Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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# THURSDAY, HAY STH, 1M7. fHH BARNWBIX PB0PLB-8KNTINEL, BARNWELL. SOUTH CAROLINA of a i with a MAN* Bj RAFAEL SABATINI V.RU«Ma THE STORY CHAPTER L—Hti task of potttag 4own iBonbordtaatloB bjbobb the cap* talna of hla mercanarlM, and tho «nuhlac of poworfol rlvala. b«lna fln- Uhod with tho mthUMBOM which oharaotorliod him, Coaaro Borgia, dako of . Valontlnola, la nooaay ovor tho ooeapo of obo of bio ooomloo, Ifattoo OrtiaL It lo boIloTod Mattoo la la hid* to* with his rooloso kinsman, Almsrico, at PloYano. Coaaro dispatehos ono of kts folio worm, Pantalooao doglt Cborti. with a small troop, to Plooano to spy out tho situation, and. If Orslal Is found, to oapturo him. CHAPTER II Pantaleooe deyll Uberti arrired at Plevano on the wings of a snowstorm that swept across the Perugian foot hills, and he arrived alone. Within ^a couple of) leagues of the little town parted company with ten iTe * he had brought with him from Assisi. He gave thorn orders to break Into groups of twos and threes and us follow him to Plevano, each group seeking different quartern and pre tending no acquaintance with the others. He concerted signals by wblcb at need he could rally them to himself, and arranged that of the group of three who were to take up- their quarters at the Osterla del Tort*, one at least should remain constantly at the Inn where at any moment Pan- taieone could find him. s' - • He bade them, further, dissemble their true estate, and. himself adopt ing this Course which he Imposed upon his followers, be staggered some hours Staggs red 8oms Hours Latss Ovsr ths Orawbridgs. Ter over the drawbridge 4nto the courtyard of the citadel on foot, a bedraggled, footsore man who seemed to be upon' tbe point.of utter exhaus tion. Admitted by a groom, he reeled into tbe presence of the Lord Alme- rlco Orslnl and gasped .put as If with his last breath an urgent prayer -for - sanctuary. ■* “I am a hunted man, my lord," he lied. “That bloody despot Valentinols clamors for this poor Ufa of mine to swell his hecatomb.** The old lord of Plevano’s white handtf clawed the carved ebony arms of his .great chair. From under shaggy brows his piercing dark'eyes were bent upon this visitor. He knew well what was the hecatomb to whlqh Messer Pantaleone referred; no need for him to e^k; absorbed though he might be in his studies and removed in mind, as In body, from all worldly turbulence, yet, being an Orslnl, It was not in human nature that he should remain Ignorant of and Indif ferent to the shedding of Orslnl blood. And since here was a man who, as It seerqed, was come straight from the scene of strife, he was to be welcomed as one bringing news oh matters closely touching the lord of Plevano. Yet it was as characteristic of old Almerico Orslnl aa It was anomalous . in his day—when life was cheap and the misfortunes of others troubled men but little—that his first thought should be for this stranger’s condition. Seeing him so piteously bedraggled, to white and haggard, swaying like a ikard where he stood and breatb- L with obvious difficulty—In short, an who had reached the uttermost of endurance—the Lord A1 me rle© made a swift sign to the groodi who had admitted him. The lackey thrust forward a rush-seated chair, and into this Mi limply yet gratefully. He looked at the Lord Almertce so wh dtamki A-. Hits with a faint smile that express his thanks, end'then his bold eyes, seeming very wesry now under their heavy drooping lids, passed on to the lady who stood beside hhr father’s chair. She was a girt, no more, of a willowy, virginal slender ness, very simply clad In a wine-col ored gown cut square across her white young breast, and caught about her slender waist by a‘silver girdfS with a beryl clasp. Her blue-black hair was held In a clump behind by a net of golden cord; her eyes, of a blue so deep that they seemed almost black, considered him piteously from out of her pale face. Thus Messer Pantaleone first beheld her, and since hla taste In women was of the rude sort that craves for swell ing amplitudes of form, his Questing glance passed on without reluctance to rake the shadows of that noble chamber, looking for another who was not present ^ ' * “Why are you 7 come to me?” Aimer rlco asked him with inscrutable sim plicity,. “Why?” Messer Pkntaleone blinked as though the oddness of the question afforded him surprise. “Because you are an Orslnl, and because my cause' Is the cause of the Orslnl.” He pro ceeded to explain himself. “Paolo Oraini was my friend.” “Was?” The question came sharply from Madonna FUlvi'aT Pantaleone fetched a deep sigh, and sank together like a man In the utter most depths of dejection. “I see you have not heard. Yet I Should have thought that by now such evil news had traveled o’er the face of all Italy. Paolo was strangled yesterday at Assisi, and with him was strangled too the duke of Gravlna.” The old man uttered a sharp cry. He half-arose from hla seat, support ing himself upon trembling armk; then, bereft of strength, he sank back again. “God’s curse upon me who am the bearer of 111 tidings,” growled the crafty Pantaleone savagely. But the old man, recovering from hla momentary collapse under the shock of that news, reproved him for his words, whilst Monna Fulvla stood Immobile and rigid In grief. “That is not get alt,” Pantaleone pursued, as If defending himself against Lord Almerlco's reproof. “From Rome comes news that the car dinal la In a dungeon of Sunt' Angelo, that Glanglordano Is taken, together with Santacroce and I know not whom besides. We know what mercy ths Borgia will display. He will never rest as long as In the House of Orslnl one stone remains upon a not her. “Then will he never rest. Indeed,” said Monna Fulvla proudly. "I pray so. Madonna, devoutly do f pray ll—I who was Paolo Orsinl's friend and who to my undying shams havs ssrved tbs Borgia tyrant with him. For that—bscauss Valentinols knows that If I served him It was but because I served Orslnl and that I am to be reckoned as of the Orsinl’s family—I am now proscribed and hunted, and If I am taken I shall per ish as Paolo and Gravlna perished and as men hay that Matteo Orslnl perished too." In nothing {terhaps does the craft of the man appear so starkly as In this probing statement. As he spoke these words he watched father and daugh ter closely, seeming but to consider them with eyes of concern and pity. He saw the sudden movement of as tonishment that neither could repress. Then came the glrl'a question, laden with a sudden and betraying eager- nesa. - ^ “Do men say that?” she cried, her eyes kindling and her bosom quicken ing In her faint excitement. "It Is the common talk," said that swindler sorrowfully. "I pray God and the saints it be untrue." “Indeed . . .” Almerico began gr a re ly. as If to reassure him, and then -caution supervening, he abruptly checked. Unworldly and guileless though he might be, yet some knowl edge of his fellow map had come to him with his years, and. this fugitive inspired hikn with little trust, awaken ing In him an unusual caution. Obey ing It, he altered the tone and current of his phrase. "I thank you, sir, for that prayer." But JPantaleone, accounting himself answered, concluded that Cesare Bor gia’s suspicions were correct, and that Matteo Orslnl was in hiding here In Plevano or hereabouts. He reasoned syllogistlcally. The woman who loved Matteo Orslnl would not have received the news of his death with such equa nimity had she ndt been positively assured that he was living. Such as surance In such times nothing short . mask, a grotesque simulacrum of — ^ .4.1 •_ .... . V% _ a. -r-tr of the man’s presence'- at Plevano could afford. Wearing outwardly his mask of de jection, Messer Pantaleone’s treacher- >our heart rejoiced in this assurance that he was hot upon the trail, and that soon Matteo Orslnl and a thou sand ducats would be hla: But now he had to subutfit to ques tionings' from hishost Almerlco’s mistrust demanded to know more of him. “Yon are from Aaslal?” he Inquired. “From the lord duke of>alqntinola’ camp there,” answered the emissary. "And you fled incontinently when they strangled Paolo and Gravlna r "Not so." Messer Pantaleone saw the trap. In a game ot wits he was a match for any ten and) recluse stu dents aa the lord of PieTnno. “That, aa I have said, waa yesterday—be fare Cesare Borgia had proof of my de votion to this Orslnl. But for (hat seme devotion' and, the need to net upon It, I might have remained a cap- la the tyrant’s service. Bat It that I knew of VsIeotlnois' at Mean. F at- to send n letter of to PotraccL copied, and I had buT time to get to home before the hangman’s grooms should come to fetch me. I rode that beast to death a league from here. My notion was to get to Siena and Petrucd; but, being unhorsed and In hourly danger of capture, I bethought me that I would turn aside and seek sanctuary hero! Yet, my lord, he ended rising with elaborate show of physical pain and difficulty; “If so be you thlnk- that by my presence I shall draw down upon you Valentinots’ vengeful Justice, then—” He gathered hla cloak about hlu, like a main about to take hla leave. “A moment, sir—a moment,” said Almerico, hesitating; and he put forth * n hand-to atay the soldier. “What matters Valentinols?” cried the girl, and quick'anger blazed In her eyes, transmuting them Into fiery sap phires. “Who fears him? Wh were base, Indeed, did we let yon suffer for yopr generous Impulse, sir, to turn ^rou hence who .have been our kinsman’s friend. While there la a roof on Pie- vano you may sleep tranquilly under It" Don Almerico shifted In hla .chair and grunted aa she brought that Im pulsive speech to its conclusion. His daughter went too fast, he thought. He spread a white transparent hand to the blazing logs, and with the other stroked bis shaven chin cogitating. Then looking squarely at the stranger: x - “What Is your name, sir?” he asked him bluntly, v “I am called Pantaleone degll Uberti,” said the adventurer, who bad enough worldly wisdom never to make use of lies where truth' could be em ployed with safety. 'An honorable name,” the old man murmured, nodding as to himself. “Well, well! I witt u leave it, sir, to your discretion not to tarry at Plevano longer than need be. I think not of myself. “He shrugged and smiled dep- recatlngly, a smile of singular charm that illumined as with a light of lin gering youth within the venerable old face. I am too old to weigh the paltry sum of life remaining me against a service due to an honorable man. But there is this child to consider and the risk of your discovery here—” But at that she Interrupted him, breaking In with tbe impulsiveness of her generous youth and womanly com passion. “Who runs great risks may disre gard such lesser ones," she cried, whereat Ser Pantaleone became all ears... “By the Host! not so,” her father Answered. “We dare add nothing at present to draw attention upon our selves. You see—" He checked under the suddenly tightened curb of reawakening cau tion, and his eyes flashed keenly upon his visitor. But Paataleone’s face was dull and wooden, a mask betraying nothing of his inward satisfaction. For his quick wits had without difficulty completed the lord of Ilevano's broken sentence, and foundMt conflrmittg the assurance he had already formed of Matteo. Or alnl’s presence there. Seeing himself scanned with mis trust, he chose that moment to stagger where he stood. He reeled sideways,* crashed against a bronze table that stood near him. sent It slithering a yard or so along the marble tiles, and, missing Its resistance, he fell heavily beside It and lay at full strtetch upon the floor. “I am spent,” he groaned. They sprang to him at once—all three: Almerico, his daughter and the groom, who had remained In the back ground awaiting his dismissal. And whilst her father went down on his old Joints to lend Immediate aid, Ma donna Fulvla issued orders briskly to the gaping lackey. “Fetch Mario, quickly,” she com manded. “Bid them bring wine and vlnegir and napkins. Run 1” Pantaleone raised hla lolling head and supported it against Almerlco’s knee. He opened dull eyes, and bab bled Incoherent excuses for thus dis composing them. This manifestation of concern for them at such a moment touched them profoundly when coupled with his condition; It melted the old .Orsinl's lingering mistrust as snow upon the hills Is melted by the April suns. The man’s extremity was dire and obvious—and what could have produced it but the tribulations of which be told? Came Mario—a short, sturfiy fellow with a face that was the color pf clay, and so ridged and pitted by smallpox that It seemed *n.o more than a hideous way for m" So Mario and the groom lifted up our gentleman between them. The page took up one of tho gilt candle sticks that stood taller than himself upon the floor, snd went ahead. The rear waa brought up by Virginia, the wnittyg-maidr and thus in some sort of state was Messer Pataleone degll Uberti carried to bed and established at Plevano. (CONTINUED NEXT WEEK,) ^ — - ♦ ♦ ♦ — ‘Tis Mother’s human countenance. He was nond naily the castellan of Plevano; in effect he was many things, a factotum In cluding in his manifold accomplish ments the arts of chlrurgeon, horse leech, and barber. He waa rigidly hon est, faithful, self-sufficient, and Ignor ant In his wake now as acolytes came a groom, Monna Fnlvia’a own woman, and Raffaele the page. Among them they bore flasks and flagons, napkins and a silver basin. .With the others they made a group about Ses Pantale one, whilst Mario went down on one knee beside him and fumbled his pulse, his countenance grave and or acular. This pulse-feeling was a piece of Impressive mummery, no more. - For 'whatever irregularity Mario had dis covered there, his prescription would have varied nothing. Finding no !r- regetarlty whatever, It still varied nothing. . x “Exhaustion. Ha!” h* diagnosed. “A little bloodletting wifi eevive him ru ease him of mum six ouncee. and all will be weU." He roee. “Vln- cena* land a heat and well carry Mi! * bed, Yee, Raffaele, light the American gratitude garlands effigies for the tomb, of Washington every twenty-second of February and American patriotism flames and fortifies Itself every Independence day.; but sacred and sweet to the hearts of all true Amer icans are the memorials snd ministries of ^their Mother’s day—a day no other nation has unani mously ennobled. He must be an Inspired worshiper who can vocalize his love for his mother beyond her deserts. He la an ethereal poet who can set to word-music the wealth of her merits. He Is a trans cendent orator who can compass the volume of her full eulogy. The great story of her peril for our being, of her efforts for our education, of her sacri fices for our health snd happiness, of her pangs for our pains, of her agonies for our aberrant tbctlons, of her rain tures over our triumphs. Just cannot be composed in human words. Sen ator Reed of Missouri enme as near to doing it as any coold hope, per haps. when In a great debate he said: “Mother’s level It has produced, fondled, reared. Inspired and glorified all of the shadowy hosts who have passed across the 'bank of time’ since man first raised bis eyes toward the heavens. It Is, I say again, the golden cord that binds the earth to God!” To that wonderful love, to her who gave It to u*. we wear her dedicated flower and sing to her, whether pres ent or absent, the supreme peso in our heart. —- JL Mother Influence in Life of the Redeemer No Incident In connexion with the mighty tragedy of the Cross has any deeper pathos or finer significance than the recorded words, “Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother.’’ Ttfrre can be little doobt that, deep as was her understanding of His life and the Import of Hla min istry. she was Incapable of compre hending. to Its full worth, tbe sig nificance of-the crucifixion. No writ ten words could Indicate the depth of her sorrow or the greatness of her disappointment. In few of the lives of the great and the good does the mother Influence figure ao largely as In the life of Jesus. One yearns to know something of those years of ob scurity lived In Nazareth and of the .Intimacies that exJ»fed between moth er and Son. What a record such pages would make of motherly love and filial devotion! We do not have to strain our Imagination to conceive In what explicit and loving terms He talked with her concerning the great Issues of Ills life. Doubtless to no one did He confide the purpose of His life’s work as to His mother, and certainly from no one else did He re ceive such assurances of devotion and encouragement. Little wonder la It that the master painters of the world have concentrated their genius In pro ducing on canvas this glowing and glorious intlfnacyr Raphael’s brush perhaps above all others hak pro duced the Immortal canvas of Mother and ChlQl. The whole story of the Gospel lifts motherhood to higher levels of distinction than It had ever known before, and Mary, the mother ofivJesas, Is the highest approxima tion of our Ideals concerning this most sacred of all offices. Symbol of the Day The white carnation early was adopted 1 as the symbol of day; Its whiteness for purity, its form and fragrance representing beauty and love, and its wide field of growth and lasting qualities symbolizing charity and faithfulness—all a true mother's virtues. Tbe white carnation remains the recognized symbol of Mother’s day, though usage has Introduced the wearing of the red carnation in tribute to living mothers. Other flowers are worn when carnations are not avail able. Your Beet Friend ' Better appreciate your, mother be- Yore your appreciation of her will be no kindness to her, and the post mor tem regrets will be more and more of an agony aa tbe years pass on. Big headstones ,of polished Aberdeen and The best epitaphs which the fam ily put together could compose and a garland of whitest roses from the conservatory are often the attempt to atone for the thanks we ought to have uttered In living ears and the kind words that would have done more good than all the calls Ulna ever piled up on tbe silent mounds of the 1 YOUR MOTHER’S DAY By WiJbur D. Hesbit A DAY for your mother--tn* rnfne, at wefl, 1 xV Though the hag gone on toth* better hind; But folks atg hed mothen can always tdl You youngsters t lot you should undmtend You get to my ege» an’ your mother’s day 1 Will come to mean more than th’ rest to you. You'll think o’ your mother, an’ smile, an’ ay It’s Thenfc^tvin* Day, mbit’s Obristmes, too- Y OU’LL think o’ your mother—o’ how the dreamed That you would be all that she prayed you’d be; Her patience, her knxhiess!—she never seemed Too weary for you to climb on her knee! She bore with your failin’a, joyed in your stxen’th, Th’ whole o' her world was wrapped up in you You'll think o’ her day, an’ you'll know at len’th. It’s Tkanksgrvin’ Day, an’ it’e Christmas, too. , * * ' . , ^ , - rr A D AY for all mothers—from Mery down, . An’ from Mary back to th’ start o* tuneh In country, an’ city, an' little town, The thought is enough to mih* mm anhltmat. So, think o’ your mother! Think long an' deep Of all that she hoped an’ believed o* you. An’ then you will know that th’ day you keep __ Is Thankagivin* Day, an' is Christmas, too. —Chicago Tribune ]T~ > FEED Makes SIDE-MEAT and COTTON, too A little extra com brings Mr. Shoot . a running. He’ll even lay off scratch ing when he hears the rattle of the ears and you know it pays because this extra feed turns into more pig. Same way about your cotton crop. A little extra feed when it is needed turns into -df Tran ton, S. C. **Thm cotton waa grran a aaoond aida-draooing ot about 600 pounda ot Nitrata of Soda marly in July. My yiaM ot mad cotton par acta waa 3,300 tba., lint par mcra about 1,100 Iba. My lint coat about 9c par lb.” O. T- Swamringan Winnie Pint Prim Star* Contmt more cotton. Thousands of thinking cotton growers have proved the case for themselves. They have proved it for you, too, and you can profit by their experience. South Carolina “UndarbollwmviJ oondi- tiona, / dapand on Nitrata of Soda to haatan growth and fruiting. In an axpari- man tuaing200Jba. Nitrata of Soda aa a top-draaking in addition to my initial application, / barraatad IH balaa par aera." J. F. Williama They find that side-dressing cot ton, 150 to 200 pounds of Nitrate of Soda at chopping time, actually feeds the cotton plant like corn feeds a hog. They find they get an extra yield off their side-dressed fields as against those fields not side-dressed. * When bad weather holds the cotton back, this side-dressing pushes it ahead to early fruiting. And Nitrate of Seda side-dress ing, they say, gives the cotton power and strength to carry through dry weather. Side-dressing works way with com. x Just cut out this advertisement and write your name and address in the margia Then mail it to us. We win send you, without one penny of cost,our little book “Side- Dressing Cotton and Corn," Our manager is a practical cot ton grower and knows just what conditions call for here m tbs Palmetto Slate. Chilean Nitrate of Soda Educational Burei 810 Carolina Ufo ■V-;