Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 76: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

214 saw their dead bodies and lost her rea- son, but I fancy it has made her lighter on her feet.” The pity of the story clutched at Basil’s heart. He guessed the nature of that “accident ”’ which had overtaken the performing troupe of dancers and left this girl at the mercy of the black emperor. It seemed to Trelawney that her in- sanity was a mercy granted by heaven. But the sight of her brought him to thoughts of Violette and a greater fear that would not be silenced. He even gained courage to speak to Christophe of her. “The Lady Marquise de Tour- raine—” he began. ‘Silence, fool. Speak not until you are spoken to. She’ll be kept here with my empress until I decide what dis- posal to make of her.’ He leaned from the coach to greet his fat queen, who came slowly, ponderously down the walk, and leaned her bare black arms on the coach window, looking at Christophe with a countenance more remarkable for good nature than intel- ligence. “ A new and amusing addition to the court,’ announced the emperor, waving his hand toward Basil. ‘ ve chris- tened him ‘ Sir Fool.’ He'll dance for you at Sans Souci some day. But to- night we move on to Bonnet L’Evéque. I leave the French woman in your charge, my Bread-and-Butter. I shall be busy having those cannon brought up and placed.” “Henri, my Honeysuckle,” she said affectionately, returning his kiss with a resounding smack of her lips, “I go with you. There is a priest at Limon- 99 ade stirring up trouble and speaking against my emperor. Also it is whis- pered that- ghosts walk again; Sans Souci and Dessalines were seen—” “ Mon Dieu! We'll have this priest to account for treason,” he roared. “Drive on. The road to the Citadel 1s steep and the night is far advanced. Au revoir, my Bread-and-Butter. I ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. only wish my cares were as light as yours.” “ Henri,” she cried, “I go with you. I have waited until you came to tell you of trouble started by this priest. Would you leave me here to be butch- ered in my sleep by white rats that creep from their sewers in the dark and gnaw the foundations of your power? Is that a way to treat your empress? Open the coach door, varlet.” The postilion looked in trepidation from her to the emperor, evidently quite as much in awe of the huge black woman as her lord. It was plain to Basil that Emperor Christophe might rule his subjects with a hand of steel, but not his queen, for she wrenched at the coach knob and swung the door wide, scrambling in and push- ing the emperor over to make room on the cushion. Basil drew his feet aside to accom- modate her voluminous skirts, and the movement drew her attention and an- ger on himself. “Ride outside,” she commanded, pointing with a fat hand that glittered with jewels. Glad to escape, he swung to the seat beside the driver, but not beyond ear- shot of the emperor’s loud voice an- swering the querulous demands of his lady. “You go to meet a ship, and fetch back a Frenchwoman, Henri. Are the Citadel dungeons so crowded that we must keep prisoners at Sans Souci?” “She was to marry De Banana, but I find she is already claimed by the jester you have bundled out of the coach,” complained the emperor. “I could not well marry her again with a living husband.” “Undo the marriage by your royal decree. Let that ill-smelling dog of a De Banana have his white-faced doll. And why should you take this enemy in your coach even if he is her mate ?”’ “My Honey-hive, a woman never understands these matters. He is an EOPMIGE OO KS E)