John Kendrick Bangs - "R. Holmes & Co."

Frank Preston Stearns - "Cambridge Sketches"

Anna Kelsey Howard - "The Canadian Elocutionist"

Charles Miner Thompson - "The Calico Cat"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Orrain

S >> S. Levett Yeats >> Orrain




"There!" gasped De Mouchy. "Quick!"

Twice I put my shoulder to it, but in vain; and De Mouchy shrieked with
terror, for the mob was scarce ten feet from us, filling the passage.
But still De Lorgnac and Le Brusquet held them back at the sword's
point, and the way was so narrow that not more than three could stand
abreast therein.

"Stand back!" I heard Le Brusquet cry; "we are freeing a prisoner!"

"Give us De Mouchy!" they howled, and then the foremost three made a
dash forward. There was a smothered cry, and the leader, an
evil-looking villain, lurched forward on to his face. Back they fell
at this, for they were unarmed, and we got a moment's respite.

Again and again I put myself at the door, and at last it crashed open.
As I rushed in I saw a kneeling figure before me. One glance, and I
called out:

"Diane! It is I--Orrain!"

As she rose to her feet with a cry I put my arms around her to support
her, and then the brave heart gave way, and she began to sob on my
shoulder. So for a space we stood, and even the savage mob stayed
their course, and halted, peering at us across the two bright swords
that still held the passage.

It was now that De Mouchy made a last bid for life. In the momentary
respite he had from pursuit, as the mob halted, he slunk to the
farthest end of the room, and stood there, looking at us, with his back
to the wainscoting, his hands resting against it, and moving nervously,
as though he searched for something. Already those at the far end of
the passage were getting impatient, and angry cries began once more to
arise. As I put my arm round Diane to help her away we heard a click.
A door concealed in the wainscoting flew open, disclosing a dark
passage, into which De Mouchy dived, and vanished in a flash. But his
enemies were not to be denied; and this time no effort of De Lorgnac or
Le Brusquet could stay them. In his flight, whether overcome by fear,
or whether it were otherwise impossible, I cannot say, but De Mouchy
neglected to lock the secret door behind him. The mob, blood mad, and
now utterly out of hand, filled the room, and rushed after him. For a
space we ourselves were hemmed in, so that it was impossible to move,
and it was whilst we stood thus that there came a frightful shriek of
agony from the dark passage, and then the distant sound of struggling,
and again a shriek. God, and they who were there, alone knew what
happened; but as the mob swept through the room and into the dark
opening that was before them the way became clear, and we passed into
the street.

Cartouche was still there, standing where De Lorgnac had left him. At
a word from De Lorgnac I lifted mademoiselle into the saddle--though
wearied the great grey was well able to bear so light a burden--and
holding her there we made our way with all the speed we could out of
the Passage of Pity, Le Brusquet holding the horse.

When we reached the river face Le Brusquet turned back and pointed to
the sky. There were dark clouds of smoke rolling over the Mathurins.

"_Eh bien_," he said, "there is the expiation of Dom Antoine de Mouchy!"

A half-hour later we were in the Louvre, and I had surrendered my
charge to the Queen.

* * * * * *

About a month after the events I have just described I received the
Queen's commands to attend her at St. Germain-en-Laye, and that very
evening rode through the gates of the Vieux Chateau.

From the time that I had placed mademoiselle in safety in Catherine's
hands, with the aid of the two best friends man ever had, I had not
seen her. She had been ill, but was now recovered, and when I received
the Queen's message, I hoped that, perhaps, Fortune would give me a
chance to say farewell to Diane ere I departed for Italy to join
Montluc.

The Spanish war had broken out, and De Lorgnac was in the field at
Marienbourg. Le Brusquet had gone, none knew whither--perchance to see
the pears of Besme--and as for me, I felt it was time to be up and
stirring. Things had changed with me, for I was now the Vidame
d'Orrain, and I might hope and dream again. Moved by these thoughts I
rode into the palace gates, followed by Pierrebon, and Monsieur de
Tolendal, who was in waiting, at once took me to the Queen.

I found Catherine surrounded by her ladies, but though my eyes searched
here, there, and everywhere I could not see the face I longed to see.
The Queen engaged me for a few moments in desultory talk, and then at a
sign from her we were left alone together.

"Monsieur le Vidame," she said, "is it true that you leave for Italy in
a few days?"

I bowed in silence.

"And you are resolved?"

"Madame!"

"In that case, perhaps, it is needless for me to say what I intended;
but, as a matter of fact, I have a government I would willingly
surrender, and thought of offering it to you."

"Madame!" I began; but she cut in upon my words.

"Take a moment to consider, monsieur! Go into the next room, through
that curtain there, and think over it for five minutes. Then come back
and tell me. Go!"

For a second I stared at her, and then did as I was bidden. As I
stepped in a figure rose from a seat near the window, and I heard
Diane's voice:

"Orrain, you have come to see me at last!"

And then what followed concerns not anyone. I know not how long we
were there, talking, planning, and dreaming; but suddenly the curtains
lifted, and Catherine stood before us.

"Monsieur d'Orrain," she said, "I await my answer."

And then she burst out laughing.

There is but a word more to add, and my story ends. We were married
the following week, for that was the Queen's wish, and then my wife and
I said farewell to Paris and the Court for ever. As we rode one
evening on our way to Orrain, round the elbow of the pine-clad hill of
St. Hugo, and the towers of the Chateau came in sight, I told my wife
of my dream, and then we were aware of a figure galloping up the
leaf-strewn road towards us. It was Le Brusquet on his mule.

"_Eh bien_!" he said as he kissed my wife's hand. "And I am the first
to welcome you home, after all! Orrain, _mon ami_, I have seen your
pears. They are finer than mine--I swear it!"

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