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CAPTAIN
SAZARAC
-By
Charles Tenney Jackson
Illustrations by Irwin Myers
Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrill Company
CHAPTER Vlll—Continued.
—l2
<* 'j n the days of Lafitte the world
Tvas straight as a switch,”’ trans
lated De Marlgny for the benefit of a
young American lieutenant, “and, look
you, Jarvis unfolds the pirate's flag.
Another crack at Raoul’s new friend—
the famous Sazarac!”
For the artist, as his amateur buc
caneers roared their chantey, shook
free the colors, and planted the staff
by Ilossiere’s table. A black banner
upon which was a grotesque skull and
cross-bones. Even Bossiere was con
vulsed with laughter at the grimacing
Jarvis’ antics. Then he uprose, glass
In hand. '. : i
“Well, then, to the buccaneers, my
good Jarvis! The old cry: ‘A-Barata
ria! A-Barataria!’” And then the
old seaman seemed to stare curiously
at the nearest of the pirate mummers.
Raoul’s eye was on him; the young
man caught a covert glance from Al
derman Dominique. But the shouting
tables saw nothing wrong. De Ma
ri guy was up and roaring.
“A flag! A flag, for the Seraphine!
A royal jest for Bonaparte when we
scale the cliffs of St. Helena, hale him
to sea, and run up the old colors of
the free rovers! 110, Jarvis, this is a
hit!”
A group was about the artist, drag
ging him to a wine cask to mount and
speak. But suddenly anew uproar
hurst from them all. One of the red
shirted masqueraders had sprung to
the rail, seizing the black flag to wave
It as he ran. And his song burst
forth—there seemed some new, warn
ing accent to the thing:
“Di terns M’sleu Lafltte—”
Above tbe hubbub De Almonaster’s
nervous senses caught a sound over
the rail. His covert glance to the
yellow river showed a deeper shadow,
then the flash of oars. He found Al
derman Dominique staring at him
hastily. Then, turning, he heard bare
feet pattering along the wooden slope
of the levee. But even when the first
of a curious crew appeared at the
gangway among the crowding serv
ants, hustling them aside, the rev
elers on the deck did no more than
roar appreciatively. ,
“Ho, Jarvis! More of your Jesting!
Faith, how many—”
Then De Marigny stopped. Gorgio,
the crayfish seller, was unwarping a
mooring line that held the Seraphine
1n the tide. And a huge mulatto
leaped from rail to deck; there came
a flash of a cutlass from another
figure.
“De Almonaster!” cried La Baire,
■“that is your hostler, Teton 1 This, is
not good taste!”
And suddenly, with a roar, a score
of burly forms rushed the rail and
B "ept among the guests. Forward
game a rattle of poles and blocks. A
shouted order from old Johanness of
the swamp; and the bow of the clip
per was sheering off the wharf. A
startled silence fell. The richly’ap
pareied gentlemen were staring as
the Seraphine’s bow caught the slow
current. De Almonaster grasped
Dominique In turn.
“They are here!”
The two caught sight of a tall
cloaked figure that had sprung to the
quarterdeck and turned calmly to
melee. Captain Bossiere
had leaped up shouting:
“Lafltte I Ton my soul—-the ban
dit !”
'•n from the barefooted fellows
' the old cry of a decade agone:
"A-Barataria! A-Barataria I”
' ofp with them!” roared old Bohon,
~° the work, bullies!”
The elegant young De Marigny, In
‘ • ■ ening clothes of broadcloth and
, stockings, was lifted and hurled
‘ the rail to the muddy levee. A
, or and flashed in Vilieret’s hand, and
“' as seized and thrown from the
‘ La Da l-8 ® sprang to the
• ouds with a warning cry to the
servants, but he, too, was propelled
And with yells and laughter the
tarians rushed, upon the retreat
■ - guests of the Napoleon ship.
Overpowered, borne back, the strug
f : ? gallants fought, but one by one
tue brawny hunters and fishermen of
cbenieres threw them from rail
1 deck - Tables were overturned, the
uing poles broken, lanterns fk.red
. -rnokily; and over the battle the
r ',me commander of the black Be
watched calmly. The pressure
brought De Almonaster almost against
him.
“Jeanl” he whispered; “you dared,
then?”
But a hand clutched frantically at
Raoul’s sleeve. De La Vergne was
borne past In the embrace of two
lusty fellows. “A mol!" cried the
youth. “Raoul, we are attacked!”
•“Nom de Dieu!” muttered Raoul.
“Nez Coupe, do not Injure himi’’
“Oter with Min 1”
There was a splash in the batture
mud. The ship was swinging wide In
the river flood. Jarvis came reeling
aft, staring back at his late fellow
guests and bon-vivants. Already ahead
came the snap of a loosened jib. Jo-
Imnness, the bo’sun, was shouting or
ders to fellows who were manning the
fore-figging. At the wheel stood Be
luche, one-time admiral of Crtrtagenn.
looking up to the break of the canvas.
And even ns De Almonaster gasped to
see how swiftly the plotters had
worked, each to an appointed station,
the last of the youth and chivalry of La
Nouvelle Orleans went over the side
to the levee mud.
Save one. Jarvis, the wit, had
seized his hand-painted Jolly Roger
and shook It toward the city. Then
hewilderedly he looked again at La
fitte. • . .
“Jean I What is this jest!”
“Next time you seek to amuse the
gentry of New Orleans,” cried Johan
ness, “do not allow Gorgio to choose
your players!”
Jarvis approached the master of the
Seraphine.
“It might be of Interest, Monsieur
Sazarac, iwhy I am here, why my fat
friend, Dominique, Is here?”
“My good Jarvis,. I wish you were
ashore —you and the councilor at {east.
-This is a serious venture, sir. We are
to the rescue of the English lady.”
The painter stared at him: “Why, I
thought she—you—she did not flee
with you after all? I may see her
again?”
“It lies with the winds of chance.
You are set on a mad venture, sir.”
Jarvis poured him more drink un
steadily. Ills captain stood frowning
at the long tables on the banquet deck.
Already along them wild spirits of
of the crew were cracking bottles and
making merry over the disordered
feast which had been spread for the
gentlemen-adventurers of New Or
leans. The older men were working
the ship safely in the broad reaches
of the river on a following wind, but
the others hardly gave way before the
under-officers.
“Eli, well!” bawled the town’s jester
suddenly. “Ho, slimy gallants. Ho,
drenched blades o’ the opera I —to-
“In the Bottle; I Am Lord Sazarac; I
Swagger, I Rescue—l Love.”
morrow, to celebrate the sailing of the
Napoleon ship there will be such a
scrubbing and hanging forth of furbe
low's and ribbons as will keep the
house mammies busied for a week!
Who Is In the mud, now—John Jarvis?
Mo 1’ aimin vous comme cochon—!”
But after the laughter that followed
him the author of It went aside to
stare ahead into the dark. De Almon
aster found him so, his pallor height
ened, his cheeks twitching. The mimic
seemed shaken with a fear as he
watched the bloom of shadowy sail
drawing him on to unknown venture.
‘‘l am to see her, Monsieur —and she
me?” he said plaintively.
"Monsieur Sazarac will rescue her
by force if needs be, John.”
The other nodded slowdy: "Yes—
Sazarac, always—Sazarac. Ah, name
o’ G —d: —to play one hour! To be
the poseur—to have the lover’s ges
ture, the pretty speech; and to tell
men: ‘Go there!—Come here!'—with
a mere glance that they obey I Think
of It! A Sazarac . . . Come, Mon
sieur, the cognac. It Is the refuge,
the adventure —and the dream. In
the bottle I am Lord Sazarac —I swag
ger, I rescue —I love.” He twitched
his’ friend’s sleeve dolefully: “She
must never see me ... I am the
ragged ghost out in the shadows, Mon
sieur —where her eyes cannot follow.”
He turned aw’ay, the sardonic mood
quite shaken from him. “B^low—the
emDeror’s chair, for Sazarac. The
THE DANIELSVILLE MONITOR, DANIELSVILLE, GEORGIA.
lady will cotne —for Sazarac. Sazarac
—who does not exist save in her
dreams! . . . Why should I not
play Sazarac for her? What right
has Jean Lafitte to this gallant, res
cuing role befere lier eyes?”
CHAPTER IX
A Question of Diplomacy.
They had been n roaring, unruly lot
forward until Beluche, ns second of
ficer, with Bohon and Nez Coupe, had
brought discipline, at times with the
threat of fist or marllnsplke. The
watches were picked and the mess or
ganized, and the desultory plundering
of stores and the finery left in disor
der by the gentlemen crew of the Na
poleon ship was sternly stopped. In
deed, three fellows who had a set-to
with the rum at once, were in the brig
by nightfall; und a trio more had
broken heads. But when the Captain
Jean, wltli Monsieur de Almonaster and
Dominique, went on Inspection during
the second watch, they were greeted
with cheerful and subdued respect.
The former second officer of the
Black Retral muttered to hia chief.
“There he sixty-four in all. Some
old artillerymen of Jackson's day at
Clialmette; some fo’cas’le lads who’ve
sailed wi’ David Porter and wi’ Deca
tur against the Tripolitans; some es
caped Britishers from press gangs—
and there be a score of oik old fel
lows, Jean. Men of Grand Terre, and
of Galveston Island, some wi’ the
President’s pardon —some not.”
The gaunt, shifty-eyed John Crack
ley, stepped from the line. “We have
made hold to ask, sir—under what
flag this ship—”
A rumble of laughter stopped him.
Aft, by the captaiiFs companion, hung
a stiff,-painted banner already fraying
in the gale. And by it, fast asleep,
sprawled the artist-jester who had
painted the thing to am us j the city
of the Creoles. 1 ■ . , >
But Lafitte stopped the levity. “We
shall attend to that. We are on a ven
ture the end of which will he dis
closed to you in due time.”
But when lie had dismissed them to
quarters, old Beluche voiced Ills
doubts. “Not a ruffian of them all
but thinks we are privateering again.
As to Napoleon, they would i oar 'with
laughter; and as to this rescue of the
English woman, well—you can load
them to that, but it Is plunder that Is
in their minds."
The chief looked thoughtfully nt De
Almonaster. When they sat again over
their brandy and coffee in the tapes
tried luxury of the emperor’s suite,
the young man adverted to It.
“We have the excuse, sir, that
Mademoiselle Lestron was unlawfully
seized out of the city. Only violent
action could save her. She must ex
plain the mystery of her abduction to
clear us with the admiralties —”
“The watch already reports a vessel
making south,” grunted Beluche. “And
the Genaron will he a clumsy lout In
weather that this clipper loves. The
mists kept the Englishman hid In the
passes, but out to’ sea we can pick him
up at our pleasure.”
Old Dominique twirled his thumbs
upon his stomach. He had declined
• take any active part in the ship’s
i ried organization, pleading’his gout
slid corpulence, but they had gibed
him well. '
“If trouble comes ofllnst —ns It will,"
grlnfted Beluche sourly, “you will still
be the worthy councilor of New Or
leans, eh? Bummeled aboard and off
against your will I 110, Dominique!"
“And you may yet need an honest
councilor to plead your cnn.se,” re
torted Dominique. “And you get your
selves into admiralty court, the big
wigs will he hard to convince this Is
not open lawless piracy. The Captain
Jean’s love-affairs —eh, well 1 Can you
get an advocate to speak them to the
magistrates of Jamaica, or even In
Charleston or New York!"
A lanky tousled form came reeling
under the rocking cabin lamp
"A magistrate!” chuckled Jarvis, "the
rum, old gabbler- -that Is the prime
magistrate! Since when did Domi
nique mewl of the laws?”
“Be still, Jarvis!” said Lafitte, “this
Is a serious council. The lady of the
Genaron is to he rescued —without vio
lence If we may. After that—"
"Bonaparte!” cried Raoul eagerly,
"that Is our one chance for fame, for
fortune and for extenuation! The
exiled emperor slipped from under
their noses and to sea on the fastest
clipper that Yankee brains ever de
vised 1”
“And after that, pray?” mumbled old
Dominique.
(TO BK CONTINUED.)
Relic of Old Superstition.
Ceromancy consisted of dropping
melted wax into water and divining by
the forms the wax assumed in cool
ing. It is a very old art, but tea was
only introduced into Europe in th
Seventeenth century; yet the primi
tive mind still subsisting in man at
once seized upon the tea-grounds as a
means of foretelling the fulure, as
that same mind had sei: and upon the
melted wax thousands of ;‘ears before.
Glacial Age 30,000 Years.
The period of ttie Glacial age has
been placed at 30,000 years.
(Prepared by the National Geographic So
ciety, Washington, D. C.)
The Vale of Kashmir has become so
famous as u name suggesting superb,
scenic beauty and delightful atmos
phere that It Is known to all the
world —as an epithet. But few of the
world’s densely populated beauty
spots have been so effectually Isolated
by nature’s barriers; and not nearly
so many Westerners have taken the
somewhat strenuous Journey into “the.'
Happy Valley,” India’s ldea[ summer
resort, ns have traveled to the sum
mer capital of India, Simla, which may
be reached after tile approved west
ern fashion by rail.
Kashmir, unlike most of the other
Indian summer stations, Is not on the
southern slope of the Himalayas. It
Is actually ninong those towering
mountains, and behind a portion of
them. In back of the barrier range,
passage of which, because of peculiar
geological conditions, is unusually dif
ficult, the great mountain masses
opened up, so to speak, to form the
celebrated Vale. This is a great level
valley, its floor a mile above the sea,
84 miles long and 2 broad, with fer
tile soil, abundant water, most of the
products of the temperate zone In pro
fusion, the whole surrounded by a
majestic wall of towering, snow
mantled mountains.
To the visitor the Vale can hardly
fail to bring thoughts of the legendary
valleys of the “Arabian Nights” into
which one could go only by the wings
o fa roc. Not many decades ago the
Vale was almost as safe from casual
intrusion, and eveh now that British
engineering skill has been brought*
Into play in road construction, the 200-
mlle journey from the nearest railroad
station at Rowalpindl, over the outer
Himalayas, is far from being an easy
jaunt. The geologic energies of the
present seem in league with the moun
tain-building forces of the past to pre
serve something of the Ilappy Vul
ley’s seclusion. The road Is con
structed over much •of Its extent
through a loose conglomerate forma
tion, and hardly a ruin occurs which
does not euuse Isolated bowlders -or
great masses of stone and earth to
fall to the highway. The toll of life
on this evanescent road is steady, .nnd
squads of laborers must ever be kept
busy opening the way afresh. The
road, superseding the old trails, was
the fruit of British nervousness at the
steady southward advance of Russia a
generation ago. By 1888 the Russians
had pushed through Turkestan and
the I'amlr to the northern border of
Kashmir, and the British felt the need
of a highway over which their troops
could move for the defense of this
Kashmir boundary. In the face of
most serious difficulties the road was
pushed forward In two years.
Srinagar an Oriental Venice.
It Is a distinct surprise to the vis
itor to discover In this valley far In
land, a mile high, and in the heart
of the mountains, a city that Is a
Venice of the East. Such Is Srinagar,
capital of Kashmir ..nd the greatest
city of the valley and the state. The
Jhelum river, fed by Icy springs from
the Himalayas, winds through the
Vale spreading out In several places
to form beautiful lakes. The “main
street” of Srinngar Is the river and
facing it Is the palace of the maharaja,
government buildings, and the dwell
ings of the prosperous and humble
townsfolk as well. Some 15,000 peo
ple live In boats on the river and the
numerous canals that intersect It, and
m ost of the traffic Is carried on by
water.
If one Is to spend some time In
Srinagar he rents not a house, but a
houseboat. Such a dwelling comes
“equipped” with the necessary oars
men. One completes his menage by
renting a kitchen boat manned by
cooks. Thus provided for, the visitor
may live a lazy enjoyable life, moving
his abode from one beautiful setting
to another.
Palace of the Maharajah of Kashmir.
Unfurlunntely the beauty of their
.surroundings does not seem to have
inspired the Kashmiri to attempt to
protect that quality and cleanliness In
themselves. Many of the people are
ns dirty and 111-kempt as those In the
ugliest slums of the East. In fact
Srinagar, away from its river high
way, Is nil too slumliko Itself with
narrow, dirty, odorou j streets hemmed
in by houses devoid of sanitary facil
ities. And as in all Eastern cities,
there are swarms of beggars.
Kashmir’s beauties do seem to have
inspired .art and trades that are es
thetic. The most famous of Its artis
tic products were the superfine cash
mere shawls that were the last word
in clothing accessories to the smartly
1 dressed women of the West two gen
erations or more ago.
Back in the reign of Napoleon Bona
parte, when that temporarily devoted
husband was looking for rare gifts to
please the fancy of his charming and
gracious wife, he bought one of the
most beautiful of the shuwls for lier,
and from tliut time on the Kashmir
shawls ran a long and brilliant course
nt the court of fickle fashion and
Srinagar developed an Industry which
kept the shuttle Hying through IG.OOO
looms In the state.
Beautiful Shawl Patterns.
About the same time AmeHcan
whalers and sailing vessels that wero
plowing the Pacific, exploring, numlng
and renaming Islunds In the South
seas, made their way Into the ports ol
India In order that the women wait
ing at home for the welcome sign ol
a sail might add to their collections ol
treasure one of those prized light
wraps which have become renowned
for the glowing harmony, depth und
enduring qualities of Its brilllunt
Colors.
One of the most beautiful of the
elaborate designs was the “cone” pat
tern; another general favorite being
the “ring” shawl, which, though not
at all transparent, is so soft that It
can enslly he. drawn through a finger
ring. Fortunate indeed was the wom
an who happened to possess one laden
with, the delicate embroidery which
made them so handsome and so costly I
The production of shawls in Kash
mir, however, hus fallen off within
the last 25 or 80 years and Is almost
non-existent today. The Frnnco-Prus
slan war sealed their doom, and tho
famine in India during 1877-70 played
havoc among the weavers. It Is suid
that If It were not for the fact that
according to the treaty between the
state of Kashmir and the British gov
ernment six pulrs of shawls of fine
quality must he paid yearly, probably
even the knowledge of the art itsell
would die out among the natives,
though It has been practiced since the
days of Emperor Baber, the first of
the Great Moguls, who ruled India In
the early part of the Sixteenth cen
tury. In those days and for centuries
afterward the beautiful shawl woven
nnd embroidered by the Kashmiri
maiden was the chief object In the
dowry she brought her husband.
The queer part of the story Is that
these exotic things are not made of
wool of sheep, nor do all the animals
live In Kashmir. In our every-day
parlance, the word cashmere is Incor
rectly applied to material made from
the finest grade of the wool of merino
sheep raised In Spain, but the real
product Is made from the soft, very
fine and short underwool of the slmwl
goat which lives for the most part In
the mountainous regions of Tibet
There are several varieties of this so
called wool, but on the finest of It the
maharaja of Kashmir has a monopoly.
Transportation a Drawback.
In addition to shawl-weaving the
Kashmiri have long been famous foi
gold and other metal work, embroid
ery, and for the production of that
most concentrated and costly of per
fumes, attar, from the roses that grow
In such profusion In this fortunate
valley.