Evening Star Newspaper, July 2, 1898, Page 19

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JULY 2, 1898-24 PAGES, thirty. Two or three’ officers still kept their feet, half.a detenseoldiers were yet firing into the 2a mm of the Prussian Guard Royal, numbering nearly 15,000 men. Outside the shattered windows dirty fin- gers clutched the stoner: coping. Already helmeted heads bobbed wp-here and there, inflamed Teutonic faces» leered into the church. There came thescrape of scaling ladders against the iwall; worse still, the rumble of artillery in the street close at hand. 7 One of the half dogen survivors glanced around the church. Itinwas a butcher's shambles. Then from the street came a shout: “Our cannon are.here! Surrender!” “Surrender?” repeated. Harewood, va- cantly. Then, as hecsaw a wounded crea- ture stagger up from the'floor holding out a white handkerchief, heirealized what he Stunned, the stepped back to :he altar as the firing died away. He saw the great doors open; he saw the street out- side, wet and muddy, choked with throngs of helmeted soldiers, all staring up at the door; he saw-a cannon limbered up and dragged away, the mounted cannoneers lcoking back at the portal where three dozen French soldiers had held in check 15,000 Germans. = A soldier, streaming with blood, rose from the floor of the church and stumbled blindly out to the steps; two more carried a wounded officer between them on a chair Then, as the German troops parted en the wounded man was borne out and down “I have not yet breakfasted myself. Shall we go in? She led the way into the dining room and closed the door. He put his arms around her and looked into her clear eyes, “Tt is bad news?” she said slowly. “Yes, Yoletti “Not--not about M. Harewocd?"* “No—I hope not.’ “Tell me, Cecil.” “Metz has surrendered; Bazaine and his y are prisoners. , Tears filled her eyes. “What else, Cecil? There is something else.” ‘Yes, there is. Le Bourget was carried by assault yesterday forenoon.” She sat down by the table, nervously twisting the cloth. He took a chair oppo- site, resting his chin on his hands. _ ‘Jim was there,” he said, after a silence. “Then—then—he——"" “Yes, he will come back to Paris, because the sortie has failed to pierce the German lines.” “He should have come back last night,” said Yolette. Bourke nodded silently. ‘And because he has not yet returned you are worried,” continued Yolette. Her hand stole across the table and his own tightened over it. 3 “He has been delayed—that's all,” said Bourke, making an effort to shake off his depression. “We will say nothing to Hilde about it.” “No, not to Hilde,” murmured Yolette. Red Riding Hood entered bearing the breakfast covers. Hilde came in a moment later and looked anxiously at Bourke. He smiled cheerily and began to read from the morning paper aloud how M. Thiers, who had been trotting around all cver Europe to enlist the sympathies of the great powers in behalf of France, had just returned from Vienna and had _ entered N FOR ING STAR. ‘BY.ROBT.W-CHAMBERS) that he was used to him, that he felt un- comfortable without him. So he came. Even a gutter cat, forcibly transported in- to distant parts, turns up again in its old haunts. Harewood’s company had become the jpaunt of the Mouse. So he came back o it. The wretched creature was nearly starved. Harewood drew him into the thicket beside {he Toad and gave him his E ss , | Jast morsel of bread and meat. le the church the officers were at | «tmbecile!” he whispered; while the He accepted an invitation and sat | Mouse gnawed the crust, squatting on his on the altar steps with his bit of | muddy haunches; “there may be Prussian ais dee bee. pickets anywhere along the fields. Didn't 1 : . ow it? wavering fare from the campfire fii- aid the Mouse, tranquilly, “there's the stained glass; the somber | a picket of Uhlans just ahead.” church were tinged with vio- ae Was startling news for Harewood. a ease S “Where?” he demanded, under his breath. ee are er on Seren ia| -AbOwY & Milomiater overs tieerwaee es ne crucifix was ba! in | plied the Mouse, jerking his thumb toward and again, only to stagger back under the blaze of rifle flame. Harewood, .on the roof, was a mark now for the German rifierren; bullet after bullet thwacked against the chimney behind which he “clung. He waited his chance, then crawled along the slates and dropped into the scuttle where the Mouse stood speechless with terror. It was time that he left. A shell, burst- ing in the cellar, had ignited the stored CHAPTER XNX.—Continued. ths of the and tered purple; 1 Paris with Bismarck’s kind permission. ie : >w. save where a single trembling | the southeast. He was going to add some- seems that M. Thiers had sounded England, ia i -ieied a a Planisphere of the Heavens, Showing the Positions of the Principal Stars which are Above the m of light. red as blood, lay like an | thing more when the sudden tinkle of a Russia, Austria and Italy and found them | potion July 1, 15, 31, at Bet pa, open wound across the pierced side of our horse’s shod foot striking stones broke out in accord with himself that an armistice the ket in th now; a night. Thi a y crouched low in the The road was lighter say shadow passed, a horseman trailing a lance. dying Lord He looked up into the vaulted roof, stone- should suspend hostilities for a while until ———- a @ national assembly could be convened and THE SKIES IN JULY deed, the cons’ ening. n is _populari y known terms of peace discussed with Bismarck 1 ig Hild as the Northern Cross. The northernmost apa soar en oon eee a ee and his sentimental sovereign. Hilde scarce- crineen Crome. The sorters turien He eat he four of campfires, | om UF, ute porate all catrving ‘tal ly listened. Yolette nibbled her toast and as Deneb, the “Tail.” It is| much the ‘crackde of damp log ee Ere ee can ee an gneie saddle boots. tried to understand a diplomatic muddle Se ee Cea at Sas mea) ae the crackie of damp logs, the serape and | "A°"Trarewood strained. Nis Coot eho ote on ried) toe anverstand yay dipioran soem nnale Braga the Sv and sometime can stamp and stir of horses, the deep | broke battered, deformed Outside in the street the newsboys were | Many Points of Interest to Amateur | remsinine tou breathing of sleeping men. He rose noise- | moon, across whose pale disk’ the fying crying, “Extra! Surrender of Bazaine! Fall Am rhe pen ditec Pee AG Cats ONO te SESE TES | a eutturaitvolee Barrens of Metz! Terrible disaster at Le Bourget EAchonnaes tail, as its name indica eed ssly ar A guttural voice began in German: Extra! Full list of the dead and wounded! \. ech tie heanver aoe — tresses, on ficche and gargosie, and on the | Then in’ hess Bourke tried to keep Hilde’s aitention; she of the Swan—foot of the Cross—is marked Guted fobes of saints and martyrs, peering |saten iq'he, moonlight Harewood caw Se a ee by star Beta, on the extreme right. fluted robes of saints and martyrs, peering | Speyer and Stauffer. clad inthe ufee, she had already bought and devoured. by -the star, Beta, on the ‘extreme right. Shere Swathed In’ thei Gtoska, law the | oyane, Sarbineers, “salute the Ublan officer as not hart. Beet tlereare the samen’: |T0 LOCATE THE CONSTELLATIONS | wines. “The ‘swan tics in the thick ot the whe swathed in ir cloaks, I; the | and hand Lim a thin packet of papers. The was not hurt. See! Here are the names. Milky: Way andils. fer thas ooteee De martyrs to be, not saints, but men, sick, | Mouse beside him trembled like a terrier She kent ter eves Gn Bones Bk Way andi freezing, starving things, called the 128th | at a rat hole; Harewood clutched his auc the long columns of dead visible or invisible to of the missing. When he finished They lay there like lumps w the naked eye. he. and stared at the group in the road. he said: on the church ; ae 5 Beta Cygni is a colored double star, wide a brief pariey, a word of cau- “Will he come back to Paris now? Classifying the Stars According to! enougn ent RepALMLGN Guaiiy Goeth oon, steps, in doorways—they nestled in the gut- | tion, then the Uhlans wheeled their horses “I hope so,” said Bourke cheerily. “Per elescipe" Tis Komponen eee ae ee ter, they huddled against doorposts, these | ard’ galloped back toward Paris, and the ae GED ae aaa a Their Color. deep blue. It is the most splendid object of elods of breathing clay—sodden and rag- | two traitorous carbineers struck off across What @ mess Trochu made of it at Le 7 its kind in the entire heave ged and filthy, sinful, lustful and human, | the meadow toward Le Bourget, then made Se Te peer enbarepieaiee sleeping their’ brief ‘sleep till the white |a demi-tour, and followed the bank of the was absent in Paris when slans fell on Le Bourget. the Prus- It's somebod: Of Particular Interest, dawn roused and summoned them home |Triver. Very cautiously Harewood crept out forever. Faint cries from the sentries, fainter sponses, the crackle and snap of logs a and the tall shadows wavering, all that he saw and heard. The carved stone gargoyles dripped water from every fantastic snout, the reflected flames played ever pillar and column, saint and martyr, cross and crown. All day he had driven thoughts of Hilde from him, but now, at midnight, when the lamp of life burns lowest and the eyes clese, and death seems very near — he wght of her, and lying down in the de the fire he questioned his At night, too, the soul, stirring in the bedy—perhaps at the nearness of God— awakens conscience. He had never before thought seriously of death. Its arrival to himself he had never pictured in concrete form. In the abstract often risked it, never fearing it, be- entally too inert, too lazy, to apply such a contingency to his own familiar body. Now, for the first time in his lif clesed his eyes and saw. himself, just lay, but + wet, muddy and_horri silent. He opened his eyes and_ looket soberly at the fire. After little» he i his eyes again, and again he saw “If lying as he lay, wet, muddy, mo- ss. as only the dead can lie. He had known fear er before the dull for boding that now crept into his heart. To open his ey. S to live; to reflect the image ed lids. At first he disdained off—this mental shadow that passed across his senses. What were true? He had lived. It \d selfishness stiflirg the sense of his responsiiility to the himself, to Hilde. To Hilde? He sat up in his blanket and stared into the fire. Slowly the comprehension of his responsibility came to him, his duty, all that due to her from him, all that he owed her, all that she should claim, one im in life or in the life to come. Die? He couldn't die—yet. There was something to do first! Who spoke of death? There was too much to do; there were matters of honor to arrange first; there was a debt to pay that neither death nor hell nor hope of paradise could cancel. Was death about to prevent him from paying that debt? He was walking now, moving aimlessly to and fro under the porch of the church. A sentry, huddled against a column, re- garded him apathetically as he passed out into the street. And always his thoughts ran on “If I have this debt to pay, what am I doing here? What right have I to risk death until it is paid? And if I die—if I die—" His Hilde territ thoughts carried him no further. pale face rose before him. He read accusation in her eyes. And he repea' Joud, again and again, “I must go back.” For he understood now that his life was no longer his own to. risk—that it belonged to Hilde. Nor would he ever again have the right to imperil his life un- til they had risen together from their knees before the altar as man and wife. He look- ed out into the mist, ruddy with the camp- fire glow. Would morning ever come? Why should he wait for’ morning? At the thought he caught up his pouch and blank- . strapped and adjusted them and stole into the darkness. Aimost at once he heard somebody fol- lowing him, but at first he scarcely noticed it. Down the main street he passed, over the slippery cobblestones, eyes fixed on a distant fire that marked the last bivouac in the village before the street ends at the Tuined bridge across the Moilette. It was @s he approached this camp fire that he realized somebody had been following him. He paused a moment in the circle of fire- ight and turned around. Nothing stirred in the darkness beyond. He waited, theu started on again, crossing the Lille high- Way to the line of bushes that marked the water's edge. No sentinel challenged him: he waded the ford below the wrecked stone bridge, tlimbed the bank opposite and started across a wet meadow, beyon uddy road to P: meadow he person was wadi ne ld hear him in the wi ; now the bank; the bushes he gravel. through the gloom. He hing; the silence Was absolute. Whoever was foliowing him ere somewhere in the unnerved, Harewood turned again ened through the meadow to the y. W he reached the road he could scar it, but he felt the mud and grave: beneath his feet and started on. in a moment he heard the footsteps of his follower, not behind now, but in front—be- tween him and Pi ly and drew h in utter s footfall close “Monsieur! “Ww ris. He stopped abrupt- volver. A minute passed m there came a soft a whining voice: id Harewood sharply. monsieur.”* In his astonishment the revolver almost fell from Harewood’s hand. “What the devil are you doing her demanded, “and why the devil are you sneaking about like this? Answer, you fool! I nearly shot you just now!” The Mouse crept up to Harewood as a 8 cur comes to his punishment. “Answer,” repeated Harewood, “why are you following me?” “I wasn't sure it was you,” muttered the Mouse. “What? wet?” I don’t know,” said the Mouse, sullenly. ee @foaazement turned to impa- ence. “You'd better answer me,” he said; “you €ertainly didn’t come here for love of my eompany.” But that was exactly the reason why the Mouse had come. The instinct of a sav- #ge cur for its master, the strange attrac- tion that decency and courage have for the brutally vicious, the necessity that dwarfed irtelligence feels for the. com- panionship and guidance and protection of healthy mentality—all these started the ae out of —_ a#s an abandoned mon- grel st: rts to find its missing master. ‘arewood understood this at last, and it touched him—not that the use ex- plained it. He could not have ex; even if he had himself comprehended the reason of his seeking Harewood. All he knew was this—that he missed Harewood, Why did you come to Le Bour- ; | file of men to arrest two captains of the jained it,,| to the road when the gallop of the Uhlans had died away. The Mouse stood beside him, an open clasp-knife in his fist, nostrils quivering in the freshening wind. Harewood glanced at the knife and said: “What are you going to do? Cut your way be Be ris? Come back to Le Bourget, you ‘00! Half way back across the wet meadow the Mouse asked: “And if we overtake Speyer “Are you the public executioner?’ said Harewood, sharply. “Put up that knife, I tell you.’ The Mouse closed his knife and plodded on in silence. After a while Harewood asked him about Bourke and Hilde and Yolette. But he knew little more than Harewood did, for he had left the house on the ramparts the morning after Harewood’s departure, and since then had been following him up. Morning was breaking as they forded the Molletter and answered the sentry’s challenge from the ruined highway. It was Sunday, the 30th of October—a desolate Sunday in a desolate land. They hurried through the main street, where sleepy reliefs were marching to replace the pick- ets along the river, and at last they reached the church, where a group of offi- cers stood on the steps in attitudes of de- jection. “Col. Marti \ cried Harewood, “send a carbineers, Speyer and Stauffer. I charge them with treason. Here is my witness.” He dragged the Mouse up the steps and led him forward. In haif a dozen sentences he told what he had seen. The Mouse nod- his corroboration, stealing cunning | Slances about him and shuffling his muddy shoes, partly to inspire self-confidence, partly because he appreciated the import- ance of his present position. “But,” said an artillery officer, “the car- bineers have already gone. I heard them breaking camp before daylight. “Gone! repeated Harewood. “They followed the river bank toward Blanc-Mesnil.” Before Harewood could speak again can- non shot from the end of the street brought the soldiers cut of the church on a run. At the same moment a shell struck a house epposite and burst. Col. Martin, now ranking officer in the Village, turned quietly to Harewood and said: “It I live to get out of this I'll have the carbineers before a drumhead court- martial. Are you going back to Paris?” “If I can,” said Harewood. “If you get there, have these carbineer officers arrested by the first patrol.” Harewood started again toward the river, calling impatiently to the Mouse to follow. The bombardment from the Prussian guns had suddenly become violent; shells fell everywhere, exploding on slate roofs, in courtyards, in the middle of the street. The Mouse, half dead with terror, shrieked as he ran, ducking his head at every crash, one hand twisted in Hare- wood’s coat, one shielding his face. “This won't do,” cried Harewood, drag- ging the Mouse into a hallway. “We've got to wait unl the bombarament stops. Here, break in this door. Quick Together they forced the door and en- tered. The house was dark and empty. Harewood climbed the stairs, groped about, unfastened the scuttle, and raised himself to the roof North, east and west, the smoke of tne Prussian guns curled up from the plain. In the north vast masses of troops were moving toward Le Bourget, cannonaded by the fertress of the east at long range. There was.no chance to reach Paris; he Saw that at the first glance. He saw, too, the French pickets being chased back into Le Bourget by Uhlans, and he heard the drumming of a mitrailleuse in the west end of the village where columns of smoke are from a burning house. Far away in the gray morning light the fortress of the east towered, circled with floating mist, through whi the sheeted flashes of the cannon played like lightning behind a thun- der cloud. And now began, under the guns of St. Denis and Aubervilfiers—almost under the walis of Paris—that first of a series of ter- rible blows destined to reduce France to a moral and physical conditjon too painful, too pitiable to describe. For the storming of Le Bourget made the commune a cete tainty, and, although the second and third attempts at anarchy were to prove abor- tive, the fourth insurrection was inevitable, and the political triumph of M. Thiers as- sured its success. As for the miserable village of Le Bour- get, it was already doomed. The black masses of the Prussian guard gathered like a@ tempest in the north, and swept across the plain in three columns. From Dugny, from Pont-Ibion, from Blanc-Mesmil, they poured down upon Le Bourget, firing as they came on. Right through the main street they burst, hurling back the Mobiles, sweeping the barricade and turning again to batter down doors and windows where, through the blinds, the soldiers of the 128th of the line were firing frenziedly. From the slate roof where he crouched Harewood saw the Mobiles give way and run. In a minute the interior of the village swarmed with panic-stricken soldiers. The Prus- sians shot them as they ran. The shells tore through them, and whirled them about as winds hurl gayly tinted autumn leaves. A battery, a mass of wrecked Iimbers, dy- tg horses and smashed guns choked the transverse alley. Behind it a company of the 128th fought like wildcats until the Prussian ‘Queen Elizabeth Regiment” took them on the flank, and bayonetted them to the last man. And now, from the west, two splendid regiments swept into Le Bour- get—the “Emperor Francis” and the “Em- peror Alexandre” regiments of the Prus- sian guard royal—driving before them an agonized mob of Mobiles, Franctireurs and lnesmen. The massacre was frightful. The Prussian bayonets swept the street: as scythes swing through ripe grass. and east the wage Was on fire. In th west the firing had ended, and the Uhlans capered frem garden to the frightened fugitives and “Hour Hourra! Mit uns ist Gott!" the north, however, the 128th still held out. The men had themselves in the stone houses lining both sides of the main street, and were ing from the windows into the thick of the Germans. The street swam with smoke, through which the Prusisans dashed South len, spearing shouti! | couple of dozen voltigeurs of the guard “RIGHT THROUGH THE MAIN fagots, and the first floor of the house had already begun to burn fiercely. “Come,” he said, “we must make a dash for the Church!” And he seized the Mouse, dragged him down the smoking stairs to the street door, and out over thé cobble- stones, where a group of officers and a were running toward the church, pursued by _Unhians. Up the steps and into the dark church they tumbled pellmell, Harewood and the Mouse among them. They closed the great decors, bolted and barricaded them with ber.ches, pews and heavy stone slabs from the floor. Already the voltigeurs were fir- ing through the stained glass across the street; the officers climbed beside them and enptied their revolvers into the masses of Prussians that surged around the church in a delirium of fury. Harewood, looking over the shoulder of an officer, saw the Prussian pioneers dig- ging through the walls of the houses across the street, saw the German soldiers pour Into the breach, saw them at the windows bayoneting the remnants of the 128th and flinging the wounded from the windows. From house to house the pioneers opened the walls. It was necessary to exterminate the garrison of each separate cottage, for none of them surrendered. ‘The house that adjoined the church was swarming with Prussian infantry. They fired Into the church windows, shouting, “Hourra! Hourra! Preussen! No quarter! The officer next to Harewood was killed outright. Two others fell back to the stone floor below. At the next volley five volti- geurs were killed or wounded. A blast of flame entered the church as a grenade ex- ploded outside a window. The Mouse, in an agony of fright, was running round and round the church, like a caged creature, looking for some chink or cranny of escape. A soldier was shot dead beside him, and the Mouse stumbled over the dead man with a shriek. That stumble, however, almost pitched him through the back of the east confessional, which in reality was a concealed door lea Ing directly to the rear of the church. The Mouse thrust his muzzle out, saw a gar- den, a dismantled arbor and no Prussians. His first instinct drove him to immediate flight. He crawled through the door on hands and knees, and wriggled into the arbor. Then came his second instinct—to { “He Sat on the Altar Steps.” tell Harewood. AVhy it was that the Mouse crept back into the church at the risk of his miserable life nobody perhaps can tell. It is true that frightened animals, when unmolested, often return to a companion in trouble. - Harewood was standing by a high stain- ed-giass window doing a thing that meant Geath if captured; he was firing a rifle at the Gtrmans. How he, a non-comtatant, a cool-headed ycuth, who seldom needlessly risked his skin, could do such a sg ter Jars only be explained by himself. In of capture he would not be harmed if he minded his. own business. But he knew very well that a swift and merciless justice was serzed troopa, ‘Yet there he ston, hone witha re he sti ring: the rest—e mere handful left STREET THEY BURST.” the steps, Harewood felt a tug at his elbow and heard a whine: “‘Monsieur—tnere’s a hole!” The next instant he stepped behind the confessional, crawled’ thtough the dwarf @oor and ran for his) life: CHAPTER XXI. The 3ist ef October. All day Sunday Hilde sat at her window, lcoking out over the gray Jandscape beyond the fortifications. Few of the forts were firing. At long intenvalsithe majestic re- verberations from Mont Valerien shook the heavy air. The southern forts were mute. At times she fancied that she could hear cannonading in the -north, far away to- ward Le Bourget, bat when she held her breath to listen the beating of her own heart was more audible, ; She slept badly that night; dreaming that Harewood was dead, and she awoke in an ecstasy of terror, calling his name. Yolette came to her and comforted her, curling up close to her in the chilly bed. But she could not sleep, and when at length Yo- lette lay beside her, slumbering with a smile on her lips, Hilde slipped from the bed and climbed the dark stairs to Hare- wood’s empty room. It was something to be in his room—it helped her to look out into the darkness. For he was somewhere there in the darkness. Shivering, she sat down by the window. On the fortifications below the unwieldy bulk of the Prophet loomed up, tilted sky- ward, a shapeless monster in its water- proof covering. Rockets were rising slow- ly from Mont Valerien. In the east the sky lowered, tinged with a somber lurid light, perhaps the reflection of some han Jet fired by the Prussians, burning alone at midnight. A wet wind blew the curtains back from the open window. Her little naked fect were numb with cold. The never-ending desire to see his room, his clothes, his bed again, came over her. She dared not Nght a candle—it was forbidden to those who lived on the ramparts—so she ro: and passed along each wall, toucaing the ob- jects that had been once worn by him. She knew them already by touch, his gray coat, his riding jacket, his hats and caps and whips and spurs. She rear- ranged the brushes and tojlet articles on his bureau, her light touch caressed his books and papers and pens where they lay on the little table. Then she went to the bed and buried her head on tha pillows, crying herself to sleep—a sleep full of vague shapes, a restless sleep that stole from her heavy lds at. dawn, leaving her to quench the fever in her eyes with tears again. It was the last day of October. Bourke ad gone away to the city before break- fast to verify an ominous rumor concern- ing Metz published in a single journal of the day before, and vigorously denied by the official journal. Yolette and Red Riding Hood were in the cellar storing more cases of canned vege- tables and mourning the loss of Schehera- zade, who had been sent on Saturday to the zoological gardens in the Jardin des Plantes. Bourke had insisted on it. Food was becoming alarmingly scarce: ‘rhere was no fresh meat to be had except horse meat, and even that was to be rationed the first week in November. The lioness had been carted off sorely against her will. She snarled and srowled and paced her cage with glowing eyes, in which the last trace of gentleness and at- fection had been extinguished. Hilde, deep in her own trouble, scarecly heeded this new one. Scheherazade had been changing in disposition ever since the first cannonading. Sullen, furtive, she haunted the depths of the &arden, ignor- ing Hilde's advances’ until Yolette began to fear the creature..s Soonow, when it was necessary to send the ligness away, Hilde said nothing, and Y¥. ette was not sorry, Mehemet Ali, the patrot! Sioberce screech- ed his’ remonstrance, whiéh amused Bourke, because Scheherazade was the first living thing that the vicioys.old bird haa ever shown any fondness fo eras f ited off to bo fea nigh men lioness: was sa y the government, end“Bourke improv. that opportunity by sending ‘Mehemet ve and the monkey algo,swhich made two mouths less to feed Down in the cellar tinned fruit and vé¥e' division wall, ‘aided By Red Ri At the child’s request rying the monotony, of their-'toil by telling a fairy story. Ric Hood listened ce rs Yolette posi we 2 nm le princess waited and -w: her dear prince, who had gone to fight ies wSre wait And-he did not return,’ know,” said the child, “what you mean.” “What?” asked Yolette, absently. “The prince: is ‘Harewood ‘and “the very: fieree—like Were-wolf,” she gaid. “Come, little one, we must ‘go to the kit. At the of the sta! 1 fault—that’s clear—and very safe to say,’ he added with an attempt at gayety that deceived no one. herself straight as an arrow not in Paris?’ “Good for you! “Let Metz fall, They all smiled a little. some of the gloom war office. The streets he traversed were filled with people, the Place Saint-Sulpice was black with a mob shouting and_gesticulating, It was impossible to approach the war office. The Place de I'Hotel de Ville, the square in front of the Louvre, the gardens of the Luxem: bourg were swarming with excited crowds, indignant at the ministry's suggestion of an armistice, which they considered pre- lMminary to the surrender of Paris—furious at the news from Metz and hysterical over “Down with the ministry! Resig: the disaster of Le Bourget. At 8 o'clock that morning the carbineers had marched into Paris, spreading the re- port that Le Bourget had been betrayed to the Prussians, that they had escaped after eroism and that the govern- ment was responsible for everything. Bourke, hoisting himself upon the railing looked out over the a window, where, hedged in by the bayonets of the tarbin- eers, Buckhurst sat, pale and impassible, Mortier had just finished a venomous oration, and Flourens, booted and spurred, had risen and was facing the mob. His handsome face grew red with excitement, his gestures became more vio- lent as the roar of approbation increased. Down with the govern- The speech was a passionate plea for the commune and a pledge that the prodigies of of the Luxembourg, vast throng toward beside Flouren: Vive Flourens! ment city would never surrender. “What is this senile ministry that should seek peace for us who demand war! when Metz was sold, when Le Bourget went up in flames? The day will-come when the government must answer to the commune, and the day of atonement shall be terri- e. war! war! What was its The uproar was frightful. shouted, ‘Vive la commune!” A mob of National Guards cheered them vociferously. In the midst of the din Buck- impassive face bent to meet the sea of upturned faces. The drums were silenced, the explosion of rifles ceased, the harsh yells died away. ‘he ministers,” he said, in a low voice, The govern- ment must resign. The commune is pro- claimed. Who will follow me to the Hotel hurst rose. Slowly his white, re at the Hotel de Ville. de Ville? There came a thundering shout, ‘“For- ward!” The throngs surged, swung back, and burst into cheers as the carbineers, drums rolling, bayonets slanting, wheeled out into the Boulevard St. Michel. Bourke followed the crowd, now almost entirely composed of National Guards, mo- biles, franc-tireurs and swarms of ruffians from Belleville. As they marched they bel- sinister blasts of the buglers, the startling crash of drums, the trample and chouting com- pandemonium deafening sound. As they poured through the Rue de Rivoli and flooded the square of the Hotel de Ville, Bourke saw General Trochu come out on the marble and wave back the leaders, who were al- lowed the ‘Carmagnole,” bined in one hideous ready smashing in the iron gate. Buckhurst ran up the steps and faced the governor of Paris. There was a sharp menacing gesture from Buckhurst, then he shoved the gov- ernor aside. In a moment the yelling pack swarmed into the splendid building. The ministers fled to the Salle @u Conseil and barricaded the door. Flourens set his car- Buckhurst let the mob loose throughout the great marble building and the,pillage began. The splendid rooms were looted, gilded mirrors smashed, fur- walls and frescoes torn exchange of words, bineers to guard it. nature mutilated, to atoms. (To be continued.) —_+ e+ His Hypothesis. From the New York Weekly. Mexican: American ‘tourist didn't notice it.” out from the churches?” Tourist—“Oh, yes, going 'round,” Red Riding Hood, who now always held when spoke of soldiers—for had not her died in uniform?—said in a clear voi the Prussians are in Le Bourget— said Bourke heartily. let Strassbourg down, let Le Bourget blow up, we are in Paris, two young ladies, a young. Red Riding Hood. Vive la France Bourke went out laughing, quite confident he had dispelled It was raining again. He buttoned his overcoat close to the throat and hurried away on his daily visit to the tumble an and price The carbin- cers discharged their rifles in the air and. the of steps “Big earthquake today.” ‘Was there one? Mexican—“‘Not you see zee people rush I saw that; but I thought maybe the contribution box was POSITION OF THE PLANETS Written for Tho Evening Ster. HE GREAT DIP- per will be found at 9 o'clock this even- ing high in the northwest. Follow- ing a continuation of the curve of its han- dle we shall strike Arcturus, well up to- ward the zenith a little north of west. At the same altitude ” in the east is the Ne equally brilliant * . iT Vega, in the Lyre. Between these two stars and nearly over- bead are Hercules and the Northern Crown. In the south may be seen the sparkling array of stars which form the Scorpion, Sagittarius and the lower part of Ophi- uchus. In the west Leo-is setting. In the east are the Eagle and the Swan. The Lyre may easily be located by means of its brilliant star Vega, or Alpha Lyrae. The constellation has the form of a tri- ergle, with blunted angles, each of its cor- ners being marked by a pair of stars. Although small, it. contains several inter- esting objects. To begin with the star Vega, this is one of the brightest three stars in the northern hemisphere, its riva! being Arcturus, just pointed out, and Ca- Pella, row below the horizon. It is diffi- cult to say which of the three stars is the brightest, because of their difference in color, Vega being bluish-white, Capella cf a pale straw color, Arcturus of a decided orange-yellow. According to Color. Stars are now classified according to their colors, or rather—what amounts to nearly the same thing—according to the characteristics of their light when analyz- ed with the spectroscope. The. white stars —known as “Sirian” stars, Sirius being the rost illustrious example—form the first class. They are the most numerous of the stars, more than -half of the stars be- ing of this color. Their “spectra” give evidence that they are surrounded by ex- tensive atmospheres of hydrogen, and they are probably the hottest of the celestial bodies as well as intrinsically the most brilliant. They are regarded by astrono- mers generally as in an early condition of world life—as juvenile suns, less adva.aced in development than our own luminary. ‘The yellow stars come next in the order of number and the second class. The spectra of thes€Btars very closely resemble that of the sun, being crossed like it by dark lines, which are now known to indi- cate that their enveloping atmospheres are made up of various gases and vapors of metals, hydrogen being one of the gases, but less abundant than in the Sirian star Arcturus is a fine example of a “solar” star. Its trum indicates that it is a sun in essentially the same cendition as our sun, though it is undoubtedly en enormously larger body, and ‘2 may imagine, without violating probabilit that, like our sun, it is surrounded with dark planetary worlds. As for Vega, :t is not so easy to conjecture what would be found to be the condition of things arcund it, could we approach it near enough 'o discover. it A Maltiple Star. Close beside Vega are two stars of the fifth magnitude, which form with it a small equal-sided triangle. The more northerly of the two is Epsilon Lyrae, sometimes called the “Doubie-double.” Even with an opera glass one can see that it consists of two stars very close together. Indeed; {t is an exceedingly pretty opera-glass object. If a telescope which magnifies not less than one hundred times be directed to this star, it will be found that each of its com- ponents also is double and a fifth star will be brought into view. A more powerful in- strument will show two other stvrs still— very faint ones—midway between the two seen through the opera glass. That is, this star Epsilon Lyrae, which to the naked I | eye looks no different from other stars of its brilfiancy, turns out to be a multiple star, consisting of not less than seven com: ponents. it is said that Sir William Hers chel, whose eyesight was remarkably keen, could see this star “elongated” with the naked eye. = ‘The two quite conspicuous stars which lie at the southern corner of the Lyre are Beta and Gamma Lyrae. Beta—the upper, as the constellation is now posed—is vari- able, ranging from the third to the fourth magnitude and going through its changes in a period of thirteen days. ma, at one of which it is less brilliant than at the other. This is a good star for the amateur star-gazer to keep an eye upon. Midway between these two stars is the famous Ring Nebula of Lyra, an object, however, whict: requires for secing it more erful instrumental aid _ the reader A dotted circle on the planisphere marks the position of a star which, though of oniy the fifth magnitude, has probably been talked about more than any other star in the heavens, unless ii is Sirius, namely GL Cygni, famous as the first of the stars to surrender the secret of its distance, or rather as the first of which this discovery was announced, by Bessel some sixty years ago. Note the position of the star with relation to the head and left arm of the Cross. A small triangle of stars will be found here, which an opera glass will bring out very prettily. 1 question is the uppermost of t — Its color ¥ deep orange. he nearest of th a se a now known, is Alpha Centaur otriutat® entauri, a b first magnitude star in the southern heat phere, situated too far south to be seen in the mean latitude of the United States. Its distance from us is three and one-third ‘light years.” This star mes, next. at a distance, according to the latest determination, of ‘somethi forty million-million miles, or, round num- bers, 400,000 times that of the sun— a distance traversed ‘by light in about en 3 It is a double star, con- sisting two orange-colored compo- nents of about equal magnitude—a pretty object for a smail tele The star's distance from. us being knc the distance apart of its two components lated, and the striking fact is by that, though to the naked ey through a field glass thi g gle, the two suns of which it consists are over 5,000 million miles apart. The Planets, Mercury has been an evening star since June 30. After the middie of the month st may be looked for near the horizon, a little north of west, twenty minutes or a half hour after sunset. Venus has brightened during the past month, and, though she has not yet at- tained to her full brilliancy, she is a splen- did object in the western sky during the early evening hours, She is still above the horizon at 9 o'clock. Mars is moving rapidly eastward. He has just entered Taurus, and is nearing the Pleiades. This planet is still a morning star, rising shortly before 1 am. Jupiter is still a magnificent evening star, the rival of Venus in brilliancy. He sets at about 11 p.m. Saturn, in the Scorpion some five degrees northward of Antares, is now south at 9 o'clock. Saturn is considerably brighter than Antares; the planet resembles Are- turus both in brilliancy and color—orange- yellow. It is now a fine object in the tele- Scope, the rings being en” nearly to their widest. It is still retrograding—mov- ing westward—slowl, Uranus is a trifle over one degree south and west of the star Beta Scorpii—the uppermost of three third magnitude stars seen at che right of Antares and Saturn. It can be seen easily with an opera glass. Like Saturn, it is retrograding. Neptune, in Taurus, rises at about 3 a.m. Today, July 2, the earth is in aphelion; that is, at its greatest distance from the sun. We are now 0,000 miles farther from the sun than we w on the Ist of January. e+ A Bascless Appe: From Life. Mr. Meeker—“But, Philipena, you don’t go the right way to work with me. You should appeal to the good and noble in “Mire. Meeker—“You wish me, then, to be silent.” The country woman is usually healthy and ro- bust. If she isn’t it is generally be- cause of her own ignorance or neg- lect. She it hard working wo- man, but her sur- roundings are healthy, and un- less she has some local weakness, she bears her heavy burden without serious 4 inconvenience. The trouble with too many country wo- men is that they do not sufficiently realize the supreme importance of keeping health: in a womanly way. A woman's gen health cannot be good if she suffers from local weakness and disease. in this way, the » Sickly, nervous, complaining invalid. Dr. Pierce's Fayorite Prescription cures all weakness distinctly femi- ly on these organs,