The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 2, 1902, Page 1

A VEELEY KNEW THAT lu‘\Ei HAD PROBABLY MORE THAN HIS MATCH lessly from his mouth and waved his hand in token of enforced submission. what do you want me to do? nded after a short pause. . “You seem to have me at your mercy. What are your terms? Father Beret hesitated. Sl atficult to anawers word as a British ofi- never again try to harm , not an open, armed enemy, M IS s the last instaliment of Maurice Thompson's great Rev- olutionary War story, “Alice of Old Vincennes.” By getting The Sumday Call of last Sunday and the Sunday before you have the whele novel complete in three edi- tioms. Buy them and you cam read this historical ron e built around real historical characters at your leisure. The special feature of this in- stallment aside from the last pic- tures of Byrom's serics of photo- graphic masterpicces of Virginia Harned's great play, made eape- cially to illustrate this’ story, 1s the plctures on this pnge, posed at Bushnell’s by Misxs Marguerita Syl- wa, the popular comic opera queen, and her leading man, Mr. D. 'Por- remce, both of whom are experts with the foils. Miss Sylva, indeed, is regarded as the best swords- woman on the stage, so that her comception of the character of the fascinating heroine of Vincennes is doubly interesting for that reason. To gown herscif picturesguely in full keeping with her idea of what rope and Amerien: “When Knight- hood was in Flowe by Cusnrles Major; “The Gentleman from In- diann,” by Booth Tarkington; “Trointed Gold,” by Mrs. C. N. Will- iamson, whose “Mystery Box." pub- lirhed a few weeks ago in The Sunday Call, was ome of the best storfes in this remarkable series; The Turnpike House,” by Fergus Hume, ete., ete. Just ponder over that list of books, as well as the names of the writers, and remember you get all those wstories free with The sunday Call. Can you beat 1tf not last. him so firmly that he made no farther headwa, he even lost some ground a ater. “You damned Jesuit hypocrite!” he snaried; ‘“you lowest of a vile brother- hood of liars!" Then he rushed again, making a mag- nificent show of st ., quickness and accuracy. The sparks hissed and crackled from the rasping and ringing blades. Father Beret was, in truth, a Jesuit, and as such a zealot; but he was not a liar or a hypocrite. Being human, he re- sented an insult. The saint] irit in him was strong, vet not strong enough to breast the indignation which now da: ed against it. For a moment it went down. “Liar and scoundrel yourself!” he re- torted, hoarsely forcing the words out of his throat. “Spawn of a beastly breed! Hamilton saw and felt a change pass over the spirit of the old priest’s move- ments. Instantly the sword leaping S gorge rose perversely. He | himself with lofty reserve and folded his arms. The dignity of a Lieu- tenant €overnor leaped into him and took eret correctly vhat he saw. My people have borne much,” he said, ‘and the killin that poor child there . ully a if T but say the x es, I can turn every Indian in this wilderness against you iba stngle gay. You are indecd at my mercy, and merciful yo P you will satisty my He was trembling with emotion whils he spoke and the desire to kill the man befors him was making a frightful strug- gle with his priestly consclence; but con- sclence had the upper hand. Hamilton stood gazing fixedly, pale as a ghost, his thoughts becoming more and more clear and logical. He was in a bad situation. Every word that Father Beret had spok- inter- (Copyright, 1900, by The Bowen-Merriil €o.) ATHER Beret said something. It was not compiimentary, and it sounded sulphurous, if not profane. Re- member, however, that a priest can the real Alige loo. the ‘extensive Goldstein & Co, alzo costunied Mr. T in order that you what = r the o wnderstand revolution Thke Sunday policy has worked in West- ern journalism read again some of the conveniences it afford It gives you the best fiction the day by the world—free—remember absolutely ing up-to-date features of any ‘oth- er magazine beside: te put your mame down ¢ the waiting list at the library:you 81 50 store for a movel th two or at tions of The Sunday Call. et all the news of the day besides. Therefore, newspaper, read The tor * Thomas Dixon Jr., first installment strong than e by fgr than sissippi Bobhle. from fhe very first chapter, which most baunting picture of the horror of war and carnage, of battle, murder and sudden death to the which shows how womn #nd won evén in the midst of war And over it all is the terrifying shadow of the freed dread alarms. “The Leopard’s Spots” ix wvivid romance of the South, the that. has ever been written bout the Civil War-—it is an his- torical revelation. after that come “The of Judas Iscariot” Dwight Baldwin, which has created & tremendous furer both in Eu- ed like she ran- wardrobe of stum who ence. will full markable Call's w ter, and Pe emphasis, ot writers of that lead- lending and all the You don hetad Shekx borrow frem a at the book o t you ean get three edi- And you most undergtood; for F Hamilton quick remd a Of lts strangen command of hi: called up aill hi: you must anday Call bhe Leopard's the un of which will be b Sunday. It The Cr r his guard “The Mis- It will thrill you ot said ab or priest-devil on that night brain. ularly priest Place guard silion. last chapter, B are wooed gi.des? ot only manship. Gos- by Amrom the strusgle, scarcely hope to be better r did actually make Simon pure remarks, when hard pressed. At all Beret said sanetning with and met The thought flitted electricall, his mind, while he deftly plrfle!, feinted, longed, giving his dark entagonist all could do to meet the play. Pri he thought. he cared not which, he woul reach his vitals presently. Yet there lin- gered with him a haunting half fear, or tenuous awe, which may have aided rath- er than hindered his excellent swords- than Hamilton to the finger tips by a draught of imperious pass.on, fairiy »l to the inevitable conflict. Alice could have seen her beautiful weap- « if she could have hcard the hing clink, clink, clink, while d forth dazzling even in the if she could have nay, the amazing pl , Tegaining cooiness to some extent, forces and fell cautiously deadly work, it would have been to change the to a flash of warm delight. uld have understood every feint, 1y, and seen at a glance how her Leret set the pace and led the at the beginning. She would have X ther Beret had taught her all she knew about the art of fencing. felt, and with.a sense the priest’s masterly weapon. caution and cleverness. Befgre he could adjust himself to such »ected condition he came near spitted outright by a pretty pass The narrow e it put him on his best mettle, sent vave of superstitution Ab, if noted the y as the cold shimmer of For The surprise escape, through his alled what Barlow had joc- ut the doings of the devil- at the when attempted to take Gaspard Was this, indeed, Father Beret, that gentle old man, now before him, or was it an avenging demon Roussillon the patrol us- from the aeToss est or devlld Youth forced age slowly backward in which at times spurts so furious that the slender blades, becoming mere glints of acicular steel, split the moonlight back and fo rth. up and down, so that their meetings, fol- lowing one anothet in a well nigh con. tinuous ; stroke, sent a jarring noise through the air. Father Beret lost inch by inch, untfl the fighting was almost over the body of Alice; and now for the first time Hamilton became aware of that motionless something #ith the white, lu- minous face in profile against the ground; but he did not let even that unsettle his fencing gaze, which followed ghe sunken and dusky eyes of his adversdry. A per- spiration suddenly flooded his body, how- ever, and began to drip across his face, His arm was tiring. A doubt crept liki a chill into his heart. Then the priest appeared to add a cublt to his staturs and waver strangely in the soft light. Behind him, low against the sky, a wid winged owl shot noiselessly across just above the prairie. The soul of a true priest is double—it is HER®R SHE TURNED ABOUT AND FACED M, POISING HER SWORD WITH FINE the soul of & saint and the soul of a | worldly man. What is most beautiful in this duality is the supreme courage with which the llln(l?’ spirit attacks the worldly and so often heroically masters it. In the beginning of the fight Father Beret let a passion of the earthly body take him by storm. It was well for Gov- ernor Henry Hamilton that the priest was #o wrought upon as to unsettle his nerves, otherwise there would have been heart impaled midway of Father rapler. little later the saintly spirit began to assert itself, feebly in- deed, but surely. Then it was that Fath- er Beret, seemed to be losing agility for 2 while as he backstepped away from Hamilton's increasing enerzy of assault. In his heart the priest was saying: will not murder him, ‘I must not do that. He deserves death, but vengeance s not mine. I will disarm him.” Step by step he retreated, playing erratically to mak an opening for a trick he meant to use. “Priest, devil or ghost!” raged Hamil- ton, with a froth gathering around his mouth;, “I'll kill you, or—"" He made a longe, when his adversary left an opening which appeared absolute- ly beyond defense. It was a quick, dex- trous. viclous thrust. The blade leaned u!‘ toward Father Beret's heart with a twin- kle Itke lightning. At that moment, although warily alert 28d hopeful that his opportunity was at h d: ‘ather Beret came near losing his ried Hamilton’s ., wh vited, thinking to entangle his blade and disarm him, he caught his foot in Alice’s skirt and stumbled, mearly falling across her. It would have been easy for Hamil- ton to run him through, had he instantly followed up the advantage. But the moonlight on Alice’s face struck his eyes, and by that indirect ray of vision which is often strangely effeciive he recognized :rx lying there. It was a disconcerting w{hx him, but he rallied instantly and sprang aside, taking a new position just in_time to face Father Beret again. A chill ‘erept wp his back. The horrpr which he could ‘not -shake off' enraged him beyond measure. Gathering fresh en- ergy, he renewed the assault with des- perate !te%e the highest product of absolutely melten fury. Father Beret felt the dangerous access of pawer in his antagonist’s arm, and knew that a crisis Had arrived. He could not be careless now. Here was a swords- man of the best school calling upon him for all the-skill and strength and cun- ning that he could command. Again the saintly element was near being thrown aside by the worldly in the old man's breast. Alice there seemed mutely demanding he avenge her. A riot- ous something In his blood clamored for 8 -quick and certain act in this drama by moonlight—a tragic close by a stroke of L p-r?du fi tice. :: e time he reasoned the case and quoted scripture to himself. “Domine, percutimus in gladio?’ rang through his mind. “Lord, shall we smite with the sword?" N {iton seemed to make answer to this with a dazzling display of skill, The raplers sang a strange song above the sleeping girl, a lullaby with coruscations of death in every keen note. ‘Hamilton pressed, nay rushed the fight with 2 welght and at & pace which could against his own seemed endowed with subtle cunning and malignant treachery. Before this it had been difficult enough to meet the fine play and hold fairly even; now he was startled and confuse but he rose to the emergency with ad- mirable will power and clevernes: “Murderer of a poor orphan girl " Fath- er Beret added with a hot concentrated accent; ‘“death is too good for you.” Hamilton felt nearer his grave than ever before in all his wild experience, for somehow doom, shadowy and form. less, like the atmosphere of an awful dream, enmisted those words; but he was no weakling to quit at the height of des- perate conflict. He was strong, expert and game to the middle of his heart. “T'll add a traitor Jesuit to my list of dead,” he panted forth, rising yet again to the extremest tension of his power. As he did this Father Beret settled him- self as you have seen a mighty_horse do in the home stretch of a race. Both men kne - that the moment had arrived for the final act in their impromptu play. It was short, a duel condensed and crowded into fifteen seconds of time, and it was rapld beyond the power of words to d scribe. A bystander, had there been one, could not have seen what was final done or how it was done. Father Beret’ sword seemed to be revolving—it was a halo in front of Hamilton for a mers point of time. The old priest seemed to crouch and then make a quick motion as if about to move backward. A wrench and a snip, as of something violently jerked from a fastening. were followed by a semicircular flight of Hamilton's rapler over Father Beret's head to stick in the ground ten feet behind him. The duel was over, and the whole terrible struggle had occupied less than three minutes. ‘With his wrist strained and his fingers almost broken, Hamilton stumbled for- ward and would have impaled himself had not Father Beret turned the point of his weapon aside as he lowered it. ‘Surrender, or die!” That was a strange order for a priest to make, but there could be no mistaking its authority or the power behind f{tf. Hamliton regained his footing and looked dazed, wheezing and puffing like a por- poise, but he clearly understood what was demanded of him. “Tf you call out I'll run you through~ Father Beret added, seeing him move his lips as if-to shout for help. q’he level rapier now reinforced the words. Hamilton let the breath go noise- en was true and went home with force. There was no time for parley or subter- fuge; the sword looked as if, eager to find his heart. it could not be held back another moment. But the . of the girl had m e of S nore power than the ra- S 13 point. t made an coward of him. S “T am willing to give you word,* he presently said. “-And et e ey e went on more rapidly, “I di af Der. - She was benind you - [oF 4R00t “Your word-as a British officer?” Hamilton again stiffened and hesitated but only for the briefest space, then sa Yes, my word a British officer." Father Beret waved his hand with im- patience. “Go, then, back to your fort and disturd my nesple nb Tore. The soul 8f this little girl will haung yon b e y amilton stood a little while gazin; R the face of Alice with the horrible et fulness of ramorse. What would he not have given to rub his eyes and find it ail a dream? He turned away; a cloud scudded across the moon: here and vonder in the dim town cocks crowed with a lonesome, des- ultory effect. 4 Father Beret plucked up the rapler that he had wrenched from Hamilton’s hand. It sugezested something. “Hold!"” he called out: scabbard of this sword Hamilton, who was ding vigorqualy in the direction of the fort. turned about as the priest hastened to him. 2 “Give me the scabhard of this rapler: I want it. Take it off. The command was not gently velced. A hoarse, half whisper winged every word with an imperious threat. Hamilton obeved. His hands were fiot firm: his fingers fumbled nervously: but be hurried. and Father, Berst soon had the rapier sheathed and secured his belt beside its mate. . A g0od and true priestiis a burden bear- er. His motto is: Alter alterius omera ortate: bear ve one another's burdens, is soul is enriched with the cast-off sor- rows of those whom he relfeves. Father Beret scarcely felt the weight of Alice’s body when he lifted it from the sromnd, €0 heavy was the pressure of his f. All that her death meant. not only to him, but to every person who knew her, came into his heart as the place of refugs consecrated for the indwelling of “glve me the