The evening world. Newspaper, June 13, 1916, Page 15

‘Alence to immutable law. tr # i cuples humble |: stretch of snow heck ote that he tekes tobe tata "They are wolves. unger has. dgiven within the walls of Tare, ‘A drunten Becsy widier finds in the soow a baby dead mother “and he the "Infant to F any ln. ‘high poor she takes Poe Pig ies . ng 3 i CHAPTER VII. (Comtinud,) “Train Up a Child.” HAT most enchanted Fran- cois in those early days rus the acquaintance he made with @ company of ghosts. He discovered in his uncle Ubrary a brotherhood of books of verse, the “Romance of the Rose” and the “Romance of Reynard,” and the rhymes of Adam de la Hale, and Ruteboeuf, and Machault, and Bus tace Deschamps, and many another battered dard. Out of the lot tt was old Ruteboouf that most commanded, Ruteboeuf that was such a Parisian of Parisians, and next to him Eustace Deschamps, with his sheaf of innumerable ballades. The ballade fascinated the lad; its difficulties, its intricacies, its obe- Soon he was trying hip hand at like measures, experimenting clumsily, imitating servilely, but learning facility and dominion from bis experiments and his tmitations, And all the time that he was ex- ulting in his discovery, which he had the sense to keen secret, his uncle the Canon was convinced that he had in him the makings of an excellent cleric aad worthy successor to him- self tn the canonship of St. Benoit. Here was @ prediction to make every argoyle on Notre Dame crack with jaughter, CHAPTER VIII. Francois Rides Abroad. HEN he was fifteen and looked younger a great event shook the stillness of Francois's life. He went with his uncle on a journey to the court of a kin, Far away in Anjou jovial King Rene was holding a tour- nament, to which all the gallante of France were bidden. The deeds of great folk have their consequences for the small. There lived at this time in Paris a great gentleman, Robert d’Estouteville, who had his own rea- sons, which were good reasons, for desiring to ride to Anjou. Robert d'Estouteville was a friend and pa- tron of the Canon of St, Benoit. The Canon was of Angevin stock, and had a kinsman in Anjou, a cleric like himself, for whom he cherished a lively affection. Once in a blue moon tpis kinsman was able to make his flay to Paris, Once in a blue moon the Canon was able to make his way to Anjou. The blue moon rose anew when the Canon, learning of Robert d'Estouteville’s journey to Anjou, proposed to ride thither in his com- pany and under his protection. And because he had no wish to be sep- arated from his nephew, he further proposed to carry Francois along with him. Another joy for Francois was the fact that he was wearing fine clothes for the first time tn his life. They were only the cast-off apparel of a page of one of the Canon's wealthy patrons, from whom he had begged them for the purpose of decking out shia nephew for the journey. But to Francois they appeared the most eplendid garments imaginable. There were other boys in the com- pany, pages of Messire Robert and his friends, with whom Francois soon made acquaintance. There was one of their number, no other than M sire Robert's own privy page, that, being a greedy fellow, fell sick from overeating while they lay at Chartres and was for a while upon the shelf. Frarcois alertiy begged of his uncle to suggest to Messire Robert that his nephew would gladly volunteer to take the sick page's place for the time being. Messire Robert, who had taken some slight notice of Francois at the beginning of the journey, and who had been somewhat crossed by the gorging folly of his page, was graciously pleased to accept his offer, They reached Saumur on a radiant day, Every street was splendid with flags; silks and brocades swung from every window. There were triumphal arches everywhere that looked as solid as the monuments of Roman conquests, yet were no more than cunningly constructed fictions, Gilded masts supported shields of nobie knights and flung to the air the cor- responding pennons. The fountains spouted wine, the feasting was cease- lena, In Saumur, for the first time, Villon Deheld a King whose bearing coin- cided with his ideas of what a king should be. He had, indeed, more than once in Paris seen King Charles VII., and pitied the haggard face and jaded bearing of the disappointed man for whose sake Joan of Are had died. King Rene had a well-nou ed, well-carried body and a countenance which seen thus distantly and re- spectfully seemed to radiate health and cheerfulness. . Francois had not been many hours in Saumur before he was well aware of the reason which had spurred Messire Robert thither, and the cause of his sorrowful demeanor, A certain lady had come, as they had come, from Paris to Anjou. Her name was Ambroise de Lore. Ambroise de Lore wae also her father's name and Am- broise de Lore the man was the Pro- vost of Paris. ‘Francois knew all about him. He began as a poor Bre- ton rat, with no claim to a named father, though he was pleased to sport three gold ,cinque-foll on er- mine, But he was a waggish, dash- fag rasca), who had managed to mar. ty a noble lady who was Baroness of | Ivry in her own right. Ambroise de Lore, the woman, in- herited her mother’s grace with a good deal Of her father's gayety, though restrained, in her, behind the frontiers of decorum. She was de-, lightful to behold, she was young,| and she looked as if she were ue. rmined to remain young for ever; | she was witty; she had a good heart and @ sound head. Franoois found it buszed about in Saumur that many men there, if not all men there, were in love with her. | The first time Francois saw this nonpareil his heart came hopping in- to Nig mouth, for it seemed to him that he was looking upon the face| of his old playmate Huguette. For a/ moment he held his breath and ye tioned, could this indeed be she, Here were the same lively eyes, the same sunny tresses, the same sweet, im- perious mouth, Almost he cried her! name aloud there from his place in the press of men, and then reason laid her finger on hia lips, The lady Ambroise de Lore wi t least as much older than Francois as the lost Huguette was younger. It was unfortunate for Messire Robert d’Estoutoville that nature had not been pleased to make him a@ ladies’ man. He was inclined to tand or ait silent In thelr presence, 4 wenerally proved clumsy in the turning of a compliment, But the chief obstacle to his suit was the fact that he had for his main rival a certain noble of the noblest of An jou, the Bire de Beauvau. On the second day at Saumur, Francois chanced to be alone with Messire Robert, whose armor he was! burnishing for the coming tourna- | ment. | Francols was pleased to think he| knew what was the true cause of his | new master’s dumps. So when he had made an end of polishing up| the armor he made bold to rise from his place and to stand in respectful | contemplation’ before his master. { “Boy,” 61 the big, melancholic gentleman, “why do you stare at me?" “There is an old saying,” he averred, “that a cat may look at king.” | “That is very true,” Messire Rob- | ert agreed; “but then I am not a king.” ‘or am I a cat,” answered Fran- cois; “but my mother told me a fairy tale once in Which a cat did many a good service to his ruler. Wherefore I wish that I were a ca “And wherefore do you wish to be| a cat?” asked the knight, who was | not at all imaginative. | “Because,” responded Francois, “in that case you would be more like : accept my service.” “Why, what service could you ren- der me?" Robert questioned, “and of what service do you think T stand in need “My dear lord,” Francois eaid, “I grieve to note how of late you have fallen into a sadness. ‘Out of which you cannot help me,” hed Messire Robert. Pardon mé, dear lord,” Francois urged, “if I make so bold as to con- tradict you and to assert roundly that I can and will ease you in this mat- ter, if you will but give me leave. “Why, you do not even know what troubles me.” “[ know very well,” Francois as- werted, “that your heart is sore for the sake of a certain lovely lady.’ Messre Robert guped at him with rounded eyes. “How in the name of heavens do you know that?” he cried. Then with a sudden anger he continued: “Has any one been tattling; has any one been babbling; have you been chaf- fering with gossips?" “L ask your patience, dear lord,” Francois protested. “I am never a one to gossip and tattle and fetch and carry light reports.” This was not in the least true, for no one was more fond of chaffer and chatter than the lad; but for the mo- ment he had a profound and most vir- tuous belief in his own statement. “But I have my wits abour me,” he protested, “and where my affection is concerned, where my gratitude is awakened"--here he made his patron a profound reverence—"then my senses are more than usual lively. I have seen you change color at the sight of a certain lady; I have heard you sigh as she passed by. One does hot need to be a wizard to put two and two together and make four of it.” Why, you {mp of sin,” he said—but suid tt friendly—"does a spirit of di- vination dwell in your small body?” Francois always resented allusions to his stature, He never could recon- cile himself to the discrepancy be- tween his own picture of his person— @ commanding, swaggering fellow and the dull accuracy of a mirror. Now he kept his resentment discreetly to himself and saluted his master pro- ‘oundly. touncertainly ts God's golden truth,” ire Tobert admitted, “that my desire ie for a certain lady; and, indeed, I am very unhappy in the matter, little pigmykin, for I do not think that I stand to gain that sweet lady's favor.” . “My dear lord,” sald Francois, “I am only a simple lad"—he was now buoyantly afloat on the high tide of fancy and enjoying himself amaz- ingly—"but I believe that fair ladies are as easily tempted by some verses in their honor as a canary 16 by groundsel.” “Do you mean to tell me,” Messire Robert thundered, "that you can make verseg? “IT can_tutn verses as well as an- other," Villon responded cheerfully, “and if you will give me leave, I will bring you by this time to-morrow a rhyme in praise of your lady that will pleasure her and profit you.” Mesaire Robert had not a moment’ hesitation about accepting the pater- nity of Villon’s verses. If the lad could do as he said he would reward him handsomely, he swore. “Trust me," Francois replied, “You shall have your rhymes to-morrow, and if they do not content you, why, I shall never ask leave to kiss your ind again, CHAPTER IX. The Go-Between., F Francola spoke so eagerly of his scheme, it wae one word for his master and two for himself. Ever since he had seen Ambroise her to his childhood's playmate likeness bad haunted him, Ming hum with WHAT? A QuET LIL’ GAME? CAN 1 GET AWAY FROM THE OL LADY ? SAY, DICK, You KNOW ME kID. VLL BE JHERE AT EIGHT. WONDERFUL $ GRAND $ SWEET ! PRETTY | SPLENDID! BRAVO! longing to be near her, to speak with her. On further consideration he decided that it would be an engaging compli- ment to combine with his amorous deciaration an acrostic on the lady's name. Having polished to his own isfaction, and admiration of his master, the next business of Francois was to bring them before the eyes of the lady. The lady Ambroise de Lore lodged in @ great mansion, with a garden that ran down to the river, and was nd filed his verses to the separated from the stream and the stream-path by 4 high — wall. Francois, insidiously ingratiating himself ‘with vari learned that it was the custom of broise to walk somet den of a morning. A wall is ni ut matter to a lad- ascal of Paris, that can climb with his eyelids, and would peril his neck merrily for a munch at @ green apple, So behold Francois very shortly astride of that same river wall and looking into a very commendable gar- den of flowers and fruit trees and pleasant walks, Along one of these pleasant walks, as luck would have It, there came very soon the lady Am- broise de Lore, walking alone and enjoying the fresh of the morning, The moment he saw her Francois swung himself over the wall into the garden, so swiftly and briskly that he found himself on his hands and knees the lady Am- mes in this gar- behind a bush without having at- tracted the atten’ of the young lady, So he erly, dusted himself, and then emerging from h shelter, stepped forward as bold as you please toward the lady Ambroise. Hefore Ambroise had time to feel or express surprise at his presence, he made her a courtly bow, and with a rich extravagance of vocabulary, craved permission to address he young lady stared at the small, lean, @ark-favored youth In the bright clothes who carried himself so dap- perly, As he continued to smile up at her with unconquerable self-pos- session, she took it for granted that his presence there was justifiable and bade him deliver his message Instantly Francois dropped upon his knees, and plucking forth his parchment, he presented it to her, “I tender this,” he said, “to the grace of your white hands on behalf of my dear lord and master, Naturally Ambroise asked who that master might be, but Francois only shook his head, ‘while at the same time he continued to ures the parch- ment into her fingers, Seeing him so resolved, Ambroise took the sere and unrolling it, began tp read ¢ first with surprise but thereafter with evident pleasure, “Here,” she sald, when she had made a finish, “Is a very comely allade, breathing a commendable spirit. Who has woven these words nely!" These verses, fair lady,” he an- swered, “are the loving work of my dear and honored lord, Messire Rob- ert d'Estouteville. They are, as it were, the beatings of his honest heart.” Ainbroise opened her beautiful eves very wide indeed on the enchanted youth, "You surprise me not @ little," she admitted, "I know, as who does not, that Messire d'Fstouteville is a gal lant fighting man; but [I had 1 thought of him as a write rhymes." “Indeed,” Francols assured her, “they are the well-beotten children of my lord's mother-wit, that he called into the world to plead tor bim.” LADY- WOULD YOU MIND ASKIN’ THE DOCTOR Ik HE'S GoT AN’ OL suIT OF The Evening World Daily Magazine, Tuesday, June Life’s Little “Ifs” ote RR RE vening y' POOR SO! Yount cer AWAY FROM THE a LADY, PUT ON THESE SLIPPERS = WILL YA’? SNAIL. You RE IN THE GINK’ NEXT DOOR “If these be indeed Messire Rob- ert's rhymes,” she said softly, “are you very sure that they are intended for me?’ “Tam very sure,” Francois asserted, “for my lord bade me deliver them to the loveliest lady in France, I do but ask you to look at the first let- ter of each line of the first octave of my lord's ballade, and tell me what you make of them.” The girl scanned the parchment again, naming the initial letter of each line of the first verse in its order as she was bade, as thus A, M, B, R. O, I, 8, E, and as she read and guessed their secret her cheeks flew a livelier red. “IT do not think,” he said pertly, that there is another lady in all Saumur that carries your Christlan name; but for the fear that there might be such an one, I charge you to read a little further and scan the first six lines of the second octave.” Pleasingly pink, Ambroise did as the lad directed, reading aloud the in- itial letters, which ran thus—D, E, L, O, R, This is nes: she were here much.” Francois made her @ reverence. “I will carry,” he said, “your mes age to my jord. But 1 would, for his sake, be trusted with some words of warmer significance.” The cheeks of the maid were by this time ag red as a boiled craytish. “You are small of size,” she de- clared—Francois resented this hotly— @ most pretty ingenious- vowed, ‘and I would he that I might tell Lim as “but you are a giant of impudence. Do you think because a gontieman 18 at pains to send moe verses 1 must straight away hop into his arms? No such matter, Do you think that I have lived all these year had sniffed some sev eon sulmmers— ‘without having had a budget of rhymes flung at my feet Now Ambroise vas in reallty do- lighted to learn that the big knight for SAK, had turned troubadour but she was not willing to admit as much to his envoy “Indeed,” he pleaded, "I meant nd offense. I only wished well to my lord on his suit. The false anger of Ambroise flickered out in a nute "You may tell you she said, with t I prize his I cannot say for da give him my happy thanks Francois, thinking that had & his dismissal, made to tak eave, But Ambgoise arrested * “Stay,” she command: you are €n ambassador and must ear ward She sought her purse and found tt not, for it was within, and then she fumbled at her rings, aiming one off, But Francois prevented her, being suddenly fired with a great re- solve, “Sweet lady," he began, with a hesitation that was not familiar to him, “my service {8 due to my master and rewarded in the doing, But if in deed you think that I merit some small alms, why then there ts a fa tor which I would pray if I dared Maybe. Ambroise knew what we would be at. ay, young sir," she answered gaily, “you have pleased ma too inuch for to chaffer about your guerdon, It is ask and have | promise you T have read somewhere,” Franco!s faltered, “that it sometimes pleases a heantifil princess to deien a kiss The girl Was as chaste and de corous as you ple but ahe had not lived t t changing @ kiss or two with moi serious kissers than Messire d'Es- touteville’s page. Before the boy was well aware of tt, her soft hands rested on his shoul ders and her soft mouth pressed lightly against his own. It was all the work of one sweet second, but tt seemed to change the world for Francots. The girl, who saw his embarrass- ment but did not understand it, asked him {f he would like to go with her through the house, and so out to his lord, instead of returning by the more difficult way of the wall by which he had come. Francois parted from the lady he scarce knew how, and he staggered on the road as if he were drunk, CHAPTER xX. Shadow. 0 Francois, awimming In the ether, there wore but two black clouds on that sum- mer sky of Saumur, and they were colleagued, [ho first of these allegorical clouds was the residence of his good uncle's kins- man; the second was one of its tn- habitants, Guillaume Villon’s rela- tion, whose being was the cause of the Canon's visit to Anjou, and thero- fore of Francois his visit, lived in what seemed to the lad to be a dull house on the outskirts of the town, It did not interest him to know that the cleric possessed a considerable quantity of valuable plate; that he was believed to have large sums of money snugly stowed away, and that he was for his station as well-to-do @ man as could be found under the canopy of King Rene's rule, Francois did not make the acquaint- ance of the Angevin Canon for some little time after his arrival in Saumur, on account of his attendance on Mes- sire d'lstouteville, Hut when the greedy page's distemper was wholly mended Francois had won promotion as the secret pet of his lord, and his afforded him wooings of the muse leisure hours for meditation. The first time that Francots came into house he saw in the gloom ofthe chamber, behind the good man, a pair of eyes that seemed at first to have no face about m, and these eyes appeared to he fixed upon him with great ma olence. He shud- dered as he saw d felt like one in a nightmare, who would fain ery out and rid himself of his fear, but ean- pot for all his longing, Rut even as he stared and gaped with a heart of water, the good man called out in a loud vot “Have we no set before our guests, to show them proof of elr welcome, Bestir thee, Philippe, 1 give order for their entertain. nt and ours Then Francois, his dread somewhat tened by the sound of the human 6 was aware tt the eyes, ugh they still seemed evil to him, did not indeed glare at him out of nothingness, but were set in a living face that topped a living body, which was hunched there ‘n a settle In the dusk of the room, And at the aound f the host's voice a man arose from the settle and can rward, and ancoils saw he was a young some three or four, or may be years older than himself, He was habited all in b kK, and many inches ereater in stature than Francola, and had a smooth, sallow face that seemed as changeless as a stagna rool; bu eyes that were set in t fat mask of face still seemed to Francois now that he 2 ae A.M. NTHING ELSE. ‘Woud:), could see them plainly in the clearer twilight of the middie room. They gleamed with a dark brightness, mak- ing Francois think of black flame; and they seemed to him hungry eyes, and cruel eyes, and watchful and full of desires, Guillaume Villon nodded amiable #reeting to the youth, with whom he was familiar from previous visits and in whom he saw nothing of the un- canniness that go perturbed Fran- cols. The youth spoke no word, but salut- ed Canon Guillaume and passed from the room. Francois, unconsciously shrinking a little as he came near him, on account of his late alarm, noted that he moved very swiftly and noiselessly, and the way of his gait made Francois think of a wolf, and then of the wolves of his early memory that he had taken to be cats, In @ little while the youth came back again as quickly and quietly as he had gone out, and he was speedily followed by & woman who Wia'the good man's housekeeper, and she bore @ tray that was laden with wine and cups and cakes and sweetmeats of many kinds, and she eet it down on the table and made a reverence and went away. Then the good man filled four glasses with a wine that had the color and almost the sweetness of honey, and gave one to each of the company and lifted his own and spoke: “Health and happiness, and the grace of Heaven to ali present, and, above all, the grace of Heaven, for without it there is neither happi- ness nor health.’ Canon Guillaume nodded approval as he drank, and the good man’s face was kindly Ag he lifted his glass; but while the countenance of the man in black at the back stayed unchanged, it seemed to Villon as If hie eyes mocked while he emptied his glass stealthily, After a little while the good man said to his kinsman trom Paris “Goasip Guillaume, it is but natural that we elders should bave much to talk of that is but tedious for young ears, Therefore, while we chatter do thou, Phillippe’—and he turned to where the youth tn black sat--"take this nephew of our guest into the gar- den and divert him for @ little while, as youth best knowa how to divert youth.” As silent as before Philippe rose to his fect, and Francois thought, ax he looked at him, that he had never seen any young thing that looked jess youthful. Also, he was conscious of € @ reluctance to accompany the fellow that he found it nard to an entreaty that he might po ed to abide where he was. Bus he dared not do this for shame's sake, partly, and partly from fear of those strange eyes that seemed to read his mind and deride him. So he rosa very loath and followed Philippe out of doors and into the garden, and as he went his hand unconsciously slipped to the handle of the little dagger that Mesaire d’Estouteville had given him, such as pages Were wont to wear, ant then he quitted It again with a sadden chill, for tt seemed to him that those baleful eyes were upon him. atill, though his guide's back was turned So they came into the garden, Philippe led the way across the «rasa tll they were out of earshot of the house, Then he auddenly spun round on his heel and faced Francols, “I have seen you before,” 4 and his voice Was As expressionless as his face. lave you Pare answered, ezing as m heartiness as he could Into his voice, And where then, \f 1% please you?” 13, 1916 “SHE” A NNMMMEMN NAO RAR ARAN “It did not please me," (Philippe answered in the same colorless utt ance, “I do not care for butterflic unless I can stick them with 4 pin. Their gay colors and their silly flut- terings offend me," “Do you mean me for a butterfly?” | Francois asked as pleasantly as might be. He did not wish to take offense | for this fellow was his senior, jsurely stronger, and alarming @ from his strength, Besides, ne did not resent being likened to a b fly, for he was more than proud of his bright raiment, urely,” the fellow in black an. swered, “every pert ass of a paye 's and because he flutters round a rone tree he thinks he is near to the rose.” The face of Francots flushed, for tt would seem as if Philippe were atrik- Ing a stroke at his service to the lady Ambrotse, ‘The rose is the queen of flowers,” he said carelessly, Then something spurred him and he went on: “It is better to be the butterfly that re- foices in the color and odor of the rose than the worm that gnawa at Its root “A worm is a worm,” was the re- fjoinder, “and also ft is a snake, that can sting and coll and crush, and also tt ts a dragon, all winded and glittering in tinted scales, that oan ts snatch away fair princesses to gaze seemed more penetrating than | before, “Dragons come to grief in the fatry | storie Francois said stoutly. Philippe nodded Aye,” he said not in real life Reaching out a lean, sinewy hand, | he plucked hold of the right hand of Francois where it hung idly by his aide. Francois, taken unawares and | thinking this to be some attack, stif- | fened resistance; but Philippe, ut- | tering sounds that might be taken for amiable laughter, shook his head, VI frightens you?" he asked, | and before Francois could lift to his Mps the Ite of the word “Nothing” he aped on. “I would but look on the tok of your hand. Has your hand @ver been read?” Francois, understanding now what he would be at, suffered his wrist to remain in the grip of Philippe, while | he shook his head in response to Philippe's question. “L know something of that gypsy business,” Philippe said, “and be- cause I think you and I are like to ave commerce I would wish for a peep at your fortunes.” Holding the hand of Francois palm upward, he stooped his meangingless face over it, while his left hand spec- ulatively caressed his chin. “You have a damnable bad hand. he said. “You will live an ideal lif you will fail in your endeavors; you Will make a bad end.” So, as he spoke, he flung the hand of Francois away from him so sharp- ly that {t struck the boy's thigh in the swing with a force that made it tin- 5 t and the look of hate in Philippe's eyes, pricked Francois to a spirit of indignation, a “My life is for me to shape,” he cried angrily, “under God's good leadership, and it 1s not for your yea or nay to change it for the worse or for bette "Pie!" Philippe cried, “what a hot heart the bird of paradise carries under his fine feathers, Fly your ways, bright bird, heedless of gin and lime and glitter of glass and spread of net. But when you are in the tolls, when finger and thumb are mecting to wring your neck, do not forget that your trouble was fore- 4 om the distant house came sound of a summoning voice, “I think we are called for," Philippe said, as levelly ay if nothing of moment had been spoken between him and his companion, Ay ho spoke he began to walk slowly toward the house, and Fran- cois had no cholce but to keep him company. “1 tell you, my tinsel friend,” he said, “there be ugly things lying in wait for you, The shadow of the gallows blackens that pink palm of be hanged, ‘in the stories, but yours, If you gome to ‘ay Lhe there to see the sport.” He chuckled as he said this, but his chuckling had no music of human mirth pbout it Francois jogged along in silence until they came to the house, and he was heartily glad to quit tt a few minutea later {nthe company of honest Uncle Guillaume “Uncle,” sald Francois, when! he and Guillaume Villon had quitted the house and were on the way to the dwelling of yet another relative, the food eltizen with whom they lodged, “uncle, who is that youth whose ac- quaintance I have just made?" "I do not rightly know," answered the Canon, "There is some guess. tale hehind It. T have Judged tt best not to inquire, and you will do well to follow my exaraple. All I know ts thot hia name ts Philipne Sermots, and that our good friend has taken him into his house and sunnorts him out of Christian charity. He teaches the vouth, ton and hopes to make a good prieat of him When he woke in. the morning Fra honed that he should no meet him agatn—and hoped in vain. CHAPTER XI. Old Friends, ORERT D'RSTOUTRVTILLE was hugely delighted at the success of his envoy. He had no thought of self reproach at the imposition that he and his little friend prac tlxed upon Ambroise de Lore. To the soldier such toys as went by the name of verses were of no more ac. count than any pretty plece of gold smith's work which It might please him to offer to a fair lady But to- day Messire Robert thought better of poetry ae an occupation for gentie- folk, since it had won him kinder thoughte frogs Ambroise de Lore than Modern Fiction does not contain TALE of MYSTERY and ADVENTURE than By H. RIDER HAGGARD NEXT WEEK'S COMPLETE NOVEL IN THE EVENING WORLD Who was the strange, beautiful creature of marvel- ous power and almost endless years that dwelt in the Caves of Kon FASCINATES THE MIND more wonderful ‘or? ever he had been able to compass be- fore. So having tasted of Hippocrene— theugh, indeed, only by proxy—the good knight was fain to return to those refreshing waters. Francois Was called upon to stir his wits for rhymes, and his toes in frequent embassies to the beautiful Ambroise, who always received him graciously, giving him a kiss for every ball rondel or rondeau that he slipped Into her white fingers. And with each proof of Measire Robert's passion the fair lady's esteem for her stalwart suitor increased, and her former re- sard for the lord of Beauvau suffered & proportionate diminution. But om those few occasions when she had speech of Messire Robert—for the great knight was as shy in bis proper person as he was bold through the mouth of another— she was always hot a little disappointed to find that his spoken prose seemed to bear no Kind of relationship to his written verse. At last she could think of no better solution than to leave the problem to the arbitrament of arms, and she somehow contrived to let! her brace of wooers understand that whichever was victor in the grei tournament that was about to take place, might confidently aspire to the favor of her hand But while Messire Robert d'Estoute- ville was sucking vicariously long. draughts from the stream of the Muses, the interpreter of his passion was drinking deep from a more dan- kerous fountain, Poor Francois was ail afire with the madness of calf- love, FE) since Ambroise de Lore had Kissed him with such sweet care- lesaness on the lips, he had thought of nothing but her. The writing of rhymes did not serve to keep Francois within doors. He rhymed as he ran, in street or market place, by stream or field, till all the world seemed to jingle vei His chief delight was, of course, the sight of Lady Ambroise, and he em- ployed his liberty in frequenting such public places as promised to afford him « glimpse, if no more than a glimpse, of her loveliness. For though he saw her well-nigh daily when he served as bis lord's Cupid, this did not content him, and he haunted her goings and comings with a fidelity of which the girl had no knowledge, There was a fair space of meadow- ing on the other aide of the river, where a temporary tilt-yard had been Inclosed for the benefit of such knights as cared to exercise them- selves and thelr horses In preparation for the coming jousts. Hard by a kind of petty fair had sprung into being, with tents and booths for eat- ing and drinking and for the displays of jugglers and acrobats. Such @ place not likely to be patronized hy the great ladies of the court, and there was little chance for Francois of seeing Ambroise de Lore in its alleys, It attracted him vastly for all that, With a buoyant heart he plunged into the thick of the throng. He had money in poke, for my lord was most liberal, and he could treat him- nglf to all the gilded gingerbread, honey cake and the lke that his healthy appetite could desire. He had nearly come to the end cf his exchequer and had seen, as it seemed, all that there was to see, when he suddenly became aware of a crowd that was gathering and swelling in another part of the mead- nd he could hear the sounds of Tse and powerful voice making some mountebank’s proclamation, An open space of a few yards square was staked and roped and guarded by a couple of rough headed, hard handed fellows In soiled raiment of parti-colored cloth. The ring was empty save for its shock headed keepers and for a great fellow that lolled at his ease. ‘This fellow was to ordinary specu- lation no other than the typical hulker of a travelling show at a country fair habited in bedraggled finery that had passed through many hands and cov- ered many backs before it came to the present wearer. But he caught the eye, if not the taste, of Francois, instantly, and the lad studied him with a reluctant fascination that he found it difleult to explain, Strange fumillarities seemed to group themselves about that supine brute; old memories shut away in closets of the mind tapped and rat- tled at their doors to be set free. What, Francois asked himself, was that ruffian to him? And while he was asking himself that question, and failing wholly to find an inawer, the flap of the tent was flung back and the little stage had a new This was a girl, a young girl probs ably younger than Francois, though In her precocious maturity she seemed r, She was scantily clad in a gaudy habit. he shot forth into the open space with a great capering and fluttering of thin garments, ducked her salutations to the cardinal points, tilted herself aloft on pointed toes, blew kisses with great rapidity to so much of the world as she could boast for audience, und therewith be- f to dance, it seemed was what was expe of her, both by the mass that concentrated around the ring, and by the swaggering at presided over the busl- This fellow now picked up a that lay at his feet and began to ite thrum some sounds which he ine ‘ended for a tune, This and the tame bourine which the girl carried supe plied the music for her dance, From the moment that Franecote got a clear view of the girl's face as distinet from the general impression of her youth, and her impudence and her tinted draperies, he was instantly aware of a strange tugging at the strings of his sensibility, For th jigging miss in her flaunting rig she skipped 80 wantonly recalled ta him another child of Eve, at first in- definitely, then tantalizingly, then with a sudden arness of realized appreciation is) dancing child had an amaaing, staggering likenesg to that most incomparable of all falr maidens, the Lady Ambroise de Lora, | (To Be Continued.)