The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 28, 1904, Page 3

THE SAN FRA NCISCO SUNDAY CALL. ’ et e et At e —————————————— e ——— think I have ever see a man in all my mean, dearest. ot even know if 1 for her soli- n his mind ed old lar P & P The the s brushed . re of to-day corst Lips n hands, f springtime, the daw not be them, eternal fare- Colonel Varez r echoed he said, ure price- Here must the Whe vet not incapa- h e parti- Ptince was just country on of t pre- au- it. Obe- was his was awzake by this time, and sossip at a cafe’'s door, many n her way to church, he ever that waking greater act which the Troops seemed to e drilling in square warching with flags Ing, now escorting at a canter to the re the great Hotel de r of unrest was universal. k eyes detected the barri- she read men’s e that but one ind. They were must be pro- judges to-day. it be life or death, sunshine or \e judgment of merey or cree of the dictator and uld this kingdom re- of those who for five ars had preserved her free- could she recall the tradition of & ty and save him even yvet? Es- 7 x Ehe could learn mo- active scenes and soldier by her side A day of gentle g sunlight mocked frred all hearts. ts of w mnot. m those red recognition. In the the palace Esther per- time that her desti- apartment she had ouitted. They drove her to the south- wing, to an old quarter of the pal- ers ace which, was though she ki it not, called “the prison.” Massive loopholed windows, spoke of the 1 of the Princes of Cadi five andred years ago, and in the days of ew Spain’s bigotry many an offender had breathed his last within those gloomy portals. Here, upon the first floor, in that which once had been the barti- zan of the fortress, an apartment was so cheerless, so cell would have eloquently of captivity bare, ed walls displayed no other nament than that of their wheels of swords and ed armor. Save for one king the square befc the > Ville, the windows battlements with a rude smoldering fire of ed of damp set ¢ in of place The air re solitary at would chair not have 1s fall- nent in which er The sunbea pave fo- was neither mc re Varez admitted nits ns, madame., able to or- lise it little wh n-eyed aston- sh ps, pre- vesterday. Now, at last, she knew the truth of her position; and her sense of humor re- maining to her, she could laugh at the folly which named her as a servant of France “Your ministry is most discreet!"” she retorted. “I am glad to see that I am important a personage. When this preposterous charge is a little more definite, I shall be quite ready to defend myself. Really, I must be a very clever woman!” He bowed gravely, for no man had scen Colonel Varez smile; and calling to a trooper who waited upon the stair- case, he bade him bring paper and pens. “I am merely the servant, madame; permit me to decline any argument. The Duke awaits your answer in a matter which is more urgent. Please make it as soon as possible; I will re- turn in half an hour.” He strode from the room, and the heavy door shut with a clang which re-echoed through the empty bulilding. A trooper had left a sheet of paper with pen and ink upon the table, and for a while Esther stood wondering what she should write and with what unknown consequences. She was still wearing the winter cloak in which she had gone to the citadel, and her first act was to loose it and throw it over the wooden chalr, where its bright lin- ing of pink silk gave a patch of wel- come color to that dismal place. There- after she knelt before the fire and warmed her chilled fingers and shud- dered a little in that atmosphere of damp and evil humors. The plain fact that the gates of a prison had closed upon her at last troubled her less than the base intrigue which would hawv made her the agent of her husband” compliance. Though she had been pre- pared for threats and entreaties, a cer- tain confidence in the ultimate triumph of justice had upheld her until this time; but here, within this cell, hope defied her and she would not barter with it. Her love-dream, so brief, was surely done with now! She saw herself cast out to the world to mourn eter- nally the man without whom life had no meaning. When she staggered up from her knees the pallor of death was upon her face, her eyes were blina so that she could scarcely find the paper. She sank heavily into the chair, and for many minutes did not raise her face from those arms which hid it from the light. What should she write? What must her answer be to him who so tortured her, who had found her out in London but seven months ago and saved her for this! Better, she said, that it had ended then; better the degradation, the poverty, the humiliation than this vi- m, this knowledge of and the surpassing hour > had not ask the help of Destiny ht have spared ! And now she must repay r her brief cculd but stand with his judges to answer 1 answer them, to hear ent and suffer it, then, in- this self-accusation avail her vain that be knew that the wish was thought came to her farewell might have sobbed aloud, heart- the worst. But she The ¢ the ead Sh and believi The in a si the ¢i minutes slowly passed which neit sound within the prison 1d ther cculd hear her own rt beating & took up the pen \d set it down again upon an empty upon any sh What should she write? How should she answer them? Should she that her husband counted upon the justice of his count > Should she defend him? Or shou be the bold ance, threat for threat, the braver resolution? The cleverness which ccm- pelled. her to ver at all was not overlooked. Bhe foresaw that this very paper might be used in evidence against the man they would condemn. She feared to commit herself, feared her refusal! The thread of an answer would be caught up in her mind to be lost immediately in a tangle of her ar- guments. Had she but one friend in Cadi, then might word have been sent to Paris and its Government. But she knew that she had none. Never had she been more utterly alone. The pen tumbled from her unwilling fingers—she said that she would an- swer nothing. Colonel Varez found her new resolve unshaken when he re- turned at the appointed time. He had not expected it, for, like many in the city, he believed that she was an ad- venturess and would sell herself *for money. "I fear you did not understand me, madame,” he said. *“The Duke is wait- ing for his answer.” She stood up bravely, and all her dig- nity helping her, she pointed to the paper. “It is there, Colonel.” He did not reproach her; her surprise mastered him, and he folded up the paper deliberately and with method. “Madame,” he asked at last, “are you aware what this means?” “I am aware, Colonel. “That I am carrying your husband's ‘death warrant?” She did not fiinch. “I know it,”” she sald, unshaken. He took a step toward her and held out his hand. “I salute a brave woman!” he sald. She did not speak. :Her lips were twitching, her eyes dilated and turned full upon his own. Not until he left her did she break down utterly and burst into a passionate flood of tears. CHAPTER XX. Colonel Varez ¢ d her message to the ministry at seven o'clock, and at eight the trooper entered her cell with coffee and bread. She welcomed this intrusicn and was grateful for the food he offered her. Her grief had left her weak and cold; and when the first pas- sion of it was over, she sat for a full hour oblivious of her surrcundings and (heir significance. “The bread is bad zood, n e,” the fellow said. *“I the cook by and by and do * you to-morrow. My mother, will be up here just now, he will make us comfortable. t the top of that but the coffee is will sce better fc Guanares, ard then s Your bedroom i as the best of them. We shall have trouble by and by, and some one will be killed. They say there are two thousand guards in the square. I do not know, I have not counted them. But you can see it all, madame, if you care for such things.” Esther heard with surprise. From her window she could look down upon the square before the Hotel de Ville, and upon the crowds already gathered there; and she wondered that curiosity had not sent her there before. Though the scene was viewed from afar, no de- tail of its picture escaped her. Every threats, and withdrawing from the window she sat again at the table and drank her coffee and ate the sour bread, and shut her ears to the omi- nous cries. The bells of the cathedral, muffled by those tremendous walls, chimed the hour of eleven before the brief repast was over. If she had any consolation of suspense, it was that the ordeal must be brief. She could see it so clearly in her mind; the dimly lighted court, the blazing uniforms, the scarlet robes, the stern figures—one man against a nation, and he alone! Loyalty to her window, every rcof, tree and wall and “ideals sald that the prisoner would play fountain, contributed its quotum to that mighty audience, always plc- turesque and entirely heterogeneous. The display of color was worthy of a southern race, she said. Flags, ban- nerets, gay tapestries covered up the a brave part, answering lles with scorn and conspiracy with indifference. When a volley of applause from the square heralded some greater event, she forgot her resolution and ran to the window, believing that the end had ol little flight of stalrs. If you want to see what is going on at the Hotel de Ville yourhave only to look out of your window. They say the Prince is to be there by and by—God forbid, say I!" He was a cheery gossip, who bustled about the room and performed unne- cesary services in an unnecessarily clumsy way. Knowing something of the circumstances in which an English lady had become a prisoner in the Bar- tizan Tower, he yet pretended ignor- ance, and chattered on as though it were a fete day in'the joys of which he could not participate. “You haven't thought of it, I sup- pose, madame, or it would not be news to you,” he said.. ‘“The first thing I do when I go to a new house is to look out of the window. ~You never know what may happen. Now, if you will please stand over there, you will see as well white stone of the loftiest buildings. The steps of the hotel were a glittering sheen of rainbow hues, to which the crimson robes of the judges and the white uniforms of the guard lent their staring contrasts. The crowd Iitself swayed Mke a shimmering field of hu- man corn. Fierce but brief tumults de- clared the latent passion of angry par- ties. The gendarmes were everywhere, cajoling, threatening, beating the peo- ple back with the flats of their swords. All seemed to wait for some figure ne- cessary to the pageant and its story. Esther knew that they waited for her husband. She needed no logician's wit to understand that she had been im- prisoned in that very apartment to be the spectator of Arthur’s humiliation. Stch ‘a shallow device earned her just scorn. She resolved that she would yield nothing to persecution or to come; but the scene was unchanged, the mob, if anything, more dense; the sunshine more brilliant. The outery died down as suddenly as it had arisen. The pecple waited patiently when the knife did not clinch their arguments. She returned to the fireside, and stir- ring the lagging embers, drew her chailr close to them. Ages seemed to pass before the merry trooper returned, full of the story of the morning. She ques- tioned him eagerly, forgetful of her dignity, desirous cnly to know. He re- plied as readily, for he was proud of the authority of knowledge. The Prince, he said, carried himself eplendidly. His appearance in the streets pleased the people. The priests were on his side but the bourgeoisie were against him. His judges took their orders from the Duke of Montal- van and were not to be trusted. The Prince’s answers had embarrassed them exceedingly. They charged him with receiving money from the French Government and intriguing with the Carlists. But the count of treachery ‘was one upon which they chiefly relled. He would have sold Cadl te France, they said, in return for a command in the French army and the income of a Prince. Of the more personal indict- ment this honest fellow had the sense to say nothing. He did not tell her that her own name had moved the crowd to a frenzy of anger, that she was spoken of as one in the pay of the French Government, styled *“a well- known adventuress, by whose intrigue the Prince had been inveigled to Eng- land.” An honest fellow, he held his tongue about this. Why should he grieve her?! He belleved that she ‘would have enough to suffer by and by. “Mother Guanares is in the kitchen,” he said. “I promise you something good for breakfast. The wine in the cellar here !s as old as the bishops. We will drink the Prince’'s health—he'll beat them yet, be sure of it! He's a tongue In his head and kmows how to use it.” Esther thanked him for his devotion, though she could not share his faith When he brought her an excellant breakfast, ghe tried to eat with appe- tite, Qut it was a mere pretense. The intolerable day dragged out its de- pressing hours. It would never end, she thought. W RGN e, TN e The court pronounced at five o’clock In the afte minutes later a thu the great square w the lonely prison understood th Joy to be the rising with b the window a upon the turbul dark by this time, an in all the windows of tk its judgment nge tr ur unbroken human stream of and citizens and the audience of By every co in all the doorwa argued with mendous n their horses thr d and began to drive the homes. Pas: [ a and even claimed | spoke that word wh gift of love or death t window. Tt t ing eye close to t listened Intently to th 10f y the torture of the doubt ained Arthur gulity or innc free or a prisoner, ¢ 1 1 plauded? Vain h dred voices t hundred a talvan and Carriage after c 8 lop through those shifting in none of them w » any face which told came to thought, * condemned! she shut the s fall he The hours changed. St or place tmaginati Judges, “He say, the w the caf stirred it was nine tel de V pect and came down gentle b the moonbear streets and shone squares. Within no sound ss and the se tore on and anguish passe never her—wo on her? Th tor answered all unexpec other than Francisco who came to the carrying a lanter ther said that he figure of some ev not shrink from h mistress of hers And his first word cally apologetic. “Madame,” he sald, “I am very sorry to find you in this place.” She bowed her head and walited for him to go on. When the trooper had brought a pair of car 1d set ¢ one at each side of his lanternm, Duke bade her seat herself. “The ministry compels it,” he sald, folding his hands behind his back and pacing the stone floor l'ke one think- ing deeply. “TI have pro ted, but they will not hear me. Evil tor have been at work, madame; they pay you the compliment of calling you & spy. She laughed a little bitterly. “I am flattered,” she said. “I @&d not know that I possessed the brains for vier himself, ten o' she a he found her th d of her dign vas characteristi- that.” “Then you are singularly modest, madame. I should say that you have too much brains to be any such thing; and I am a judge of brains.” The assumption of a new virtue flat- tered him and he stood before her to repeat it “Yes,” he continued, like one convine- ing himself of a pleasant attribute, “a judge of brains, madame. I know wise men and I know wise women. Knowl- edge brings me here to-night—a plain man of business to make a business bargain 4 He fell to the measured step again, regarding her with half-closed eyes which told him how greatly she suf- fered. She would have given years of her life to have had her question an- swered, but of him she could ask no- thing. When he halted before her for the second time his manner changed to one of unusual insolence. “You are clever enough for any- thing,” he sald, “clever enough and pretty enough for anything, my lttle English lady. Yes, I sald that when I saw you for the first time seven months ago—a pretty woman who can be made beautiful, & wise head which will fas- cinate, rule, lead any man who has not the will to resist it—my dlagnosis was correct, madame. You have served me faithfully—I could not have found a better instrument in all Burope.” He laughed goftly, and holding the candle aloft, would have locked upo her face; but she turned with an angry gesture, and In spite of her resolution, she asked him the question. “I*'would to God that I were & man!” she cried bitterly; “it is so safe to ! sult & woman who has no friends. I my husband were free—" “You are aware that he is free, then.” For an instant a wild light of hope {llumined her eyes. Had he coms to tell her this? Was the brutality but a veil? She had no pride left when she saw that it might be so. “I know nothing,” she retorted; “how could I? Who cares that I should know?” “I care, madame; my solicitude brought me te this room to-night.™ “Then your solicitude finds thanks.” no