The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 2, 1902, Page 3

' ‘ ’ THE SUNDAY CALL. ©Of course he was thinking of Alice—he really could mot think in any other di- rectidn: but it gave him a shock and a start when he presently heard her name men d by a little Frenchman near him on left. “There never be another such a girl ost Vincennes as Alice Roussillon,’ the fellow said in the soft creole patoi § to think of her being shot like a & man who calls himself a another. “Ah, as vor of burning him capture him. That's me!” wussi,” chimed in 2 third poor girl must be avenged. o shot her must die. Holy t Gaspard Roussillon were d by Governor, tc for myse allve when wc here; T saw him just after in great fighting temper, man. Ouf! but I should not like to be el Hamilton and fall in of that Gaspard Roussillon!” I should say not. You may of a chance like that! T seeing Gaspard handle the Ah, that would be too him up for shooting Alice.” could scarcely hold himself erect by the fence; the smoky; fOEEY landscape swam around him heavy and strange. He uttered a groan, which brought Oncle Jazon to his side in a u' avez-vous? What's the matter?” the old man demanded with quick sym- pathy. v they hit ye? Lieutenant, air ye hurt much?" Beverley did not hear the old man's words, did not feel his kindly touch. “Alice! Allc he murmured, *“‘dead, dead!™ “Ya-as,” drawled Oncle Jazon, “T hearn about it soon as T got Inter town. It's & sorry thing, a mighty sorry thing. But mebby I won't do a little somepin’ to that — Beverley straightened himself and lifted his gun, forgetting that he had not re- loaded it since firing last. He leveled it at the fort and touched the trigger. Si- multaneously th his movement an em- re opened and a cannon flashed, its nked on either side by a crackling . e bullets struck ters into Oncle A cannon ball knocked 2 ridge pole from the roof of a house hard by, and sent it whirling through the air Ventrebleu! — et apres? Wgat the devil next? Better knock a feller's eves out!” the old man cried. “I ain’t doin’ nothin® to ye!” He capered around rubbing his leathery face after the manner of a scalded Beverley was struck in the breast by 2 flattened and spent ball that glanced from a fence picket. The shock to stagger and drop his gun; ickly picked It up and turned to s companion Oncle Jazon?” he in- u hurt? bit—j skeert mos’ into a duck zht a cannon ball had knocked whole dang face down my throat! Nothin’ but a handful o’ splinters in my poorty cou ance, makin’ my head feel like a porc’pine. But I sort o' thought I heard somepin’ give you a biff.” » g did hit me,” said Beverley, d on'his breast, “but I don't 2 bullet. They seem to be range at last. Tell the men nder cover. They must not expose themselves until we are ready to ree” ck had brought him back to his eader of little company, the funeral bell of all his life’s tolling in his agonized heart ed afresh to directing the fire upon se. time a runner came from 1 an order to cease firing and g party of British scouts ain Lamothe re-enter the fort A strange order it seemed to and men; but it was implic- itly cbeved. Clark’s genius here made snother fine strategic flash. He knew unless he let the scouts go back into the stockade they would escape by run- ning away, and might possibly organize en army of Indians with which to succor Hamilton. But if they were permitted to go inside they could be captured with the rest of the garrison; hence his order. A few minutes passed in dead silence; then Captain Lamothe and his party marched close by where Beverley's squad was lying concealed, It was a difficult task to restrain the creoles, for some of et & and with both office @ them hated YLamothe. Oncle Jazon squirmed like & snake while they filed past all unaware that an enemy lurked so near. When they reached the fort, lad- ders were put down for them and they began to clember over the wall, crowd- ing end pushing one another in wild haste. Oncle Jazon could hold in no longer. “¥Ya! ya! ya!” he yelled. *“Look out! the ladder is & fallin’ wi' ye!” Then all the lurking crowd shouted one mean, &nd, sure enough, down came & ladder—men and all in a crashing heap. “Stlence! silen Beverley command- ed; but he could not check the wild jeer- ing end laughing, while the bruised and frightened scouts hastily erected thelr ladder egain, fairly tumbbling over one enother in thelr haste to escend, and so cleared the wall, falling into the stockade to join the garrison. “Ventrebleu!” shrieked Oncle Jazon. “They've gone to bed; but we'll wake ‘em up at the crack o’ day an’ give 'em break- fas’ o' hot lead!” Now the fighting was resumed with re- doubled spirit and nolse, and when morning came, affording sufficlent light to bring out the “bead sights” on the Kentucky rifies, the matchless marksmen in Clark’s band forced the British to close the embrasures and entirely cease trying to use their cannon; but the fight with small arms went merrily on until the middle of the forenoon. Meantime Gaspard Roussillon had tled Francis Malsonville’s hands fast and hard with the strap of his bullet-pouch. “Now, I'll scalp you,” he said in a rumb- ling tone, terrible to hear. And with his $ wordas came out his hunting knife from its shesth. *“0 have Roussilion!” “have mercy “Mercy! yes, like your Colonel's, that what youwll get You stand by that forban, that scelerat, that bandit, and help him. Oh, yes, you'll get mercy! Yes, the same mercy that he showed to my poor little Alice! Your scalp, Monsieur, if you please! A small matter; it won't burt much!” “But, for the sake of old friendship, Gaspard, for the sake—" ff! poor little Alice!” But I swear to you that I —" “Tout de meme, Monsieur, je vals vous scalper maintenant.” J In fact he had taken off a part of Maisonville’s scalp, when a party of sol- diers, among whom was Maisonville’s brother, a brave fellow and loyal to the American cause, were attracted by his cries and came to his rescue. M. Roussillon struggled savagely, in- sisting upon completing his cruel per- formance; but he was at last overpower- ed, partly by brute force and partly by the pleading of Maisonville's brother, and made to desist. The big man wept with rage when he saw the bleeding prisoner protected. “Eh bien! I'll keep what I've got!” he roared, “and I'll take the rest of it next time.” He shook the tuft of hair at Maisonville end glared like a mad bull "wo or three other members of La- tiothe's band were captured about the mercy, my d@ear Monsieur cried the panting captive; @ e e Ly | Another great book l i to be had without cost. ftr—— % . same time by some of the French mili- tiamen; and Clark, when on his round cheering and directing his forces, discov- ered that these prisoners were being used as shields. Some young creoles, gay with drink and the stimulating effect of fight, had bound the poor fellows and were fir- ing from behind them. Of course, the commander promptly put an end to this cruelty; but they considered it exquisite fun while it lasted. It was in broad day- light and they knew that the English in the fort could see what they were doing. “It's shameful to treat prisoners in this way,” said Clark. *“I will not permit it. £hoot the next man that offers to do such a thing!” One of the creole youths, a handsome, swarthy Adonis in buckskin, tossed his hapely head with a debonair smile and. d: “To be sure, mon colonel, but what have they been doing to us? We have amused them all winter; it's but fair that they should give us a little fun now.” Clark shrugged his broad shoulders and passed on. He understood perfectly what the people of Vincennes had suffered un- der Hamilton’s brutal administration. At 9 o'clock an order was passed to cease firing, and a flag of truce was seen going from Clark’s headquarters to the fort. It was a peremptory demand for unconditional surrender. Hamilton re- fused, and fighting was fiercely resumed from behind rude breastworks meantime erected. Every loophole and opening of whatever sort was the focus into which the unerring backwoods rifies sent their deadly bullets. Men began to fall in the fort, and every moment Hamilton expect- ed an assault in force on all*sides of the stockade. This, if successful, would mean inevitable massacre. Clark had warned him of the terrible consequences of hold- ing out until the worst should come. “For,” said he in his note to the Gover- nor, “if 1 am obliged to storm, you may depend upon such treatment as is justly due to a murderer.” Historians have wondered why Hamil- ton became so excited and acted $So strangely after receiving the note. The phrase, “justly due to a murderer,” is the key to the mystery. When he read it his heart sank and a terrible fear seized him. *Justly due to a murderer!” Ah, that calm, white, beautiful girlish face, dead in the moonlight, with the wisp of shining hair across it! “‘Such treatment as is justly due to a murderer!” Cold drops of sweat broke out on his forehead and a shiver went through his body. During the truce Clark’s weary yet still enthusiastic besiegers enjoyed a good breakfast prepared for them by the loyal dames of Vincennes. Little Adrienne Bourcier was one of the handmaidens of the occasion. She brought to Beverley’'s squad a basket, almost as large as her- self, heaped high with roasted duck and warm fheaten bread, while another girl bore twc huge jugs of coffee, fragrant and steaming hot. The men cheered them lustily and complimented them without reserve, so that before their service was over their faces were glowing with de- light. And yet Adrienne's heart was uneasy and full of longing to hear something of Rene de Ronville. Surely some one of her friends must know scmething about him. Ah, there was Oncle Jazon. Doubt- less he could tell her all that she wanted to know. She lingered after the food was distributed, and shyly inquired. “Hain’t seed the scamp,” said Oncle Jazon, only he used the patois most fa- miliar to the girl's “Killed an’ scalp- ed long ago, I reckon.” His mouth was so full that he spoke mumbingly and with utmost difficulty. Nor did he glance at Adrienne, whose face took on as great pallor as her brown complexion could show. Beverley ate but little of the food. He sat apart on a piece of timber that pro- jected from the rough breastwork and gave himself over to infinite misery of spirit, which was trebled when he took Alice’s locket from his bosom, only to dis- cover that the bullet which struck him had almost entirgly destroyed the face of the miniature. % He gripped the dinted and twisted case end gazed at it with the stare of a blind man, His heart almost ceased to beat and his breath had the rustiing sound we hear when a strong man dies of a sudden wound. Somehow the defacement “of the portrait was taken by his soul as the final touch of fate, signifying that Alice was forever and completely oblit- erated from his life. He felt a blur pass over bis mind. He tried in vain to recall the face and form so dear to him; he tried to imagine her voice; but the whole universe was a vast hollow silence. For & long while he was cold, staring, rigid; then the inevitable collapse came, and he wept as only a strong man can who is hurt to death, yet cannot die. Adrienne approached him, thinking to speak to him about Rene; but he did not notice her, and she went her way, leav- ing beside him a liberal supply of food. CHAPTER XX. ALICE'S FLAG. Governor Hamilton received the note sent him by Colonel Clark and replied to it with curt dignity; but his heart was quaking. As a soldier he was true to#he military tradition, and nothing could have induced him to surrender his com- mand with éishonor. “Lieutenant Governor \imflton," he wrote to Clark, “begs leave to acquaint Colonel Clark that he and his garrison are not disposed to be awed Into any ac- tion unworthy of British subjects.” “Very brave words,” said Helm, when Hamilton read the note to him, “but you'll sing a milder tune before many minutes, or you and your whole garrison will perish in a bloody heap. Listen to those wild yells! Clark has enough men to eat you all up for breakfast. You'd better be reasonable and prudent. It's not bravery to court massacre.” Hamilton turned away withou# a word and sent the message; but Helm saw that he was excited, and could be still further wrbught up. “You are playing into the hands of your bitterest enemies, the frog-eaters,’” he went on. “These creoles, over whom you've held & hot poker all winter, are crazy to be turned loose upon you; and you know' that they’'ve got good cause to feel like giving you the extreme pen- alty. They'll give it to you without a flinch 1If they get the chance. You've done enough.” Hamilton whirled about and glared fe- rociously. “Helm, what do you mean?’ he de- manded in a voice as hollow as it was full of desperate passion. The genial captain laughed, as if he had heard a good joke. “You won't catch any fish if you swear, and you look blasphemous,” he sald with the lightness of humor characteristic of him at all times. “You'd better say a prayer or two. Just reflect a moment upon the awful sins you have committed and—" A crash of coalescing volleys from every direction broke off his levity. Clark was sending his response to Hamilton’s lofty note. The guns of freedom rang out a prophesy of triumph, and the hissing bul- lets clucked sharply as they entered the solid logs of the walls or whisked through an aperture and bowled over a man. The British musketeers returned the fire as best they could, with a courage and a stubborn coolness which Helm openly ad- mired, although he could not hide his sat- isfaction whenever one of them was dis- abled. “Lamothe and his men are refusing to obey orders,” said Farnsworth a little - later, hastily approaching Hamilton, his Zace flushed and a ‘lu? of hot anger “THE in his eves. “They’re in a nasty mood; 1 can do nothing with them; they have not fired a shot.”” ¥ 3 “Mutiny?”” Hamil B anded. “Not just that. T say they do not wish to fire on their en and friends. They are all French, you know, and they see their cousins, brothers, uncles and old acquaintances out there in Clark’s rabble. I can do nothing with them.” “Shoot the scoundrels, then!"” “It will be a toss up which of us will come out on top if we try that. Besides, it we begin a fight inside the Americans will make short work of us.” ““Well, what in hell are we to do, then?" “Oh, fight, that’s all,” said Farnsworth, apatheticaily turning to a small loophole and leveling a field gass through it. “We might make a rush from the gates and stampede them,” he presenty added. Then he uttered an exclamation of great surprise. “There's Lieutenant there,” he exclaimed. “You're mistaken—you're excited,” Hamilton half-sneeringly remarked, yet not without a shade of uneasiness in his expression. *You forget, sir.” “Look for yourself, it's easily settled,” and Farnsworth proffered the glass. “He's there to a certainty, sir.” “I saw Beverley an hour ago,” said Helm. “I knew all the time that he'd be on hand.” ' It was a white lie. Captain Helm was as much surprised as his captors at what he heard; but he could not resist the temptation to be annoying. Hamilton looked as Farnsworth direct- ed, and, sure enough, there was the young Virginian lieutenant, standing on a barricade, his hat off, cheering his men with a superb show of zeal. Not a hair of his head was missing, so far as the glass could be relied upon to show. Oncle Jazon's quick old eyes saw the gieam of the telescope tube in the loop- hole. “I never could shoof much,” he mut- tered, and then a littl& bullet sped with atsolute accuracy from his disreputable looking rifle and shattered the object lens, just as Hamilton moved to with- draw the glass, uttering an ejaculation of intense excitement. “Such devils of marksmen and his face was haggard. fernal Indian lied.” “I could have told you all the time that the scalp Lohg-Hair brought to you was not Beverley’s,” said Helm, indifferently. “I recognized Lieutenant Barlow’s hair as soon as I saw it.” This was another plece of off-hand ro- mance. Helm did not dream that he was accidentally sketching a horrible truth. “Barlow’s!” exclaimed Fagnsworth... “Yes, Barlow’s, né" mlsl:!&—-' Two more men reeled from a porthole, the blood spinning far out of their vounds. Indeed, through every aperture in the walls the bullets were now hum- ming like mad horgets. % “Close that-porthole!” stormed Hamil- ton; then turning to Farnsworth he add- ed: “We cannot endure this long. Shut up every place large enough for a bullet to get through. Go all around, give strict orders to all. See that the men do not foolishly expose themselves. These ruf- fians out there have located every crack.” His glimpse of Beverley and the sinister remark of Helm had com- pletely unmanned him before his men fell. Now it rushed upon him that if he would escape the wrath of the maddened creoles and the vengeance of Alice's lover, he must quickly throw himself upon the mercy of Clark. It was his only hope. He chafed inwardly, but bore him- self with stern coolness. He presently sought Farnsworth, pulled him aside and suggested that something must be done to prevent an assault and a massacre. The sounds outside seemed to forebode a gathering for a desperate rush, and in his heart he felt all the terrors of awful an- ticipation. “We are completel; is plain,” hesald, shi and gazing at the wi men writhing in agony. “What do U suggest?” ¥ Captain Farnsworth was a shrewd of- ficer. He recollected that Philip Dejean, Justice of Detroit, was on his way down the Wabash from that post, and probably near at hand with a flotilla of men and supplies. Why not ask for a few days of truce? It could be no harm, and if agreed to, might be their salvation. Hamilton jumped at the thought and forthwith drew up a note which he sent out with a white flag. ‘Never before in all his mili- tary career had he been so comforted by a sudden cessation of fighting. His soul would grovel in spite of him. Alice’s cold face now had Beverley’s beside it in his field of inner vision—a double assurance of impending doom, it seemed to him. There was short delay in the arrival of Colonel Clark’s reply, hastily scrawled on a bit of soiled paper. The request for a truce was flatly refused; but the note clossd thus: ~If Mr. Hamilton is Desirous of a Con- ferance with Col. Clark he will meet him at the Church with Captn. Helms.” The spelling was not very good, and there was a redundancy of capital letters; yet Hamilton understood it all; and it was very difficult for him to conceal his haste to attend the proposed conference. But he was afraid to ga to the church— the thought chilled him. He could not face Father Beret, who would probably be there. And what if there should be evidences of the funeral?—what if?—he shuddered and tried to break away from the vision in his tortured brain. He sent a proposition to Clark to meet him on the esplanade before the main gate of the fort; but Clark declined, in- sisting upon the church. And thither he at last consented to go. It was an im- mense brace to his spirit to have Helm beside him during that walk, which, al- though but eighty yards in extent, seemed to him a matter of leagues. On the way he had to pass near the new position taken up by Beverley and his men., It was a fine test of nerve when the lieu- tenant’s eyes met those of the Governor. Neither man permitted the slightest change of countenance to betray his feel- ings. In fact, Beverley's face was as rigid as marble; he could not have changed it. [ & RERE Beverley out said he, “That in- ~their mercy, that ng his shoulders 15 SOM " But with Oncle Jazon it was a different affair. He had no dignity to preserve, no fine military bearing to sustain, no ter- rible tug of conscience, no paralyzing grip of despair on his heart. When he saw Hamilton going by, bearing himself so superbly, it affected the French vola- tility in his nature to such an extent that his tongue could not be controlled. “Va t'en, bete, forban, meurtrier! Skin out f'om here, beast, robber, murderer!"” he cried, in his keen screech owl voice. “I'll git thet scelp o' your'n afore sun- down, see if I don’t. Ye onery gal killer an’ h'ar buyer!” The blood in Hamlilton’s veins caught no warmth from these remarks; but he held his head high and passed stolidly on, as if he did not hear a word. turned the tail of an eye upon Oncle Ja- zon and gave him a droll, quizzical wink of approval. In response the ‘old man with grotesque solemnity drew his buck- horp handled knife, licked its blade and returned it to its sheath—a bit of pan- tomime well understood and keenly en-, joyed by the onlooking creoles. “Putois! coquin!” they jeered: poltron Beverley heard the taunting rackeét, but did not realize it, which was well enough, for he could not have restralned the bitter effervescence. He stood like a statue, gaz- ing fixedly at the now receding figure, the lofty, cold faced man in whom centered his hate of nates. Clark had requested him to be present at the confdrence in the church; but he declined, feeling that he couid not meet Hamilton and restrain himself. Now he regretted his refusal, half wishing that—mo, he could not as- sassinate an enemy under a white flag. In his heart he prayed that there would be no surrender; that Hamilton would re- Ject every offer. To storm the fort and ‘goujat! revel in butchering its garrison seemed . ;ha only desirable thing left for him in ife. 2 Father Beret was, Indeed, present at the church, as Hamilton had dreaded; and the two duelists gave each other a rapier-like eye-thrust. Neither spoke, however, and Clark immedlately demand- ed a settlement of the matter in hand. He was brusque and imperious to a de- gree, apparently rather anxious to repel every peaceful advance. It was a laconic interview, crisp as au- tumn ice and bitter as gajlberries. Col- onel Clark had no respect whatever for Hamilton, to whom he had applied the imperishable adjective “hair-buyer gen- eral.” On the other hand, Governor Ham- ilton, who felt keenly the disgrace of hav- ing to equalize himself officially and dis cuss terms ot surrerder with a rough backwoodsman, could not conceal his con- tempt of Clark. The five men of history—Hamilton, Helm, Hay, Clark and Bowman—were not distinguished diplomats. They went at their work rather after the hammer-and- tongs fashion. Clark bluntly demanded unconditional surrender. Hamilton re- fused. They argued the matter. Helm put in his oar, trying to soften the situa- “~tion, as was his custom on all occasions, and received from Clark a stinging repri- mand, with the reminder that he was nothing but a prisoner on parole and had no voice at all in settling the terms of surrender. I ‘release him, sir,” said Hamilton. “He is no longer a prisoner. I am quite willing to have Captain Helm join freely in our conference” “And I refuse to permit his acceptance of your favor,” responded Clark. *Cap- tain Helm, you will returd with Mr. Hamilton to the fort and remain his cap- tive until I free you by force. Meantime hold your tongue.” A Father Beret, suave looking and quiet, occupied himself at the little altar, ap- parently altogether indifferent to what was being said; but he iost not a word of the talk. - “Qui_habet aul audiendi, audiat,” he inwardly repeated, smiling blandly. “‘Gau- dete in'illa die, ef'exultate!” * Hamifton rasel o go. Deep lines of worry creased his face; but when the party had passed outside, he suddenly turned upon Clark and said: “Why do you demand impossible terms of me “1 will tell you, sir,”” was the stern an- swer, in a tone in which there was no mercy or compromise. “I would rather have you refuse. 1 desire nothing so much as an excuse to wreak full ‘and bloody vengeance on every man in that fort who has engaged In the business of employing savages to’scalp brave, pa- triotic men and defenseless women and children. The cries of the widows. and the fatherless on our frontiers Tequire the bicod of the Indian partisans at my hands. If you choose to risk the mas- sacre of your garrison to save those de- spicable red-handed partisans, have your pleasure. What you have done you know better than I do. I have a duty to per- form. You may be able to soften its na- ture. 1 may take it into my head to send for some of our bereaved women to wit- ness my terrible work and see that it is well done, if you insist upon the worst.” Major Hay, who was Hamilton’s Indian agent, now, with some difficulty clearing his throat, spoke up. “Pray, sir,” said he, “who is it that you call Indian partisans?”’ “Sir,” replied Clark, seeing that his words had gone solidly home, “I take Major Hay to be one of the principals.” This seemed to strike Hay with deadly force. Clark's report says that he was “pale and trembling, scarcely able to stand,” and that “Hamilton blushed and, 1 observed, was much affected at his be-. havior.” Doubtless, if the doughty Amer-" ican commander had known more about the Governor's feelings just then, he would have added that an awful fear, even greater than the Indian agent's, did more than anything else to congest the veins in his face. The parties separated without reaching an agreement; but the end had come. The terror in Hamilton's soul was dou- bled by a wild scene enacted under the walls of his fort; a scene which, having no proper place in this story, strong as its historical interest unquestionably is, must be but outlined. A party of Indians R e e S R B R R Helm - returning from a scalping expedition in Kentucky and along the Ohio was cap- tured on the outskirts of the town by some of Clark’s men, who proceeded to kill and scalp them within full view of the beleaguered garrison, after which their mangled bodies were flung into the river. If the British commander needed fur- ther wine of dread to fill his cup withal, it was furnished by an ostentatious mar- shaling of the American forces for a gen- eral assault. His spirit broke complete- 1y, so that it looked like a godsend to him when Clark finally offered terms of hon- orable surrender, the consummation of which was to be postponed until the fol- lowing morning. He accepted promptly appending to the articles of capitulation the following reasons for his action: “The remoteness from succor; the state and quantity of provisions, ate.; unan- imity of officers and men in ts expedi- ency; the honorable terms allowed, and, lastly, the confidence in a generous en- emy.” Confidence in a generous enmemy! Ab- Ject fear of the vengeance just wreaked upon his savage emissaries would have been the true statement. Beverley read the paper when Clark sent for him; but he could not join In the extravagant de- light of his fellow officers and their brave men. What did all this victory mean to him? Hamilton to be treated as an hon- orable prisoner of war, permitted to strut forth from the fort with his sword at his side, his head up—the scalp buyer, the murderer of Alice! What was patriotism to the crushed heart of a lover? Even if his vision had been able to pierce the future and realize the splendor of Anglo- Saxon civilization which was to follow that little triumph at Vincennes, what pleasure could it have afforded him? Alice, Alice, only Alice; no other thought had influence, save the recurring surge of desire for vengeance upon her mur- derer. And yet that night Beverley slept, and so forgot his despair for many hours, even dreamed a pleasant dream of home, where his childhood was spent, of the stately old house on the breezy hilitop overlooking a sunny plantation, with a little river lapsing and shimmering through it. His mother’s dear arms were around him._her loving breath stirred his hair; and his stalwart, gray-headed fath- er sat on the veranda comfortably smok- ing his pipe, while away in the wide fields the negroes sang at the plow and the hoe. Sweeter and sweeter grew the scene, softer the air, tenderer the blend- ing sounds of the water murmur, leaf rustle, bird song and slave song, until hand in hand he wandered with Alice in greening groves, where the air was trembling with the ecstacy of spring. A young officer awoke him with an or- der from Clark to go on duty at once with Captains Worthington and Williams, who, under Colonel Clark himself, were to take possession of the fort. Mechani- cally he obeyed. The sun was far up, shining between clouds of a leaden, wat- ery hue, by the time everything was ready for the important ceremony. Be- side the main gate of the stockade two companijes of patriots under Bowman and McCarty were drawn up as guards, while the British garrison filed out and was taken in charge. This bit of formality ended, Governor Hamilton, attended by some of his officers, went back into the fort and the gate was closed. Clark now gave orders that prepara- tions be made for hauling down the Brit- ish flag and hoisting the young banner of liberty in its' place, when everything should be ready for a salute of thirteen guns from the captured battery. Helm'’s round face was beaming. Plain- 1y it showed that his happiness was su- preme. He dared not say anything, how- ever, for Clark was now all sternness and formality; it would be. dangerpus to take any liberties, but he could smile and roll his quid of tobacco from cheek to cheek. ~ Hamilton and. Farnsworth, the latter lightly wounded in the left arm, which 4 s bandaged, stood together semewhat apart from their fellow officers, while preliminary steps for celebrating their de- feat and capture were in progress. They looked forlorn enough to have excited deep sympathy under fairer conditions. Outside the fort the creoles were begin- ning a noise of jubilation. The rumor of what was going to be done had passed from mouth to mouth, until every soul in the town huew 4nd thrilled with ex- pectancy. Men, women and children came swarming to see the sight and to hear at close range the crash of the cannon. They shouted, in a scattering way at first, then the tumult grew swiftly to a solid rolling tide that seemed beyond all com- parison with the population of Vincennes. Hamilton heard it, and trembled inward- ly, afraid lest the mob should prove too strong for the guard. One leonine voice roared distinctly, high above the noise. It was a sound familiar to all the creoles—that bellowing shout of Gaspard Roussillon’s. He was roam- ing around the stockade, having been turned back by the guard when he tried to'pass through the main gate. “They shut me out!” be bellowed fu- riously. “I am Gaspagrd Roussillon, and they shut me out, me! Ziff! me voici! je vais entrer immediatement, moi!” He attracted but little attention, how- ever. The people and the soldiery were all too excited by the special interest of the occasion and too busy with making a racket of their own for any individual, even: the great Roussillon, to gain their eyes or ears. He in turn scarcely heard the tumult they made, so self-centered were his burning thoughts and feelings. A great occasion in Vincennes and he, Gaspard Roussillon, not recognized as one of the large factors in it! Ah, no, never! And he strode along the wall of the stock- ade, turning the corners and heavily shambling over the inequalities till he reached the postern. It was not fas- tened, some one having passed through just before him. pe P “Ziff!” he ejaculated, stepping into the area and shaking himself after the man- ner of a dusty mastiff. “C'est moi! Gas- pard Roussillon!” . His massive under jaw was set like that of a vise, yet it quiv- ETHING OF INTEREST AND TO YOUR ADVANTAGE. you books. Don’t waste time trying to get them from the library. Pon’t buy them. There is a way much better than any of these—get them for nothing with your Sunday Calil That is the whole story of The Sunday Call’s new literary pol- jey, which has completely revolu- tionized journalism in the West and created a new order of things. You must read =a ~newspaper— ~he Sunday Call gives you all the news of the day; it gives you all the up-to-date features of any maga- zine; it gives you a popular novel— free. The Sunday Call offers more to its readers than the combimed efforts of any other ten papers pub- lished in the sworld. As you must have a newspaper, get the best— The Sunday Call Therefore, why bother about p ting your name down on the wait- 4 / DON’T ask your friemds to loan OCTORUS,” BY ing list at the libraries for a pop- ular book of fiction afhen you can et the same movel complete in two issues of The Sunday Call? Why do you go to a book rtore and pay a dollar and a half for a book that is published in two or three issues ©of The Sunday Call? By getting The Sunday Calls October 19 and 26, together with this issue to-day, you have the ‘whole novel of “Alice of 0ld Vin- cennes”—Maurice Thompson’s best work—complete. Moreover, the il- lustrations are a feature in them- selves, for they were made by By- ron, the famous New York theatri- cal photographer, especially to il- lustrate this story for The Sunday Call, and were posed by Virginia Harned and her company in =a dramatized version of the movel. This gives you a dollar and a hailf Took free with three issues of The Sunday Call. But this is not all. Next Sunday’s issue marks the beginning of “The B I of FRANK NORRIS. Octopus,” by Frank Norris. The re- cent death, of Mr. Norris has called the attention of the world to this his last novel and greatest work. By special arrangement with the publishers, The Sunday Call has ob- tained the exclusive right for the publication of “The Octopus” on the Pacific Coast, and thus the readers of The Sunday Call will have the op- portunity of reading this masterful story without any extra expense. This is a feature that can be read- ily appreciated as superior to any attraction of any other mewspaper published in the United States. The first installment will be pub- lished November 9. Look out for it and then watch for the greatest wsurprise of all—“The Gospel of Ju- das Iscariot,” which is bound to crente as big a sensation here as it has done in the East and in Eu- rope—and for “The Gentleman From Indiana,” “When Knighthood Was in Flower,” “The Turnpike House,” “Tainted ' Gold,” “The Leopard’s Spots,” ete., ete. G It is an extraordinary list. Study it g ered with rage, a rage which was more flery condensation of self-approval than anger. Outside the sheuting, singing and huz- zahs gathered strength and volume, until the sound became a hoarse roar. Clark was uneasy; he had overheard much of a threatening character during the siege. The creoles were, he knew, justly exas- perated, and even his own men had been showing a spirit which might easily be fanned into a dangerous flame of venge- ance. He was very anxious to have the formalities of taking possession qf the fort over with, so that he could better control his forces. Sending for Beverley, he assigned him to the duty of hauling down the British flag and running up that of Virginia. It was an honor of no doubtful sort, which under different circumstances would have made the lieu- tenant’s heart glow. As it was, he pro- ceeded without any sense of pride .or pleasure, moving as a mere machine in performing an act significant beyond any other done west of the mountains in the great struggle for American independ- ence and the control of American terri- tory. Hamilton stood a little way from the foot of the tall flagpole, his arms folded on his breast, his chin slightly drawn in, his brows contracted, gazing steadily at Beverley while he was untying the hal- yard, which had been wound around the pole’s base about three feet above the ground. The American troops in the fort were disposed so as to form three sides of a hollow square, facing inward. Oncle Jazon, serving as the ornamental extreme of one line, was conspicuous for his out- landish garb.and unmilitary bearing. The silence inside the stockade offered a strong contrast to the tremendous roar of voices outside. Clark made a signal, and at the tap of a drum Beverley shook the ropes loose and began to lower the British colors. Slowly the bright emblem of earth’s mightiest nation crept down in token of the fact that a handful of backwoodsmen had won an empire by a splendid stroke of pure heroism. Bever- ley detached the flag, and saluting, hand- ed it to Colonel Clark. Hamilton's breast heaved and his iron jaws tightened their pressure until th¥nes of his cheeks wera deep furrows of gain. Father Beret, 4ho had just been ad- mitted, quietly took a place at one side near the wall. There was a fine, warm, benignant smile on his old face, yet his powerful shoulders drooped as if weighted down with a heavy load. Hamilton was aware when he entered, and instantly the scene of their conflict came into his mem- ory with awful vividness, and he saw Alice lying outstretched, stark and cold, the shining strand of hair fluttering across her pallid cheek. Her ghost over- shadowed him. Just then there was a bird-like move- ment, a wing-like rustle and a light fig- ure flitted swiftly across the area. All eyes were turned upon it. Hamilton re- coiled, as pale as death, half lifting his hands as if to ward off a deadly blow, and then a gay flag was flung out over his head. He saw before him the girl he had shot: but her beautiful face was not waxen now, nor was it cold or lifeless. The rich red blood was strong under the browned yet delicate skin, the eyes were bright and brave, the cherry lips, slight- ly apart, gave a glimpse of pearl white teeth, and the dimples—those roguish dimples—twinkled sweetly. Colonel Clark looked on in amazement, and 'in spite of himself, in admiration. He did not understand; the sudden inci- dent bewildered him: but his virile na- ture was instantly and wholly charmed. Something like a breath of violets shook the tenderest chords of his heart. Alice stood firmly, a statue of triumph, her right arm outstretched, holding the flag high above Hamilton’s head; and close by her side the little hunchback Jean was posed in his most characteris- tic attitude, gazing at the banner which he himself had stolen and kept hidden for Alice’s sake, and because he loved it. There was a dead silence for scme mo- ments, during which Hamilton's face showed that he was ready to collapse; then thegkeen voice of Oncle Jazon broke forth: ‘“Vive Zhorzh Vasinton! niere d’'Alice Roussillon!" He sprang to the middle of the area and flung his old cap high in air, with a shrill warwhoop. “H'ist it! H'ist it! Hissez la banniere de Mademoiselle Alice Roussillon! Voila, que c'est glorieuse, cette banniere la! Hist it! H'ist it!” He was dancing with a rickety liveli- ness, his goatish legs and shriveled body giving him the look of an emaciated satyr. Clark had been told by some of his creole officers the story of how Alice raised the flag when Helm took the fort, and how she snatched it from Hamilton's hand; as it were, and would not give it up when he demanded it. The whole situ- ation pretty soon began to explain itself, as he saw what Alice was doing. Then he heard her say to Hamilton, while she slowly swayed the rippling flag back and fort! “I said, as you will remember, Mon- steur le Gouverneur, that when you next should see this flag I should wave it over your head. Well, look, I am waving it! Vive la republique! Vive George Wash- ington! What do you think of it, Mon- sieur le Gouverneur?” The poor little hunchback Jean took off his cap and tossed it in rhythmical emr hasis, keeping time to her words. And now from behind the hollow square cai a mighty voice: “¢'est moi, Gaspard Roussillon; vojci, messieurs!” There was a spirit in the air which caught from Alice a thrill of romantic energy. The men in the ranks and the officers in front of them felt a wave of irresistible sympathy sweep through their hearts. Her picturesque beauty, her fine temper, the fitness of the incident to the occasion, had an instantaneous power which moved all men alike. “Raise her flag! Run up the young lady’s flag!”" some one shouted, and then every voice seemed to echo the words. Clark was a young man of noble type, in whose veins throbbed the warm chiv- alrous blood of the cavaliers. A waft of the suddenly prevailing influence bore him also quite off his feet. He turned to Beverley and said: “Do it! Tt will have a great effect. It 1s a good idea; get the young lady’s flag and her permission to run it up.” Before he finished speakinz, indeed at the first glance, he saw that Beverley, like Hamilton, was white as a dead man: and at the same time it came to his memory that his young friend had confided to him, during the awful march through the prairie wilderness, a love story about this very Alice Roussillon. In the worry and stress of the subsequent struggle he had forgotten the tender basis upon which Beverley had rested his excuse for leav- ing Vincennes. Now it all reappeared in justification of what- was going cn. It touched the romantic core of his southern nature. I say, Lieutenant Beverley,” he re- peated, “‘beg the young lady's permission to use her flag upou this glorious occa- sion; or shall I do it for you>" There were no miracles in those brave days, and the strain of life with its ter- rible realities braced all men and women to meet sudden explosions of surprise, whether of good or bad effect, with ad- mirable equipoise; but Beverley’s trial, it must be admitted, was extraordinary; still he braced himself quickly and his ‘whole expression changed when Clark moved to go to Alice. For he realized now that it was, indeed, Alice in flesh Vive la ban- - A and blood, standing there, the center of admiration, filling the air with her fine magnetism and crowning a great triumph with her beauty. He gave her a glad, flashing smile, as if he had just discov- ered her, and walked straight to her, his hands extended. She was not looking toward him; but she saw aim and turned to face him. Hers was the advantage, for she had known for some hours of his presence in Vincennes, and had prepared herself to meet him courageously and with maidenly reserve. There is no safety, however, where love lurks. Neither Beverley nor Allce was as much agitated ag Hamilton, yet they both forgot, what he remembered, that a hundred grim frontier soldlers were looking on. Hamilton had his personal and officlal dignity to sustain, and he fairly did it, under what a pressure of humiliating and surprising circumstances we can fully comprehend. Not so with the two young people, standing as it were in a suddenly bestowed and incomparable happiness, on the verge of a new life, each to the other an unexpected, un- hoped for resurrection from 'the dead. To them there was no universe save the illimitable expanse of their love. In that moment of meeting all -that they, had suffered on account of love was trans- fused and poured forth—a glowing liba~ tion for love's sake—a flood before which all barriers broke. * Father Beret was looking on with & strange fire in his eyes, and what he feared would happen did happen. Alice let the flag fall at Hamilton’s feet when Beverley came near her smiling that great, glad smile, and with a joyous cry leaped iInto his outstretched arms. Jean snatched up the fallen banner and ran to Colonel Clark with it. Two min- utes later it was made fast and the hal- yard began to squeak through the rude pulley at the top of the pole. Up, up, climbed the gay little emblem of glory, while the cannon crashed from the em- brasures of the blockhouse hard by, and outside the roar of voices redoubled. Thirteen guns boomed the salute, though it should have been fourteen—the addi- tional one for the great Northwestern Territory, that day annexed to the do- main of the young American republic. The flag went up at old Vincennes never to come down again, and when it reached its place at the top of the staff Bever- ley and Alice stood side by side looking at it, while the sun broke through the clouds and flashed on its shining folds, and love unabashed glorified * the two strong young faces. CHAPTER XXI. b — 2 SOME TRANSACTIONS IN SCALPS. History would be a very orderly affair, could the dry-as-dust historians have their way, and doubtless it would be thrillingly romantic at every turn if the novelists were able to control its cur- rent. Fortunately neither one nor the other has much influence, and the result in the long run is that most novels are shockingly tame, while the large body of history is loaded down with pictu= resque incidents, which if used in flction would be thought absurdly romantic and improbable. ‘Were our simple story of old Vincennes a mere fiction we should hesitate to bripg in the explosion of a magzazine at thé fort with a view to sudden confusion and, by that means, distracting attention from our heroine while she beiakes her- self out of a situation which, although delightful enough for a blessed minute, has quickly become an embarrassment quite unendurable. But we simply ad- here to the established facts in history. Owing to some carelessness there was, indeed, an explosion of twenty-six 6 pound cartridges, which made a mighty roar and struck the newly installed gar- rison into a heap, so tc say, scattering things terribly and wounding six men, among them Captains Bowman and Worthington. After the thunderous crash came a mo- mentary silence, which embraced both the people within the fort and the wild crowd outside. Then the rush and noise were indescribable. Even Clark gave way to excitement, losing command of him- self and, of course, of his men. There was a stampede toward the main gate by one wing of the troops in the hollow square. They literaily ran over Bever- ley and Alice, flinging them apart and Jjostling them hither and yonder without mercy. Of course, the turmoil quickly subsided. Clark and Beverley got hold of themselves and sang out their peremp- tory orders with excellent effect. It was like oil on raging water; th> men obeyed in a straggling way, gettiug back into ranks as best they could. “Ventrebleu!” squeaked Oncle Jason, “ef 1 didn’t think the ole worid had bust- ed into a million pleces.” He was jumping up and down not three feet from Beverley’s toes, waving his cap excitedly. “But wasn’t I gkeert! Ya, ya, yal Vive la banniere d’Alice Roussillon! Vive Znorzh Vasington!” Hearing Alice’s name caused Beverley to look around. Where was she? In the distance he saw Father Beret hurrying to the spot where some of the men burned and wounded by the explosion were be- ing stripped and cared for. Hamilton still stood like a statue. He appeared to be the only cool person in the fort. “Where is Alice?—Miss Roussillom= where did Miss Roussillon go?” Beverleg exclaimed, staring around like a lost man. “Where is she?” “D’know,” said Oncle Jazon, rasuming his habitual expression of droll dignity; “she shot apast me jes’ as thet thing busted loose an’ she went like er hum- min’ bird, skitch!—jes’ thet way—an’ I didn’t see ’er no more. 'Cause I was skeert mighty nigh inter seven fits; ‘spect that ‘splosion blowed her clean awayl Ventrebleu! Never was so_plum outen breath _an’' dead crazy weak o' bein’ afeard.” “Lieutenant Beverley!” roared Clark in his most commanding tome; “go to the gate and settle things thers. That mob outside is trying to break in.” The order was Instantly obeyed, but Beverley had relapsed. Once more his soul groped in darkness, while the whole of his life seemed uareal, a wavering, misty, hollow dream. And yet his mili- tary duty was all real enough. He kngw just what to do when he reached the gate. “Back there at once!” ha commanded, not loudly, but with intense force, “back there!” This to the inward wedge of excited outsiders. Then to the guard. “Shoot the first man who crossss the line!” i “Ziff! me voici! Moi! Gaspard Roussile lon. Laissez-mol passer, messieurs.” A great body hurled fitself frantically past Beverley and the guard, going out through the gateway against the wall of the crowd, bearing everything before it and shouting: “Back, fools! You'll all be killed—the Zir! run!” 2 powder is on fire! Wwila a March hare, he bristled with terror and foamed at the mouth. He stampeded the entire mass. There was a wild howl: a rush in the other direction followed, and soon enough the esplanade and all the space back to the barricades and beyond were quite deserted. Alice was not aware that a serious ac- cident had happened. Naturally she thought the great, rattling, crashing noise of the explosion a mere part of the spectacular show. When the rush followed, separating her and Beverley, it was a great rellef to her in some way; for a sudden recognition of the boldness of her action in the little scene just end- ed came over her and bewildered her. An impulse sent her running away fromy 2 . Call in the issue of Nov. 8.