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CAPTAIN
SAZARAC
By
Charles Tenney Jackson
Illustrations by Irwin Myers
Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrill Company
“HE MEANT MEi"
SYNOPSIS —Under the name of
“Captain Sazarnc,” and disguised,
jean Lafitte, former freebooter
of Barataria. proscribed, returns
t tlie city of New Orleans. He
is recognized by two of his old
companions, Alderman Dominique
ami Beluche. At the gaming
tables Sazarac has won much
money from Colonel Carr, Brit
ish officer. John Jarvis, the city s
first bohemian of the arts and
letters, an old-time friend of'La*
fitte, tells of a woman’s face and
smile. As his last wager, Carr
puts up a woman, presumably a
slave. Custom compels Sazarac
to accept the stake. He wins.
His old associates and Count
Raoul de Almonaster accost him
as Lafitte. A project ot the
youthful adventurers of New Or
leans is the rescue of Napoleon
Bonaparte from St. Helena, and
a ship, the Seraphine, has been
made ready. From De Almon
aster Sazarac learns that the girl
he "won” at the<card table is
white, of high estate, and that
the matter has been made a by
word in the city’s resorts. Saz
arac finds Mademoiselle Lestron.
a fellow passenger on a river
steamer a few days before, and
with whom he had fallen In love,
is the girl and in chivalry fore
goes his revenge against Carr.
Jarvis admires Mademoiselle Les
tron. He is a witness of the
meeting and picks up a camellia
which the girl had thrown, un
noticed, to Sazarac.
CHAPTER lll—Continued.
“Ton word, fellow, you had the ef
frontery to show up, then?”
Something in the cold eyes of the
taller man stung through to his
drunken brain. “I will not fight you,
eh? Is that what you are thinking?
Of course not—of course not, Captain
Sazarac! I—of His Majesty’s Serv
ice, and you—not a gentleman in the
city could vouch for you 1”
“Colonel Carr,” put in the girl
steadily, “will you cease?” She
stepped nearer: “The gentleman but
wishes to depart. The house will be
aroused, the servants are gabbling
now I”
“You will excuse him, sir.” Mkdame
Carr turned to the stranger; and even
in her disarray, he saw that she was
matronly beautiful, but hollow-eyed
as one torn by ceaseless anxiety: “He
does not know of what he speaks.”
“I can speak that, Madame, that
would put all Louisiana in an uproar.
Langhorne, the consul, will open liis
eyes when —when—"
Kh a sudden furious movement
Mrs. Carr closed his mouth. He
threw her off violently. “Cease this,
Madame! I am not a child, or fool!
Already, about this crack-brained city
the clouds are gathering! From the
Sabine country the Spaniards—”
“Be still!” She checked him with
rising fury. In the moonlight her
eyes held the glitter of a tigress. But
the officer's drunken madness became
uncontrollable. , .
“To your rooms, you wcmen! Both
ef you! As for this man—” he turned
again, staring abruptly at the tall
cloaked figure; for the time, he had
forgotten him: “Bah! He is here be
cause—”
“We know,” put in the elder woman
coldly, “he has ruined you at cards—
everything. The consul has Informed
me of this humiliation beyond words.”
Carr was laughing evilly again.
“Eh, well ’ The pot-house gallants
sa ' v all. Oh, ho!—there were wa
gers that Captain Sazarac would not
even dare lift his face again at the
gaming-houses. He would find pre
texts, he would invent reasons—lndeed
it was a shabby trick to put upon—
ever, a packet gambler!”
There was a silence. Madame Carr
was staring at the stranger.
A hat is this, sir? I heard some
silly st r ry of the cardrooms—Madame
ies Trehan would not explain, but
there was comment, upon the prome
mi'le. today. Sir, as my husband but
shouts, laughing, will you enlighten
1155?”
Monsieur Sazarac stood with fold
irms. The girl In white was watch
*nS him doubtfully. Suddenly she
<*me nearer. There was almost
Pleading in her softness.
Tell me. There was some cruel
Jest put upon you, sir?”
Ihe stn nger would not answer,
laughed hoarsely, lurching
*gainst the tall.
"Tho Jest Is this, ladies! Upon the
packet triyv this mpn was all eyes for
one of you. Chagrined -flitt I would
not introduce him, lie was bent upon
breaking me at cards. He had the
luck of a cold devil even to the last
throw at Maspero’s. Eh, well, it was
but a Jest! The town chuckles over
it. I wagered him—against his win
nings of the packet, a bond girl of
our household. He took ii greedily—
ha-ha J”
“Sir, we traveled with no servant
save the public help,” the wife put In.
“That is true.” Carr straightened
up with drunken gravity. “But he took
the wager. He thought, evilly enough,
there was a wench of San Domingo—
fair as one of you. He was imbecile
enough to yenm for her glances 1"
“Your word, sir, if you recall?” said
Sazarac gravely.
“A jest! Who would deem it but a
cardroom jest!”
The stranger turned as if to escape
from an unpleasing situation. But
the elder woman suddenly came be
tween them. “But what is this curi
ous thing they whisper of along the
promenade? I caught a laugh, a pity
ing look!”
She swept scornfully upon her hus
band. “Did you, then, cheat at the
cards?”
Carr roared his mirth: “No—ou my
honor! There was no need!”
“The affair is done," murmured the
stranger. “Your pardon, Madame!”
But as he made to pass, Carr must
gibe once more at him. "Your wager,
sir? The prize you claim —which
was it?”
The silence grew acute. The two
women stared unbelievingly; the
younger turned widening eyes upon
the silent stranger.
“He told you—that?”
“Nothing, Mademoiselle. Allotv me
to depart!”
“He meant me! A girl of San Do
mingo! Bandied my name iu the
cardrooms--’’
“You were not mentioned, Mademoi
selle. I never knew your name before..
You will allow me to go, Mademoiselle
Lestron. It is enough—”
“It is not enough! You do not
know all, sir!” She turned swiftly
She Swept Scornfully Upon Her Hus
band—“ Did You, Then, Cheat at the
Cards?"
to the drunken colonel and struck him
sharply in the face. “You dared this!
You infamous coward I I —a slave of
San Domingo—”
Carr stood in an abject sobering.
"Louise, this is folly!”
“I shall speak I Whom could you
mean?”
“Eh? A jest! I said, a Jest—not
meant for anyone’s ears but his and
mine! He had the impudence to
come here —to claim —something—”
Carr settled back on the rail uncer
tainly.
“Something?” Miss Lestron turned
Icily to Sazarac. “Sir, and what?”
“I do not know. I had no thought
save to seek Colonel Carr and demand
satisfaction. The affair could have
been arranged at the Oaks with no
breath of the quarrel’s point. One of
us should die . . . the other’s lips
sealed In honor. Was that not enough,
Mademoiselle, for your protection?’’
Sazarac, the river gamester, saw a
curious light in her eyes. Grateful
ness, scorn, or the brief Interest in
this idea of protecting her, he could
not say which, for she turned at once
to the other man. Her voice flowed
on steadily but mounting to a peak of
implacable contempt.
“On the turn of a card, sir? You
played high—very high ... an
empire, perhaps, risked in a Chartres
gambling house!”
“Will you be still?” blustered Carr,
staggering forth. “A Jest —I said a
jest on himl Your name was not in
it! I said a slave girl. Bah—l will
go to Langhome and borrow a wench
to pay my debt, if that Is the issue!”
“You had best both be still,”
warned the older woman, frightened
now. “Louise, come —this is no mat
ter for a cardroom brawL Sazarac —
if he is vouched for as a gentleman
in this city, must challenge. 1 sup
poge—ah, God! He will challenge—' 1
And, passing them with high head bat
THE DANfELSVILLE MONITOR, DANIELSVILLE, GEORGIA.
tear-dimmed eyes, Madame Carr went
to her chambers.
“Bah," muttered Carr with sudden
drunken sleepiness. “Go home, Saza
rac I You, to your rooms, Louise! My
head aclies with all this ranting! It
was a jest. On Sazarac, because of
his taking my last farthing—on Lou
ise, because of her airs. Enough, it’s
done. Sazarac can challenge and be
d —d. He can send a second—if he
knows a gentleman in the city, which
is improbable—when I am sober. My
affair is In Langhorne’s hands. Now,
to bed!"
He staggered along the gallery. But
suddenly, with a shrug, a bow—a face
serene in the moonlight—Captain Sa
zarac addressed him.
“Sir, I am minded to recall my
words. Now, I shall claim my wager!”
“I say—to bed —” mumbled Carr
thickly. He reeled at his door, waved
a palsied finger at them and crashed
against the furniture within.
Miss Lestron stood at the balus
trade of the winding staircase as the
stranger was descending. A step be-
low he turned:
“I claim my 1 wager. Let them have
a care who put a jest upon me in this
town 1 The sea is near . . . and It
is wide. Wide. Mademoiselle, and
deep; and far —very far, is the way
to its secret places.”
“I do not understand.” She was
watching him intently. He had gone
to the next turn of the staircase. The
moonlight struck the silver of his
sword hilt. She leaned forth, and her
eyes struck fire frdm his own when he
glanced up. “Far?” she whispered:
“And It may be beautiful!”
lie watched her lips. The perfume
of the jasmined wall seemed to rise
from the court and engage her; she
seemed afoat in a purple sea formed
by the shadows. A lace, a form lumi
nous in the mists of his dark years of
remembrance. The soul of Ills youth
was stirring ... lie had dared
all, lost all, on decisions quick, hot,
pregnant as this, iu days long put
behind.
“I love you,” he said quietly. “You
will remember that.”
She heard his boot on the stones
of the court. He was passing the
pomegranate clump when he thought
something flashed near him in the
moonlight.
A white thing, a light thing—a
feather, a petal in the air. But he
saw no more, nor heard a sound from
above. He went to the untenanted
street, wondering if she had waited
until his footsteps died away. He
wondered why he had spoken; and
then he laughed. Sazarac, the packet
gamester . . . Jean Lafitte, last of
the sea-adventurers —ghost of a van
ished time, back to tread the streets
where his life was not worth the
flicker of a moonbeam In the jasmine
screen below her window.
After he had gone, something did
stir, A man crawled out from the
shadows across the area, went to the
gardened center of the court and
searched under the fig and pomegran
nte leaves. Presently he muttered
and straightened up, a white blossom
in his hand.
“Eh?” he said. "A camellia . . .
it has been In her hair. She was to
wear It to the opera, and Carr's orgy
tonight prevented. I would have seen
her pass . . . she would have
thought me a red-eyed beggar stand
ing by the areaway, but I would have
seen her pass.”
John Jarvis stared up at the silent
balcony. Then he, too, went his way.
“The Cafe la Veau Qul Tete —” he
grumbled. “I shall put on my old
waistcoat again to get drunk in.
Sazarac! D —n this Sazarac! A
flower from her hair, and the fool
did not see It! A flower for Sazarac!”
At the Cafe la Veau he entered by
the garden gate and went to sit
among the huge wine tuns under the
tiled shed. “Three measures of liquor
and I could paint a white camellia
against her hair, 1 ’ he mused; “but the
taproom and I together could not
paint love in her eye—for me.”
After that he sought a bench and
slept. Presently In came another and
by the same stealthy passageway. A
huge seaman, this, with broad hairy
chest, and tattooed arms. He exam
ined the sleeping painter, took off his
coat and spread it above him. “He
must be kept drunken and asleep,”
muttered Johanness. “The fcol would
shout It through the town—the Cap
tain Jean returned, and meeting us old
ghosts up from the Islands! Enter,
Old Silt-Nose! None here save John,
the taproom avocat. A howl from him
and he draws my knife point! Sit
quiet and await. Our host gave me
the keys and is abed ... be pre
fers not to know what he should not
know, like any wise man!”
"Jean, whom I painted at the
famous isle! Jean!"
tlu tiiL CUS'I'LK U&D.j
Glycerin Removes Coffee Stains.
A small bottle of glycerlh is an ex
cellent thing to keep in every store
cupboard, as it is Invaluable for re
moving tea and coffee stains from lin
en. Brush a little glycerin over the
stain as soon as possible after It is
trade, and It will come out in the wash
without any trouble.
Isthmus °f
Tehuantepec
1 - • • : *-
&S.A? . -V. • 7 rV:-7
.. * - . :
(Prepared by the National Geographic So
ciety, Wa-shinston. D. C.)
The rival of Panama when both re
gions were dependent on railroads as
connecting links between the Atlantic
and the Pacific, Mexico’s Isthmus of
Tehuantepec is not so Important now
that the canal is iu operation. But its
well-constructed, standard-guuge rail
road Is still carrying oa its concen
trated transcontinental way some of
the goods of the world when quickness
of shipment is the chief consideration
and a steamer trip of a thousand or so
miles’ is worth eliminating.
Cortez, conqueror of Mexico, was (he
first man to have the idea that the
Isthmus of Tehuantepec might solve
the problem of a passage between the
oceans. Even in the midst of his busy
life as warrior and governor he at
tempted to find a way across, and ex
plored the Coatzacoalcos river to Its
headwaters, lie did not find a water
passage across the divide, of course,
hut he realized that some day com
merce would pass through this relative
ly low, narrow region, and he asked
the king of Spain for a grant of lands
in the Isthmus. The request was
granted, and a few years ago his de
scendants still held the lands.
Baron Alexander von Humboldt, who
traveled in Mexico in the beginning
of the last century, saw at once the Im
portance of the Isthmus of Tehuante
pec and called It “the bridge of the
world’s commerce.”
Half a century ago the first attempts
were made to dig a canal, and many
railroad schemes were proposed from
time to time, including a “ship rail
way” for the transportation of vessels.
The first work on a railroad was under
taken by the Mexican government In
1882, but It was not until 1007 that the
Tehuantepec railroad wus formally
opened, after a succession of failures
and after years of unremitting lubor.
The road as it now exists is a well
constructed line about 120 miles long,
it is In fair condition even after years
of revolution and Instability in Mexico.
Sallna Cruz, the Pacific terminal, was
given excellent modem port facilities
by the Diaz regime, and became In
fuct probably the best port on the Mex
ican west coast. The latest loading
and unloading machinery was installed.
Puerto Mexico, at the Atlantic end of
the railroad, hud in the mouth of the
Coatzacoalcos river an excellent nat
ural harbor. ,
Great Oil Field There.
Along the Coutzacoalcos river Is a
Mexican oil field rivaling that of Tam
pico. Derricks pierce the sky on ev
ery hand and the bustle about wells,
and loudlng tankers gives an unex
pected Yunkee touch to his once
sledfiy tropical region.
Before the days of the pioneer and
forest roads, the Coatzacoalcos river
(the river of the Winding Snake),
emptying Into the Gulf of Mexico, %vas
the favored highway, and dug-outs
poled by dusky natives carried freight
and a few passengers up and down
the river and Its tributaries. Here and
there a narrow mule path trailing
away from the banks of the river
marked the entrance to some lonely
plantation or village. Today, however,
the new stands side by side with the
old. Fine steel boats run on the river,
but the native still poles up and down
in his dug-out canoe. Good roads and
mule paths have been made from one
plantation to another, but the old-time
ox carts have not yet been discarded.
The town of Coatzacoalcos, at the
mouth of the great river, has under
gone the greatest change. Once a ver
itable fever hole, it is now rapidly be
ing modernized and brought into some
semblance of sanitation. Long wharves
jut out from the wuter front, and
fireproof warehouses and electric
cranes give to the town a business-like
appearance.
From Coatzacoalcos the road gradu
ally begins to climb the Cordillera,
which divides the gulf slope from that
Cruciform Grave Near Mitla, Tehuan tepee.
of the Pacific. Much of the route lies
through wild and beautiful country,
with tall manaca palms (Attalea co
hune) and forest trees topping a thick
ly-matted jungle, and here and there
a quaint little Indian village on the
banks of a shaded, shallow river. The
picturenque Malatengo canyon, with its
rocky chasms, Is followed by the Chl
velu pass, entered at a height of 7115
feet above sea level,, the highest point
on the isthmus.
Modern Town of Salina Cruz.
Leaving the pass, the train crawls
down the Pacific slope of the Sierra
Madre, running along for some dis
tance by the banks of the Rio de Tehu
antepec, then cutting off across coun
try to Salina Cruz, the Pacific port.
Here the little Indian village of
years ago has given place to anew
town, built on higher ground and
dotted here und there with comfortable
bungalows, the homes of English res
idents.
Fierce “northers" rage on the isth
mus the greater part of the year, and
the long swell of the Pacific causes a
heavy surf. As no natural shelter ex
ists, It was found necessary to build
one—an outer refuge harbor, und an
inner harbor with dry-dock and
wharves.
The country through which the rail
way runs is In many respects of great
interest. The tropical nature, the many
different tribes of Indians living along
the rivers and In the hills, their pe
culiar customs and picturesque garb
furnisli an interesting study.
The different Indians today inhabit
ing the isthmus, descendants of once
powerful tribes, still show enough dis
tinctive characteristics to enable one
to judge of their ancestors. The
Agualulcos, Aztecs, Huaves, Mijes,
Zapotecos and Zoques are among these.
The Agualulcos and Aztecs dwell in
the northern part of the Isthmus.
Though outwardly conforming to the
Catholic religion, they still retain many
of their old customs and superstitions.
Among these Indians the memory of
Donu Marina, or Mallnche, as the In
dians called her, is still revered. Al
though acting as interpreter and guide
to Cortez, she seems to have been
greatly beloved by the Indians.
The Mijes live in the mountains to
the west, In the town of Nan Juan
Guichlcovl. They are exceedingly Ig
norant, bold, and rather repulsive in
appearance. History classes them as
having been at one time the most bru
tal and idolatrous of all the Isthmus
tribes.
The MiJcs Covet Mules.
The greatest ambition of a Mije is to
possess more mules than his neighbor.
Just why Is hard to understand, as
they prefer to carry their burdens on
their own backs.
They get good crops of maize, beans,
and rice from their rnilpas, which are
well taken care of, but they work fitful
ly, are great drunkaids, and very dis
honest.
The Zoques, who live in the moun
tains between the Chlchijapa valley
and the Rio del Corte, ure, like the
Mljes, very fond of tequllu, the nu
tive alcohol, hut'more Industrious and
of a more pleasing appearance.
The Huave tribe, now dwindled to
a thousand or two, live In a few towns
on the Pacific coast. They are very
different from the other tribes.
The Zapotecos. who inhabit the
greater part of the southern division
of the Isthmus, are hard working, gen
tle, and intelligent, and at one time
were a highly cultured nation.
The various Indian languages ure
now little else than 111-spoken dialects
pieced out with Spuulsh words and
sentences.
Somewhat below medium height, the
Indians possess unusunl muscular
strength. They are often able to car
ry for several hours on their shoulders,
under the rays of the tropical sun, car*
goes weighing from 100 to 200 pound*