"STAR" TALES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 10450, 2 May 1912, Page 4

"STAR" TALES.

THE CULT OF THE BOMB. (By FREDK. J ARM AN.) • [AI& Rights Re&ejvkd.] There is a sombre street of evil refuto in ulie Montemarts district of 'aria that is called the Rue des Loupes. As if to justify its name, here one can fiiul congregated the • cveme of the under-world of Paris. The low, timorous pickpocket and'sneaking thief—the gavnge Apache, with knil'o and revolver, and the Terrorist with his more terrible bomb., have each and all made Jt their haunt. 1 But of all the houses there, No. 9 was perhaps the best known, for it sheltered Auguste Bernet, the acknowledged head af the destroying brotherhood of Paris.

' The police knew him for the instigator, if not the perpetrator, of several Joomb outrages, but so cleverly had they been engineered that he never, so Srar, liad been brought to book. 1 Quite recently the Brotherhood had ,ieen at th&ir murderous work. An athad been made on the life of a .criminal judge, but though the attack Jiad been planned with consummate faring, it had failed in its object. The judge had escaped, but the infernal .machine, in exploding, had literally blown to pieoes an inoffensive private citizen, named Le Gallien. i The senseless murder had aroused the greatest indignation amongst all classes of society in Paris, and the .police had been spurred on to do something, but their efforts to bring the crime home proved fruitless. After a Week or two the affair began to lose interest, and outside police circles was almost forgotten, except by two people -••La Gallien's beautiful daughter 'Julie, and the perpetrator of the outrage, Auguste Bernet. It was about three weeks after Gallon's death, when Bernet was returning home from a cabaret, where he had drunk very freely of absinthe, that in turning the corner of the Rue des Loupes, he blundered against the slight figure of a young girl and nearly lost his equilibrium. Bernet was in an ill-humour, so he Jurned on the girl with a coarse oath, but it died away before it left his lips at the sight of her refined and beautiful face. Bernet, though an Anarchist, Was a* Frenchman, and possessed, in common with his countrymen, the instincts of courtesy, so in a moment he -was bowing his apologies for his clumsiness.

To his surprise the sweet face smiled very kindly at Jiim, and the girl graciously accepted the proffered amende. "It Is nothing, Monsieur Bernet, please forget it." To be so glibly by his name by this charming stranger was a second surprise, which went a • long way to sober Bernet. , ; , "Mademoiselle honours me greatly by knowing my name," he said, in a puzzled way. .May I not claim the same privilege of one so beautiful ?" " Monsieur is gallant," the girl laughed. " But surely it is not' very surprising that I should know one so Celebrated as the chief of those who wish to free our country. One who* is )o brave and resourceful in his service to the cause." '

jit was only the bare truth that the girl spoke, and he had heard it many Smes before, but it seemed especially Bweet coming from her lips, and it pleased him greatly—pleased him almost as much as the shapely form and lovely face, that he was gazing at with growing admiration. "You are one of us, then? Good! .Very good. We will be firm comrades —you and I. You have some wTona to,avenge on society—yes? I thought So. I knew by your face that something had driven you to us. Well, you're welcome. You shall come to my i-ooms and tell me all.. I can help you 1 1 TVjr|i qtvc " "You willP You will help me?" She spoke so eagerly that he eyed her suspiciously for a moment. The police set queer traps for such as he. He ..knew that. But her face was open as a book, her voice rang true, her clear eyes met his searching look without a flicker of the lids. They spoke for her sincerity.. She was a woman with a ■wrong to revenge—he read it there. ' " Ah, no," she continued, when he 'did not answer. "Of course, it is not your business. Mine is a private Wrong. You work only for La Patrie, t know."

"Yes, for my country, but there might .be circumstances that would induce me to diverge a little from my rules in order to help so sweet a suppliant as Mademoiselle." "What are they?" she asked quickly. "I cannot give you money."

"Money!" he laughed mockingly. "Money! Bah! You hare that, Mademoiselle, which in my eyes is worth all the gold in the universe." i A shiver ran through her frame, but he* did not notice it. As she did not he leaned towards her, and, Sinking hiß voioe, asked: "Does not Madem-'-olle know that she is superbly beautiful? That I am but a man, and would be less than that—her slave."

A deep flush mantled over the girl's face, and Involuntarily she half turned as. though-to flee from him. He put his hand on her shoulder and gently detained her. , i "I was too abrupt—forgive mo," he said, quietly; "I was carried away with admiration for you. Surely 'tis a pardonable sin I have committed P. I have never met a woman quite like you before. ' I will be more guarded with any tongue if you will forgive ma." ! "Oh, yes, Monsieur," she said, apparently reassured by his manner, '' and to-morrow, if I may bother you, I will -tell you my story. I must go now. liWTiere can I flee you again?" " "Will you come to my apartment at ■JSTo, 9P" He pointed up the street, but eeeing 6he hesitated, he continued: "I phall treat Mademoiselle with every "courtesy. You believe me?" I " Yes, Monsieur. I will come to-mor-?ow night at ten o'clook. An revoir, Monsieur Bernet," and with a bewitching smile she left him and hurried ftway. •••• t

He did not attempt to detain her longer. He waa a student of human pature, and knew that a woman of her temperament likes to be believed and trusted. Besides, there was a something in her voica that assured him that lihe Would come. He never doubted but that they would meet again, and then

Ah, yes. I it was necessary that they should. He felt it was fated to be so. Be had never met a woman like her before, with such glorious eyes that seemed to reveal her soul and radiate |n turn all shades of passion, from the toy glance of love to the burning leonine glint of vengeance. He smiled as jhe thought crossed his mind. He would gratify the latter at the price of the

" What a superb mate for a man like Siyßelf," he muttered, as he entered is apartment. " Yes. She is the embodiment of my ideal woman—beautiful and intelligent—fierce yet loving. One in whom the gentle fire of Venus jlows side by side with the rage of a tigress. Ah I I love that. 'Tis a rare Combination. True, love and true hatred. I must not miss it—she must be mine." : ;

Could he have seen the girl's face heard her woivls, his satisfaction would have been short-lived.

" To-morrow night I will have the truth from him somehow, and if 'twas he who murdered my father, God grant trim mercy; he'll get none from me."

In an ill-furnished room at No. 9, Hue des Loupes, the mellow light of a lamp spread its beams around, and lighted up the faces of Auguste Borne I; tind Julie le Gallien—seated vis-a-vis.

She had just finished the story of her wrongs. Not the true story, but one

purpose 6lie had at heart. She had given him a detailed recital of a great wrong done to a parent—now dead. She had told him of a great betrayal and desertion, followed by a life ot hardship and misery, and an untimely death. And how the craving for revenge had brought her to beg his assistance in the accomplishment of her task. Bernet had listened to her story, but the fascination of the presence of this delicate, well-bred girl had so played upon his imagination—so filled his mind with thoughts of the future, that he had given but scant attention to the details of her past, i One thing he noted, however, that she had so far carefully avoided the mention of her name. " Will mademoiselle permit me to remind her that, in spite of her story, I am still ignorant of her name." "I suppressed it purposely, Monsieur," she replied, her clear, frank eyes looking firmly into his. "I wanted..to tell you all first." "Ah! Then now I may know?" "Yes. My name is Marie Godin. And the man who brought this wretchedness into my life is Gabriel l'Orme, the criminal judge.' With a bound Bernet was on his feet —his . face twitching, his eyes aflame with excitement. "What! ' The criminal judge who sent my two poor' comrades to New Caledonia. The man—for whom in mistake I killed old le Gal " He stopped abruptly—the name only half spoken on his open lips. Fool I He was betraying his secrete to a stranger. Pish! He was«losing his head ,as well as his heart. She had bewitohed him with her beauty. For a few seconds he stood regarding hef With mixed feelings, then giving, an impatient gesture he turned away, with a frown on his handsome face. And the girl—she sat still in her chair, outwardly unmoved, but mentally a tumult of emotion. The trap she had so carefully planned liad succeeded beyond her best hopes. Under the spell of her beauty he had betrayed his secret —had told ner the one thing it was necessary she should definitely know — that he had murdered her father.. The road was clear before her now. "Did you understand what I said?" 'he asked, returning to her side. "Yes. You said that you killed Le Gallien in mistake for the—the other. I'm glad you told me. I know now that you are the man of all others in the world who can help me to my revenge. And you will help me—of that I am sure." " You are very confident," he laughed. The determination of her tone pleased him. " I shall want a big price for my assistance." "I am prepared to pay you any price when the . man who wronged me is death" " Even the price of your love?" " Yes. If you will help me to accomf>lish my task, you may then claim me or your slave." " Say .rather for my sweet mate."^ " What you will—then, but not till then." " How do I know you'll keep your word?" ho asked. "Look in my eyes," she cried, rising •and facing him. " Am I speaking the truth?" ' " Yes," he answered, after a pause. "No lie could lurk in those clear blue orbs. I trust you, Marie." " I will keep faith with you. , I swear it." Then, with a light laugh, ran to the sideboard, where she had noticed he kept a bottle of absinthe and some glasses. " We'll pledge our faith to One another in the green fluid—the liquor that fires the heart to deeds that make our tyrants quake and tremble." As she filled the glasses she emptied the contents of a small blue phial into one of them. Her back was turned to him, and so adroitly was the addition made that he never noticed it. Then she brought the two glasses forward and handed him the one that 1 was drugged. _ " jHere, give us a toast. I will drink to it, whatever it may be." He smiled at her enthusiasm, took the proffered glass, and, raising it on high, cried: "To our future, mademoiselle, and death to the man who wronged you." "Amen!" she murmured, with an earnestness he didn't understand. " And now," she said, when the glasses had been emptied and replaced, " we'll hasten the consummation or your toast. You shall instruct me in the use of a bomb." " To-night I Why such haste?" " Has love turned laggard?" she asked a litte mockingly. Then noticing an angry flush on his face she quickly added ; " Besides,* there is another reason why I should be prepared. I have obtained an interview, with my enemy. He has seen me, and, ignorant of my

identity, has, I believe, fallen in love with me." ] " That is not surprising," replied the other gallantly, " but it is all the more reason why I should instruct you to give him a warmer embrace than ho desires. I'll have no rival your love. We'll get to work at once." Removing a mat from the floor near the sideboard, he lifted a couple of boards and took from the hole a tm box about a foot square. Handling it with great care, he placed it on the table and unlocked the lid. "This," he said, with a. dramatic gesture, " is what the Press call—not inappropriately—an infernal machine." The girl shrank back involuntarily. The action was purely instinctive. The womanly dread of violence asserted itself in her nature, but in a moment she had mastered the weakness and steeled he/ nerves for the coming ordeal—from which they never flinched again that night. She iapproached the table and looked at it calmly. "That's better," he said encouragingly, having noticed her momentary fear. " Those who mean to play with death must keep cool heads and strong hearts." "I am all right now. Tell me how to use it." " This chamber, which you see is sealed, contains the explosive, enough to wreck this room and send us both to eternity. It is fired by a detonator, which, in its turn, is exploded by the clockwork you see and which can be set to go off at any time, before it is wound up."' " Show me how to wind it." " Very weli, but first I'll disconnect the striker." She laid her hand on his to stop him. "Is-it necessary?" " It is safer," he answered grimly. " I am not afraid. See, let us set it for midnight. There! Is that right? €kiod. Now wind it up. It will school my nerves to pass the minutes with death creeping on me, second by second. You can stop it, can't you?" "Oh, yes, any time during the next half hour; after that " "We should be killed? You are sureP" " Absolutely. Why are you so eager?" "It seems strange to be so near death. No, don't stop it yet. The thing nates me. Come and sit down for a few minutes. I want you near me, I'm not quite sure of myself yet." 'i- f Nothing loth, he led her to the couch and sat beside her, with his arm around her auivering form. He knew there was pfenty of time, and familiarity with his weapons had bred a certain contempt for them. They were his slaves—dea-dly to others, but to him mere playthings—toys. Besides, the girl's moods pleased him, she was so different from the common typequite an original creature, and lie admired originality. She was beautiful, too, and as he sat beside her with his arm around the dainty waist, lie' drew her to him and pressed her young, lithe body, and felt the warmth of it against his own. It;thrilled him and filled him with ecstatic feelings.' The magnetism of her presence seemed to spread but till its subtle force permeated and dominated his own. It was rapture—sweet and soothing rapture—through every fibre of his being, rapture that mastered his will and subdued his senses. It robbed him of all power of action; he could not move, he was chainerl by the spell of it. Once he tried to rouse himself, for the time was passing, but he had no power, was held helpless, bound, as in a dream—a dream so sweet—that So it seemed to Bernet, but the real power that held him was the opiate she had mixed with the absinthe, and before ten minutes had passed he was asleep. For another five minutes the girl sat motionless as a statue, noting the man's steady breathing. Then, satisfied that he slept, she gently disengaged herself from his encircling arm, rose from the couch, and crept to the table to look at the clock. "I've only a quarter of an hour left. I must be quick. Unfastening the band of her ekirt, she' unwound from her waist a length of broad silk ribbon. Frail looking stuff apparently, but strong as a hempen cora. With it she proceeded to bind the sleeping man's arms behind him, and then strap him securely to the woodwork at the ends and back of the sofa. She next gagged him with his own silk handkerchief, and then, being satisfied that he could neither move nor cry out, she wheeled the couch nearer to the table—and the bomb. "Five minutes more," she said, after a glance at the clock. "Only five minutes." She crossed the room to the, wash-

stand, and dipping a towel in th© jug, she piac-ed it on hie face, at the same time trying to rouse liim by calling his name aloud. For a moment it seemed that he would not awake,. but she persisted, and after a minute he opened his eyes sleepily. "Wake up, Bernet. Wake up, for you have only a few minutes to live. Remember the bomb." The last word roused him, and with an effort he succeeded in throwing off the soporific effects of the drug and tried to rise. "Oh! you needn't get up. I want to speaE to you, that's all. To tell you that I've tricked you—trapped you —you vile murderer." He looked at her with inquiring eyes and tried to speak, But the gag was effectual. "As I told you, I came to you to avenge a. parent's death—my father's. You murdered him, Auguste Bernet. Yes, I see you understand. lam Julie le Gallien." As he listened the man's face had turned ashen pale, and his fierce eyes gleamed with the mingled rage and fear of a trapped lion. He was no coward, but his look was turned towards the little box that stood so near him on the table. "Yes. I've not touched it," the girl said, with pitiless deliberation. "The clock is still going, and it is but three minutes from twelve. Make the most of those three minutes, 'tis all that is left you in this world." Then, without another word or look, | she passed quickly out of the room, lockingN the door behind her. - Three minutes only—three minutes of life left him. It was true—he knew it. He, Auguste Bernet,- the Terrorist, was to die the death he had meted out to others. Tricked by a girl, too—caught in the toils by a pretty face—sent to his death. Not withoitt a straggle, though. He was made of fighting stuff. Scarcely had the door closed on her when he was at it, tugging with tho Btrength of .despair to break the silken bonds that held him, struggling till the straining muscles on his arms stood out like wire ropes and threatened to brea-k through their fleshy covering. Second after second ticked away into the gulf of time. ' He coald hear the infernal horror on the table dragging on to midnight, and he could not free himself and stop it. A minute passed, but the silk held firm; a second minute went- He knew it, he had counted every heat. There was but one left now. Sixty seconds more of life. Now—now—he must do it now, if ever. He put forth, his remaining strength int-o one great effort, and broke the ribbon that held his arms. His hands were free. He tore off the gag, but did not call for help. He knew it would come too late. He must save himself. There were other bonds to break, the ones that held him to the couch, and he had no knife. Would there be time? But thirty seconds remained now, and they were ticking away so quickly. He tried to snap the ribbon that held, his legs, but his strength was spent. There were but twenty seconds now. He gnashed his teeth, for he felt his time was come. He put out his hand in the endeavour to snatch the box and stop the clock— It was just beyond his reach. Ho howled out curses low and deep. Ten seconds were left him, only ten. What could he do? Ah! turn the couch over —a poor chance of life, but it might save him. He threw his weight forward till the old sofa tottered and all but fell, as he wished. Still fate fought against him—it righted again—and the last -ten seconds were gone." With the baffled howl of a wild Favage he prepared again—he gathered his weight—ho hurled it forward. Too late. There came a blinding, lurid flash, a tearing, wracking roar and— At the corner of the Rue des Loupes « girl with strained and storing eyes saw that flame burst from the window of No. 9. For a moment she was rooted to earth. Then, with a shrjek of horror, she clasped her hands over her eyes and staggered blindly away into the sheltering darkness of the night.