FLOWERO' THE CORN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 12016, 12 July 1902, Page 3 (Supplement)

FLOWERO' THE CORN.

ARRANGEMENT.]

(v,' f ' BY. B. CROCKETT. ,V-■ ' , „ f „ on, Raiders." " The Grey Man," Author Wwk n „ia g ;" » Li,ao Snnbounet," ptoaJ£2SV*«»- •*.•«•*.:

:: V CHAPTR XXI. —(Continued.) . Wnwer' tho Corn, standing m a '* ■ X of amaaeentt pressed both her hands er head *mg,*"Oh, God, God I am :„ ill2 out of n mind. Let me d.» quickly!., ' '■ -Tut—nonsise-! Nothing of the sort, ■j ■ Vrette. pho was always practicallyin all rcumstances. "You will live , ifbe a pother yet, aye, ami be glad 1 .'V- ? the little iperience I am giving you to ' ■ £lin tout grid-daughters out of scrapes. ' "listen tree! Forget what you have £ or belie* that"l did it wholly for your g I ci never do!" said Frances, • «neaJ;ing ; mor frigidly than the cold that ® P " s even through her wrapI ■ i - ping*! of fur an horse-blankets. K' l* v« e tte'kept)er arms tightly about the • V tfirl in spite otUe "fact that her friend reI mained as uniponsive as a doll carved ! ■ out of wood. . ' ; . '" , -N •■'But I think can show you cause why m should thii less ill of me," she said gmtly, like oniwho suffers long wrongs 5 sh>annot help. . " - ' , , „ '"Hiat 'can vo never if you were to talk to Doomsday! "I have found you out, Yvette reionded Flower u' the Corn with "acctntuatediittemess. < j ' • ••No,"', am -4th you," said/the other, ■ , clasping hr vettighter." ".Not if ,I were only Yvettt Foythe innkeepers j daughter.j. But— trust -itli the secre: — life is • in it,' and tfs li>s of far nitre and far .. X worthier than I! Yet I trust,you. I, poor Yvette, have tlso v right tc be called , ' Madame le Marsha;' de Mont'evel. even as i ' " ' you heard them valine just aow!" j . " It is only one mo. of yourdeceits—there ' ■ . is no end of them, have ;<>od reason to • that!" retortedsVance/, not yielding; f/j -the least from her stoned attitude of disdain- , • jiS, v Nay, but not this tie,"pleaded Yvette. '•'* It ilia's been necessai I allow. I know you have good reason i distrust me. But .that has been - the fai, of! circumstances ;s rather than any lack c keeping faith. I om—(do 'not forget it)—ie wile of the Mar- ' shal commanding the Fretli tnops in these. Mountains. You, who hae sinh high ideals of duty' and affection, tellne Mliafc is better '$ It ' J or else higher than that aV-ifeshould strive U ' in all ways to serve the in tress of her husband. And have I not don st? Was I not ordered to find out the sec;t 'if the foolish • young officer of MarlborouJi?VAnd if you had not interrupted us wtild I not have -•.'- ■ , turned him inside' out like m eipty sack—■ *aye, this very night ,*and thedeSatch would • "have gone to my husband ii ti morning? , 'It was for this that these Cades i the Cross who are now watching us (for the guard you as a .valuable prisoner of war) arout on xhe ' , ' face of the Gausses to support ie regular ' " soldiers sent to jneet me. It is itorder that I Blight carry to de Montrevel wat I know in person that I am here. Do yu not see? ' ■ Wherefore else should a girl likone remain 1 alone in a petty village, listenin to psalms , , chanted night and morn like He howling £ of t dogs with their nosei poked at the ! moon, -and prophets prophesyig like old wives afraid of the last Judgmrit? What 'but 1 my" wifely duty would ha-e kept . me there?" " , * ' I Flower o' the Coin was looling at her with great wide-open eyes. Bine, eyes open ' wider arid show more sunrise than any others. x ' ■■* "But he was kissing you" she objected, '• and—and— were lettinc him!" i; o '"You dear 'little simpleon!" laughed V'/I Yvette. ■ "Why, that is iidhing! I 'will ' tell de Montrevel to-night and he will !* Inogli heartily himself. It is only art of " the rules of the game HM "Then I do* not think it at all a nice game!" ;?aid* Flower 'o' the Corn. "If you }' 1 r T did not really love him of course that might make a difference !' r . "Of course you'dtink so, dear innocent," said Yvette, gaily "Hut, women of the ."have', other .standards./'; | And now— well, we ha.-o wasted time enough on this matter. It is foljv anyway. All kissing is |g| 'unless you.get something by it! The main il : I /thing is that'you ;re a prisoner of war, and that your father have to pay three or m 'i* four thousand poinds for his daughter's ; - " ' liberation—or—" , , " Or what—?" iried Frances with her blue eyei- yet wider- (pen. "My poor old father \ \ nersr had threi thousand J pence , to bless himself with. What is -the. other, altermtive?" "Well," said Yvette, slowly,, "you .are ' J.. ■ a young girl and 1 am a -married woman, but to be honest with you I cannot put the - ." ' alternative into' words. 'Unless you have ?jv;'pJ ; liead"in J the village v of 'La, Cavalerie what j: these Cacets of the Cross are in the habit of doing to Protestant maidens who fall ? in i':l < 1 their way I cannot bring " myself to tell yori!"sg , sg!i | n fjj".C- "I—heardJ" said Frances, slowly, V the blood rushing to her cheeks and then " ■ slowly fading away. • "Well," said Yvette, taking her advant- -■-/* ?age, " there men will do all you-have heard and worse— ..inconceivable to ■ ' he spoken of. ' For these are no regular I^-; soldiers, but Cadets of the to-night Von a foray and to-morrow in the slums. of ■ i a town or in some beggar's den. Otherwise g; ,they would not have dared to speak to me as they did—otherwise they would not now i •" be waiting about us like greedy wolves around the innocent lamb." "And what, shall I do? Tell me what - J I must do!" moaned Frances, her head still '•/.on 'her hands. " I have pistols. Shall I kill myself? —or —if we wait long enough—?" : She did not finish her sentence. "If we wait lofig enough, what then?" said Yvette. suddenly .grown icy in her turn. -Well, he—he might come to seek me!" Yvette Foy moved further from her vic- . ; tim. ''"j "I thought better,of you than that! ' she said, severely. " My excuse that 1 did that which I did at the bidding of my husband does not apply to him. That which he did. he did to deceive you—behind your back— ' * out of the prompting of his own evil heart. That is, if he ever had any love for you, which he denied. -Besides, it does not matter, It will not do for ns to be found here together. If your friends were to arrive, now there would be a fight. Jo you think .that those wolves out yonder would give up their prey without a tiy for it? No, k surely! Well, they must win, or— might win. But neither would serve rny purpose. ' I mean when my work is done down.below | to go back to La C'avalerie. J mean to-be , nothing more than Yvette Foy, the innkeeper's daughter, ■ till ,this nest, of rebels is against the King's authority is rooted out. if Why need I conceal it? I wish to be back ~ . again when Jean Cavalier is there. - And what is more, I want the ground clear. * You have been in my way. Yes, m my way! Ana yet- I love you, as 1 shall presently ... prove. I might have gotten all that I wish .from both—from-this young aide of my Lord Marlborough's and their precious Gene- , _ ral Cavalier long ago—had it not been for you." . .:■■■; paused to let her words sink in. " Well, here.is a way to be rid of me— I mice and for all!" cried Flower o' the Coin fiercely and suddenly. She pulled a, ■ p st "l from her pocket and cocked it. Yvette snatched it away. __-•' "It would serve me little to have the ■ guilt of innocent blood on my conscience," she ,s-iid. " You forget I am' ,i Catholic and must go to confession! No, no—l have thought of a way. We will cheat them all Sj.,-. yet!" CHAPTER XXII. UK ('It.M)I.K OF SAINT VKIIAN*. ' i, 'Madame '' l Marechale! Madame la MareI? v chale!" cried a voice from over the desolate taring of the Gausses, crumbling with frost S I and weirdly blanched in the starlight. i Aye, Joseph; what is it?" she replied, in quite another voice than -she had been using : to Frances. , , " We must, be going to our homes before daybreak. It conies in an hour or so, and V .T ant our prisoner. Our night will be V'p oHy Wank without. We know her for a -v. rr rotestant and the daughter of a preacher. ' V. « n "1 l ]ave her served as such !" , fe; : T besides which," chimed in another voice, r'- , here wants his horse-blanket." i's.'t' •there Was the noise ol a scuttle at that, it, under cover of which Yvette Foy stood up n the ridge, so that she could talk freely to . ....^emon. i. it is a matter of ransom," she said, I ; rndly, " I take it 911 myself that the Mare- j

dial de Montrevel will pay any reasonable sum! I myself—" . " It is not a matter of ransom, Madame," answered the man who •' had been called Joseph, fiercely. "We have taken it on us to humble these dogs and sons of dogs, these Barbets! . Have we not permission to use the tortureaye, authority from the King himself,; passing over him whom you . are pleased to call your husband?" ■ " Cadets of the Cross," cried Yvette in a loud voice, " once and for all I warn you!, You . may . call yourselves soldiers, an* it pleases you! But by the faith of a woman,, if my husband— - '' ! . ;.. '• , "Her husband," laughed Joseph, contemptuously ; " she, a. Protestant, can be no j man's honest wife —least of all that of a j marshal of the good Catholic King of France from whom we hold our orders. . Praise be to the holy Pix, we are not dependent on: Monsieur the Marshal de Montrevel, no, nor on any of his—"' • t " '- Hush : 5 it there !" interrupted another * Comely's probably. . Well, at any rate," continued Joseph, " ladies of the. Protestant connection. . Bo done with your talks. and ; plottings ! Madame la Morechalo we will not touch. She is made sacxed by the baton of a marshal. But. mark 'me well, as sure as my name is Joseph Peyiat, we will come, for our prisoner in five minutes! And then, willynilly, Madame la Batonniere,' we Cadets of the Cross will put her to the high, the low, and the middle question. . And so may it fall out to all wenches of the. Bur bet persuasion !" , !".., - , " Yes, yes," chin.cd m some of tie others, " do we not wear the white! band in double across our breasts in tokeu that we are of the King's partythe alliance of believers? | We Cadets of the Cross will make another day of Holy Saint Bartholomew, eh r lads? I And as for the Marechal de Montrevel :-lie wears . no! scarf and makes war with gloves: of.kid ; who knows on which side he, is?" Already there was a glimmer of red in ' the east, away over the dark mural' escarpment 'ofthe Causse Noir. : It might/have been only : the t complement 'of; the flaming greeen sword of the aurora that smote ana wavered incessantly overhead. ; But. the paling of the night. warned them that the time was . short, ; even though they, could not yet see each other's features. "I have it," said Yvette; "wait, I will baulk them yet. Cadets ■of the Cross, are they? They will make a new Saint Bartholomew's Day, will they! Well'! well, an it pleases them they will have a wellknown, victim to try their blades upon. Let us see if they will dare to kill me!" . The two girls had been standing the while almost under the shadow of the huge mast which had been erected as a support for the carrier-cradle to convey messages and packages to Saint VeranTon the opposite verge of the Valley of the Dourbie. Thick cables stretched away downwards in ' the darkness iii a' grand curve. There was a little drag rope underneath, which served the twofold office of summoning the watcher opposite, and of fastening the parcel in the travelling cradle. " litre we have it,' said Yvette, "this 'will.suit all purposes. You can await your father's return just as well at Saint Veran, which is a Camisard town, and would give its last Genevan psalter for a real pastor's daughter. You will be : out of my : way. There is some risk, of course. But you have beard very plainly that I shall not be able: to save you here. I pray you get into the cradle. By the Lordl mean by the Holy Virgin of St. Enemie— would that I had your chances. If I could save you otherways I declare 1 would try; this : way to heaven myself. It is as near as Yvette Foy is ever likely to find herself. Get in, Frances !" .-1 ■,

The girl, now thoroughly frightened, clung about Yvette Foy's neck. ' - v.".No—: she said. "I do not deserve your love. Get into the cradle and .let us swing you off!" "".Oh, I ; love you," cried Flower o' the Corn—" at least lam sorry I ever hated you, ' You re < giving your ,life for. mine— or the same thing !" •' ": <■■■ " Nonsense—nonsense, child," said Yvette, in a loud, harsh voice, "do as 1 bid you ! Are you ready? There!" ! \ She gave a couple of sharp tugs to the lope which were immediately answered from Ilie other side, and, then rapidly looped the corA about Flower o'the Corn's body. - " Now it 'will not trail—kiss me she said, is the .wicker basket began to move, cumbrously at first, and then with increasing smoothness down the great slope. H The morning was fairly dawning now. but slowly*. The green .of the aurora had, as usual, blown up into a wind laden with heavy purple clouds, so that as Yvette kissed < Flower o' the Corn she felt though she could not see the tears upon the grateful girl's face. ■ -Yvette stood a moment watching the long sway and sag of the cradle till she lost sight of it against the great gnarled encarpment of the Causse Noir on which stands the'wondrous little town of Saint Veran, to which by the most wondrous carriage then extant in. the world Flower o' the Corn was being swiftly borne. "■ It chanced that the Cadets of , the Cross were all gazing with such intentness at the place where their prisoner was talking •to Madame la Mareehale that the great swaying basket of wicker-work, with its trail rope looped two or three times about it, had passed completely over their heads before it was noticed. ' -

; Then it. was Joseph Peyrat who first caught sight of it. "Fire therefire! Throw a hand-grenade! Run back and cut the ropes!" he shouted. " Do you not see they are sending away the valuable plunder? Did I not tell you both of them were Barbets—Protestants—no true : Christians? That Marechale woman was trying to do us out of our honest dues; All the jewels, all the best of the plunder, will, in a hen-setting, of moments, be safe ;in their accursed Saint Veran! But you—you would not tak,> my advice, and you see where you have landed yourselves!"' The Cadets of the Cross (as !the irregular infantry 011 the Catholic side were called) wore 0.1 their badge a crossed' band of white linen upon' their breasts, and their deeds .were those of savages. „ Rather, v as even their own chroniclers report, it would seem as if 110 - savages ..with - tomahawk and scalp-' ing knife ever equalled the atrocities which these friends rejoiced to commit in the name of religion,-and under the sanction of the highest :pr<weirs.of Church and State. But there. by the nature of the bond— which was solely one of plunder and revenge—little discipline among them.. So that, though Joseph by dint of a superiority in crueltv had i assumed a - certain command among tiiem, there were others as Comely ' who were of almost equal standing. So that no volley was fired at Flower 0' the Corn's cradle > as she swung out across the; great gulf towards the town of Saint Veran, a, mere purple blur in the distance when she started, now growing full of ! windows;: and j white walls, crowded with watching people. ? ,!!. Joseph himself fired, as did several others. . A hand-grenade was thrown not unskilfully, for it struck the basket, causing it to sway ; dangerously. " But at that - date serial conveyances were tricky things,. and indeed it is not recorded that they have;gained very greatly in certainty since. - Then it fell back to earth with a' ery of "'Ware heads!" and a general scattering this way . and that, ail crouching low,, as hens do when the hawk hovers overhead. ■-~' ■ ... . - :-. : The grenade took the ground near the feet, of Joseph Peyrat, and exploded with a vast upflinging of dust and earth, some of which went into Joseph's eyes and mouth, making his language like that of a bull of excommunication done into the vernacular. Thereafter. lie coughed, shouted, arid cried aloud that he was blinded. • ~ • He ordered someone to lead him. He declared that he would cut the ropes with his own hand. He would, slay the girl. No two accursed Barbets should cheat him of his proper advantage! Arid as for the other girl—he cared neither for marshal's wife nor marshal's— ... /'-! ! ; Whereat someone bade him abruptly stow, the slack of his jaw. If the ropes wore to be cut he must go and do it by himself. " And very soon will I finish that!" he cried, striding towards the great treblybraced mast of the Saint Veran cradle! ~,y' >- " i • • , ••• -.Hf - t Benqath it stood a womana woman whom at first sight they did not, know. She had a pistol in either hand—Flower,o' the Corn's pistols.. She stood erect beneath the dark purple-lit dawna : brunette,!-''tall and slender, her eyes deep as the Dourbie pools at, eventide, yet now gleaming bright and angry as when the sun shines on a sea fretted with the north wind. .. -.--.-- v, " Approach nearer by one hair's-breadth, any one "of you," -she cried, "and I will show you what chance a Cadet of: the Cross has of heaven ! : You say that you do not fear the Marechale —that you are not under , his orders. ' But, thank ' God, there is on»

argument which can still avail with a Cadet of the Cross and all such cattle, the fear of a hole punctured in his own dirty skin.. Soldiersnosuch l>sasts as you would not be soldiers more than . one day! And at daybreak of the second the Provost Marshal and the limb of the nearest convenient beech would finish your service. Bil/ come on I have sent. my. frienci where yon will not be able! to touch her. She is safe in Saint Veran by this time. And if you want either her person or her ransom—why, -go there and seek it, or apply at the camp of my husband, de Montrevel, ivlio, in spite of all letters permissory, knows* how to deal with such vile beasts of the field as you are !" After that there was a rush, Joseph Peyrat being , well to the front, as it chanced on this occasion by no means to his gain. . , A shot rang out. Joseph doubled himself up suddenly as if he had fallen over upon his own folded arms. Yvette stood erect, a little ring of sm;oke disengaging itself from her pistol. "Ah, here they come—the Maison Rouge! The uniform of the King's Guards! Let us leave the wench!" ■ ' Other guns went off irregularly. An officer ran up in the fine uniform of the Maison du Roi, the Red House of the King. : "A ni-oi—France France 1" cried Madame de Marechale, at the pitch of her voice. ' ' : - ./'■ . The Cadets of the Cross .took to their heels in the brightening dawn. They had no wish, in the present mood of Madame La Mareehale de Montrevel, to test the carpenter work of the King's gibbets, ror even of the nearest" beech trees. So they ! made . speed. and . were tout of sight "'in a fewminutes. All save Joseph, that is, who would never return an insolent answer to maid or matron again. . He lay on his face, his mouth filled with the hard earth of the Causse—his white-banded bonnet , fallen ! off and the bald pate of him lying against the great mast of the! travelling cradle which had convoyed Flower o' the Corn safely across to St. Veran. , » . I 1.!.. " What, is this? What is this? Speak —speak. Mistress Foy?" cried Maurice and Catinat together. ' ' . " „ ' ; The great cloak of fur fell to the girl's feet. It lay about her unregarded, as she. stood a moment silent. But not a quiver of the countenance discovered to the men that she had • expected any other succourers across the waste than those which had arrived so opportunely. . "It was nothing," she said, and her .voice was clear and steady; " only I found the Cadets of the Cross.threatening with ill usage Mistress Frances Well wood, and I have sent her over the way to Saint Veran! It was nothing to do!" "It is the act of a heroine!" said Maurice, profoundly moved. , : "It is "worthy of a Jael!" said Catinat. "Well may we sing the song of Deborah, she who in an hour arose a worthy mother .in Israel!" '! Then Catinat took both hands of the girl, . the rich mantle lying all unheeded at her feet. . " For this also I ask your pardon," he said, solemnly. "I took you for one of the foolish ones, the lookers out of windows upon the passers-by—devisers of cunning needlework of various 'colours—nay, even as liers in wait for the unwary. : But now I see: you are even as Jael —even as Abigail, who saved her lord—even as Anna, the prophetess—even as ; the great women of the earth. T, Catinat, the prophet, crave your pardon!" And raising her hand very reverently, be kissed it. And Maurice Raitli, stricken to the heart for the anger that had been in him, and the injustice of his!thoughts, did likewise. And both of them took this Yvette Foy for a woman most wonderful. Yet neither of them knew how wonderful. For it is not given to many to call upon a husband and find a. discarded lover in raiment which she herself had provided. In a single moment Yvette Foy had laid aside degree, had changed sides, bad become again the simple daughter of Martin Foy, of the Bon Chretien. Yet not so much as a tinge of regret crossed her countenance. She stood before these men even as a modest maiden might do. confused by the -hearing of her own praises..: She did not blush. That she could not compass, but she looked from side to side as if they did her too milch honour', and as if to change the subject she touched the red uniform ox Maurice with her forefinger. ' Whence came this - pretty " tiling?" : she cried archly like a child that finds a, toy. "Well, I suppose it does nob become me to ask, for it has served our purpose' well enough this time!" " Indeed said Maurice, looking at himself'in astonishment "in the morning light after the excitement of the stalk and chas? had ended. " Indeed I ; know as little as yourself whence it came or how I came to have it upon me." Yvette smiled subtly. . " Or less!" she murmured, unheard of the young man. Then she added in a louder tone, " Methinks the place is even yet un—let us go home!" . And they walked back together, but La Cavalerie was not the home at which Yvette had meant to take her rest that night, nor they, the courtiers who were to do her homage. Nevertheless, like a child -that will sleep ■ anywhere, she accepted Catinat arid Maurice, since no better might be, even complimenting the latter on his uniform and how well he looked in it. " It becomes you better than anything I ever saw you wear!" she said. Then the moment, after, " And I think she would like it, too!" (To be continued.)