoing through the lo ceused air, she bent her haughty head down over,his couch, and the marriage benediction was spoken over them. “You are my own! Death is sweeter than lifer” he said. And before sunrise he died. Some shadow from that fatal and tragic midnight marriage rested ©n her dtill. Men thought her ordS .colder, only prouder, but they erred. She was one of those women who. beneath the court ly negligence of a ehiß manner, are ca pable of infinite tenderness, infinite no bility and infinite self reproach. A 1 great French painter once in Kerne, looking at lier from a distance,,shaded his eyes with hi* hand, as if kef beau ty, like the sun, dazzled him. “Exqui site! Superb!” he “She is nearly perfect, yoar Princess Corona!” “Nearly!” cried a Roman seuljtfor. “What in heaven's name can ’.she want?” “Only one thing!” “And that is”— “To have loved.” He had found the one flaw—and It was still there. What be missed In her was still wanting. Ito be coxiixuEa.) - j He Fell 107 Feet, and Lives- Sharon, Pa., July io—Andrew Hill, a painter, fell 107 feet from the top of a standpipe at the Sha ron Steel Works to the ground to day and sustained but slight injur ies. He was painting the stack when he lost his balance and drop ped like a shot from a gun. In his descent he grasped a rope, but the strands cut and burned his flesh to the bones. His muscles relaxed aud he went whirling over and over to what seemed like a certain death. Wheu he struck his fellow-employees ex pected to pick him up dead, a shapeless mass. He, however, was not even unconscious and except for some cuts on his head and a sprained back he came out uh scathed. It was against his wish that he was removed to the hos pital. Says He Was Tortured. “I suffered such pain from corns I could hardly walk,” writes H. Rcblnson. ol Hillsburough. Ills ~ “but Bucklen’s Arnica Salve com pletely cured them.” Acts like magic on sprains, bruises, cuts sores, scalds, burns, boils, ulcers. Perfect healer of skin diseases and piles. Cure guaranteed by Young Bros. 25c. FIREO THREE SHOTS, One Lawyer Shoots at Another In Rome. Rome, Ga., July 18. —An at tempt was made to kill Judge Geo. Harris on the street here at 2 o’clock this afternoon. Fortun ately the judge escaped harm, al though three shots were fired at him. His assailant was Halstead Smith, Jr., who was prosecuting a negro accused of stealing a cow 1 , which it is said, he sold to Smith. Judge Harris, in defending the negro, made some remarks to which Smith took exceptions. The negro was acquitted. When court adjourned Smith met Judge Harris in court house square, at Fifth avenue. Smith, who is a one armed man, assaulted Judge Harris, it is said, and drew a revolver. Smith began firing and after the third shot Judge Harris knocked the pistol from Smith’s hand with his umbrella. A negro, Cicero Hendricks, who was standing nearby, received one of the bullets in his side, inflicting a very painful flesh wound. Another negro, who was passing at the time, was shot in the hand. Halstead Smith, Jr., is the son of Hon. Halstead Smith, clerk of the city council of Rome, and a very prominent lawyer. Harris is ex-judge of the city court of Rome, a prominent lawyer and politician. He is also attorney for the South ern railway in this county. Fun on Wall Street. New York Times. A group of young chaps, looking and acting likecollege sophomores, took a stroll through Wall, street .Saturday afternoon satisfied with the world and looking for fun. Of a sudden one of them shouted: “There one goes! Catch It!” Instantly three of the youths made a dive for the gutter, and taking their straw hats off, tried to clap them over something on the asphalt. “Have you got it?” “No. There he goes.” Another hat would flap down on the walk as its owner shouted. I’ve got him.” “Now lookout. Get him under my felt hat and we can hold him.” Hurrying business men stopped and watched. Staid brokers hesi tated and were lost. Crowds blocked the sidewalk about the hunters. Curiosity routed busi ness. Every one wanted to know what it was all about. Finally the curiosity of a sweetly innocent youth overcame his reticence. “What have you caught?”' he asked. “Rubber! Rubber! Rubber!” an swered the hunters, aisd the crowd either laughed or looked sheepish; about half and half. For an hour on different blocks on different streets the fun makers kept up their joke. And on each block financiers and merchants-,, messengers and mere sightseers stopped and wondered, discovered the “sell,” and looked more than they said. ‘‘Fur an Wide-” July •‘New”' Lippincott. “Have you spent all of your life right here in this one place?!’ ask ed a stranger of an old fellow he came across seated on a rail fence whittling in front of a log: and slab; cabin in one of the back counties of Arkansas. “Not by a derned sight,” \yas the terse reply. “I been hyar the better part o’ the time, but, la, I hev travelled fur an’ wide.” “Ever been abroad?’’ “Wal, not eggzackly to say abroad, onless you call it goisu’ abroad to go from here way over to Petersville. I been over thar twice in the last forty year. It’s thirty-six an’ a half mile to Peters ville, an’ I been furder than that, fer my ole woman an' me went clean to Hogback Ridge on our weddin’ tower, an’ that’s forty-one mile from here. Then I been over id Pettis county to see my wife’s folks twice’ an’ that’s twenty-odd mile from here. Then I been over to Rocky Hill ez many ez four times,'an' that’s eighteen mile. Ez I say, I been here most o’ the time, but then I’ve travelled fur an’ wide all the same. I've seen the big four story mill over to Petersville an’ the engine kyars over to Peaville, I rid three mile on ’em an’ it's all I want o’ the pesky things. I’ve seen a calf with two heads an’ a feller that could eat fire and dance on broken glass in his bare feet. I see a man hung once, an’ a hoss race fer a purse o’ sixty-five dol lars. Yes, sir; I been fur an’ wide, and I reckon I’ve seen the biggest part o’ what there is to see in this world, an’ I don't low on doin’ no more gaddin’ about.” — ■ Your step has lost elasticity because your blood has lost vital ty, which Hood’s Sarsaparilla will restore. Hw Are Tear KMiefa Dr. Hobbi’ Sparasnis Pills cure ell kidney Ui. Sem ple free. 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