Newspaper Page Text
PAGE SIX
Cameron Dockeryjlfej
■ > ■ .. „
CHAPTER XI
Synopsis: Lotus, working
under cover for the FBI, se
cured a job as singer at Mlle.
Duval’s case. She received offer
from Herman Balch. Bundist,
and his associates to report
what was going on. Lawrence,
FBI agent, who was working
with her, had her tell Balch
that someone was working on
dope smuggling. When she
called at their apartment, they
took her to small isle, from
which she made her escape in
pirogue and found her way to
island owned by Curtis Corbin,
where she told her story to Mr.
Corbin and his son, Stacy, who
Lotus knew.
It remained bright and un
wavering, a beacon in the half
light of early morning. She kept
her eyes on it constantly, afraid
that if, for some reason, it went
out, she would lose her sense of
direction completely.
She poled on, never looking be
hind, not pausing until she had
put the palmettoed arm of an
island between herself and the
mouth of the bayou she had re
cently left. Then, for a moment,
she rested, taking in great heav
ing breaths of the morning-fresh
air and letting the pole act as a
rudder in the wake of the drift- j
ing pirogue
Then, suddenly, as though a
curtain had been lifted, the piro
gue rounded another tongue of
land and her objective lay before I
her. . . .
From the water’s edge, turf
sloped gradually, and topping the .
rise was a large mansion of the:
Greek Revival period. At first,
she thought it some freak of ar
chitecture, perhaps an Athenian
temple in the wilderness, but a
closer view showed it to be a
large, square house, with two
story colonnades surrounding it.
Relief surged over her at this
example of civilization. She was
too breathless to call out, but she
spied an opening into the en
closed area, and with a violent
shove of her pole sent the piro
gue heading for it.
The sudden thrust of the pole
made a sucking gurgle. The
young man sat up, he stared in
credulously at the picture of a
beautiful girl in a sequined eve
ning gown, poling a pirogue to
ward his swimming enclosure.
He shouted warningly.
Lotus started to speak, but the
words were knocked out of her.
Suddenly, with startling vio
lence, the pirogue struck some
thing beneath the w'ater. It ap
peared to tilt, to dip. She fell,
head first, hitting her shoulder
against the edge of the pirogue
with stunning force.
Down . . . down . . . down . . .
At last she turned and slowly
began to rise to the surface.
“Are you all right, Rosa?”
Breath was returning to her
with agonizing slowness. Some
one was pressing rhythmically
on her ribs, in and out, in and
out. Feeling returned to her body
—beneath her limp hands were
the smooth, white-painted pan
nels of the diving float.
She gasped, rolled over on her
back, felt the pain of her bruised
shoulder and opened her eyes.
“Stacy Corbin!”
“Almost literally in the flesh.”
“Oh, Stacy, I’m so glad to see
you!”
She was glad, she realized.
Even though Stacy might be in
volved in all this himself, he
looked wholesome, and civilized,
and cheerful, and glad to see
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her.
He grinned. “I’m not used to
having mermaids turn up in my
own private swimming pool—it’s
quite a treat—you look just like
one, you know.”
“Guess I blacked out. I know
how’ to swim, but it was all so
unexpected that I didn’t have a
chance to get my breath.” She
rubbed her shoulder tenderly and
! winced.
j Stacy was beside her in an in
stant. “Say, you’re going to have
a nice purple mark there in a
few hours. Hurt any place else?”
“No. It’s just a bruise, I sup
pose.”
“Belle Fleur,” Lotus repeated
slowly when Stacy Corbin an
nounced the name of the house
“That has a pleasant sound—
was it your idea?”
He laughed. “Goodness, no!
Do I look as though I’d pick a
fancy French title like that? It
was named in 1835 when it was
built.”
“It doesn’t look that old,
Stacy.”
“Oh, Rad had it completely re
stored from cellar to attic. He
had a pair of architects come
down from New York to do the
job.” A queer, sardonic grin lit
his face. “It got us in bad with
the local element—they thought
we should have employed some
one from New Orleans who knew
the family history.”
She turned to him in surprise
“You mean you bought it di
rectly from the family?”
"Yes. They didn’t want to let
it go either.”
“What do you mean?” i
“Well, it was a perfectly legal
business deal, but they didn’t
seem to take it that way. You
see, they had just formed a com
pany to manufacture bagasse.”
“Bagasse. What’s that?”
“It’s the residue of sugar cane,
the fibrous part; they use it to
make wallboard.”
“It ought to be popular stuff
now, with a housing boom on.”
“It is. I don’t know but what
they got the best of the deal,
after all. But we got Belle Fleur.
You see, Dad had a lot of people
buy stock in the company, then
he bought it from them at a
higher price, which gave him a
controlling interest. When the
■owners found it out, they were
] pretty excited and willing to do
almost anything to regain con
’ trol of their company. Os course,
they never should have distrib
uted so much stock, in the first
place.”
“They don’t sound very busi
! nesslike.”
He grinned impishly. “Well,
they didn’t expect some of the
} original stockholders to sell. And
they probably wouldn’t have,
either, if they’d known it would
give Dad a monopoly. But he
hired a lot of people to buy it up
for him. Dad’s pretty clever when
it comes to a business deal.”
Whispered words came back
to Lotus, as though the curva
ceous Chloe Duval were stand
ing beside her:
“Clevair like the fox. Theirs
ees the old-world desire for pow
er. Eet brings only trouble and
disaster, eet benefits no one, nor
even those who reap financial
reward. You weel see.”
“But that doesn’t explain how
you got Belle Fleur.”
“Oh, they gave it to Dad in ex
} change for his shares of stock.
He’d been looking for an old, his
torical plantation place, but none
of these sunk-in-tradition fam
ilies would sell. He had to put
the pressure on them.”
curiously. “Say, I never - asked
you how or why you got here?”
She pointed to the still-burn
ing beacon atop the belvedere. “I
followed your candle in the win
dow.”
Stacy gave it a quick, approv
ing glance. . . .
"Say, that thing’s a great idea,
isn’t it? We had it put there be
cause Dad and I still can’t find
our way around with the motor
boat after it gets dark. You can
see that from any direction and
head for it.”
As if to make up for his lack
of curiosity now, he peered at
jher from under his fine, light
brows. “How did you happen to
pop up in this neck of the
woods?”
“It’s a long story,” she said
wearily.
“It must be.”
He studied her for a moment.
“Look, Dad’s up at the house and
he’ll want to know all about it,
too. Let’s go up and get you some I
dry clothes and have breakfast,
then you can tell us both over
the couch-coush caille.”
In spite of herself, she laughed
“Heavens, what’s that?”
| “Our Acadian cook makes it.
It’s just a French name for corn
bread and clabber, but it’s good. ’
i As Stacy Corbin led her up-}
stairs to a guest room, Lotus had'
a hurried impression of an ex
pensively and tastefully furnish
ed home, completely restored to
its former elegance, from the
marble mantel of classic design
to the fine details of carving on
the solid cypress doors.
He opened the door into a
room filled with a massive ma‘
hogany four-poster and appro
priate accounterments for a
lady’s bed-chamber.
“If you don’t object to a shirt
and slacks, I think I have an
■outfit that may come near your
size.”
, “Anything would seem more
lapproprite than this evening
igown.” She indicated the se-|
1 quin sheath which still clung to j
]her tenaciously.
Stacy made an appreciativei
chirping sound.
i “More appropriate, maybe, but [
not half so becoming. I’ll be back i
in 50 seconds flat.”
Stacy knocked a moment later, i
Through the door he handed her
a soft white sports shirt, white
flannel slacks, socks and a pair
of sneakers.
“They’ve only been worn one
time,” he explained. “But it wasi
some of the ersatz war material
and it shrank like the dickens. |
The sneakers were left here by]
a friend of Dad’s—maybe they’ll j
■ fit. Come downstairs when you ■
are dressed. I’ll be waiting.”
Stacy was waiting for her at
the foot of the great stairway.
His eyes sparkled with approval.
“You look like a little girl in
that outfit, Rosa. Wait until Dad
sees you. He’s eating breakfast
—let’s join him.”
Lotus didn’t know quite what
she had expected, but it was not
what she found.
Time had made Curtis Corbin
a caricature of his son. He was a
larger man, but the clean-cut,
youthful lines that were Stacy’s
had been rounded by age and
self-indulgence. His hair, the
same ash blond as Stacy’s, was
white at the temples and the
eyes were darker than his son’s,
with a flint-like quality which
betrayed his keen business sense.
That was a polite term for it,
Lotus thought. The area around
his irises was netted by fine red.
lines which gave him a slightly'
debauched appearance.
“Sit down and have some !
breakfast,” he urged. “Stacy has i
been telling me something about
you while he waited. I can see
I’ve missed something by not
visiting the famous Case Duval.”
“I hear you have a story to
tell,” he said finally.
“Yes, I don’t know what to do
| —whether to go to the police or
i not.”
“The police?”
His eyebrows rose in twin arcs
just as Stacy’s did. “Just a min
ute.” He motioned to the sullen
eyed Negress who was serving
them. “That will be all, Lobelia.
I’ll ring when I want you.”
When the girl had gone, he
turned his hard eyes on Lotus.
“Now—”
She told them of her relation
ship with Balch, of the conversa
tion she had supposedly over
heard in the case, of her going
to the house on Decatur Street
and subsequent events. She had
watched their expressions care
fully to note any hint of sur
prise. There was none.
"And you were thinking of go
ing to the police?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“What would you accuse these
people of— kidnapping?” His
sharp voice was tinged with sar
casm.
“Well ... I don’t suppose I
could really—”
(To Be Continued)
THE SUMMERVILLE NEWS: SUMMERVILLE, GA.
sunday school lesson
THE STRUGGLE AGAINST
BAALISM
International Sunday School
Lesson for May 11, 1947
Golden Text: “Hear me, O
Lord, hear me, that this peo
ple may know that thou, Lord,
are God.”—l Kings 18: 37.
Lesson Text: I Kings 18: 20,
21; 30-38.
For four centuries Judah ex
isted under an almost unbroken
dynasty, including some very ex
cellent kings. As a whole, how
ever, these kings were very
wicked.
More wicked than Jeroboam, or
all the rest, was one named
Ahab, with whom we have come
to associate the name of Jezebel,
his wicked wife. This couple is
one of the most despised in all
history and literature. Jezebel, a
heathen woman, brought the
worship of Baal into the land
and altars for the worship of
Baal were established all over
the kingdom. At one time, it is
(said, 400 priests of Baal were
cared for at the palace and ate
at the queen’s table.
Ahab was the king in Israel
about the same time Jehosaphat
ruled in Judah. He was the suc
cessor of a series of wicked kings,
most of whom reigned briefly
and with disaster, although:
Omri, the father of Ahab, was :
a vigorous and able executive.
Ahab was married to Jezebel,
daughter of Ethbaal, a former
priest of Baal, who had seized
the throne of Sidon.
The great prophet, Elijah, a j
native of Galilee, was living in |
Gilead, the mountainous region ]
east of the Jordan, when God ■
brought him the message of im
pending drought and disaster for
Israel.
“The fact that Elijah’s high
prophetic mission was entrusted
not to a dweller in a royal city
or prophetic school, but to a I
genuine child of the deserts and
forests of Gilead, is in exact ac-
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cordance with the dispensations
of Providence in other times,”
says Dean Arthur P. Stanley.
i “So the unity of God was as
serted of old by the wandering
chief from Uri of the Chaldees;
by the Arabian shepherd at Si
naj; and (without offence, it
may be added) by another Ara
bian shepherd, in late ages, at
Mecca and Medina. So, in the
spirit and power of Elijah, came
John, the son of Zacharias in
. the same wildernes whence Eli
jah came, and whence he final
ly disappeared, sustained by the
■ wild and scanty fare of the des
ert, clothed in like rough and
i scanty garb, calling the nation
to repentance by the same
strange appearance, and by the
same simple preaching.”
We are told in the scripture
how during this period of
drought the people of Israel were
punished but Elijah was fed by
the brook Cherith through the
miraculous interposition of Je
hovah. The record says that the
“ravens” fed him, but the He
brew word so translated might
equally as well be interpreted to
mean “dwellers in steppes,” or
Arabians.
At length, Elijah was sent to
Zarephatt, where he found a
; widow with great faith and
: whose small supply of oil and
meal was increased by divine will
to care for her and the prophet.
It was while staying here that
Elijah restored her son from
death.
One of the most dramatic
events in the whole Bible is the
■contest between Elijah and the
i priest of Baal on the top of Mt.
Carmel. The great prophet of Je
hovah challenged these pagan
prophets and, as the record very
interestingly portrays, it was a
great victory for Elijah as the
representative of Jehovah,
j However, his victory caused ■
the Queen, Jezebel, to threaten 1
his life, and this great prophet}
fled to avoid her anger. It was
during this period of surrender
that the angel appeared to Eli
jah under a juniper tree and
comforted him.
“The problems of life are not
solved by men who are lying
down. Schopenhauer, Nietzche,
I Bernard Shaw, sitting comforta
bly apart from the hard tasks
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To me the most wonderful word
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MOTHER.
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Thursday, May 8, 1947
and active service of human so
ciety, become pessimists of the
33rd degree,” says Charles R.
Brown.
The problems of life are being
solved by men and women who
j eat and sleep, who look up at
the stars and down at the flow
ers and then march breast for
ward in some useful employ.”