The Argosy, June 1904 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

518 the great ball-room, but where its splendid music could be heard alike in the palace and in the streets. The scene outside was as picturesque as inside, but not so splendid. Moors and Arabs, clad in their flow- ing burnouses, stood in groups to listen und to see. Sheiks and beys riding toward the palace on magnificent horses or richly-caparisoned camels, followed by attendants who would camp in the city until their masters were ready to depart, gave a caravan appearance to the streets. Jews, Kabyles, all the heterogeneous elements of the population listened to the infantry band and commented ac- cording to their point of view. “Some day it will not be so,” said a Moor to his companion. “ These ranks! Unspeakable! They do not respect their women! And such exhibi- tions! It is 7 * But let them spend their money yet a while,” rejoined the other. “ When they no longer bring money to Algiers we will kill them and govern our own country.” A carriage rolled by in which an offi- cer in full uniform sat by the side of a richly dressed lady. Somehow she dropped her fan. It was a dainty bit of ivory and feathers, and she did not miss me Thé Moor who had spoken first thrust a spear through it and then spat upon it. “He ordered my son shot,” was the only comment. Women peered from windows or loll- ed on housetops to hear the music. Many hearts in Algiers burned because of this—that they, too, were not in that world of dancing and music. The governor-general and his wife were themselves as splendid as any one. The uniform the governor wore, the orders that glistened on his breast, the silver-hilted sword, made him a noted figure. His wife, many years younger, seintillated with diamonds. The Bey of Tunis arrived, having landed from his little yacht elad in his georgeous royal uniform and well at- tended. The brother of the Sultan of Morocco, Mohammed Bey, addressed — in the European style as prince, was PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED prise Alfred. THE ARGOSY. barbaric but magnificent in his display of jewels. lis black eyes hghted up when he saw the beautiful women. He excused the non-appearance of his brother, the sultan, on the very efficient grounds that his capital was at that time under siege and he could not leave. Spanish officers from Ceuta, English officers from Gibraltar, Greeks, Italians, and Turks came in from all parts of their several worlds. It was bewilder- ing. Yachts in the harbor sent in their Iinglish or American quota. M. Rougiére, entcring this great as- semblage that represented all the world, reveled in it. Black princes stalked proudly around with jewels in their sword-hilts that would pay the ransom of a king. Alfred was in his clement. To him this was not such a surprise, for noth- ing there was in the world could sur- He had seen it all. But Marie—her breath came short and fast. To her this was an entirely new world. | During her school hfe in London she had been but ttle in society, never toa great ball. During her six months’ residence in the chateau she had been almost entirely without companionship, and her widowhood prevented invita- tions finding their way to her. And now her first introduction, as one might say, to the world of pleasure was this grand ball of races. lier beauty attracted everybody as she entered, leaning upon the arm of M. Rougiére. Licutenant Fournicr met them. ‘ Rougiére, introduce me,” he said. “Certainly. Marie, I present iny old friend, Lieutenant Fournier, whom I found in Algiers, end who kindly ob- tained for us the tickets to this ball. Jicutenant, my cousin, Mme. Hiil.” “T am pleased to meet madame,” said Fournier. “ I ask now for the priv- ilege of at least two waltzes during the evening.” “Thank you,” responded Marie, not knowing that it was she, and not Four- nicr, who was bestowing the favor. “T must present you at once to the governor,’ went on Fournier. The latter had not lived in Paris for JOO MMC C©