Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-05-19
TContinued f-.om first page.

"
purpose was arrested by the unusual
souri, of voices upon the clear night air.
Starting up, he flung the door open wide,
and saw in the bright starlight two hunt.
ers approaching overthe glistening snow.
The fre-light and the open door offered a
welcome of which they awaited themselves
without waiting for words to second it
And few moments later they were I'M
fastening their snow shoes, and laying
aside their guns within the bright room
As Antoine and his guests stood regard
ing each other, look ofrecognition came
into their faces, and with an exclamation
of pleasure he clasped the hands of two
old comrades. With few words he &C
counted for Marie's presence. and after
the hunters had partaken of the supper
their hostess provided for them. they sat
late into the night talking over old adven.
lures. Marie listened silently, and watched
her husband with troubled eyes, as his
lace glowing with pleasure and excite
ment, he recalled their exploits OF danger
and daring. And her heart grew heavy
as she heard them plan their journey for
the next day together to the trading-post.
Next morning before day they were
astir and preparing for their journey, and,
as l0ey WeTc " start, OtiC VI luz
hunters said to Marie:
do not be surprised if Antoine does
not come back to thee tonight. He is too
CAV comrade to lose, now that we have
found him. We are going to take him
with us, and perhaps lhou'lt not see him
again until spring.
"What woudst thou do, little one, if
left thee here alone ?" asked her husband,
taking her hand.
II would die, Antoine" she answered,
her eyes filling with tears.
.'But let me take thee to the settlement,
and leave thee with the other women there,
while go away and gain wealth for thee.
l will 90 with Henri and Jules. where the
furs are rich and plentiful, and by spring.
Marie, thy husband will be rich man. "
"Ah, Antoine, thou dost but try me. |
know thou wilt not leave me-" she said,
laying her head upon his breast.
why canst thou not consent, Marie ?"
he asked, lifting her face and looking into
it, while his own clouded with disappoint-
ment. For with the advent of his COM
rades the old passion had come back to
him, almost too strong TO be resisted.
"Oh, Antoine, thou dost not love me any
longer" she cried, as she Interpreted the
look his face wore.
The impotence of disappointment and
the CALLING sense of restraint were upon
him. and he felt the jeering mood of his
companions as he listened to her reproach.
''Marie ~ he exclaimed angrily, '.thou
art foolish child"
Come, come, Antoine" laughed his
friend. Thou art much too tender with
this baby wife thou shouldst never have
married to be held prisoner. What has
become of thy brave spirit, which thou
once didst boast could be controlled by no
will but thine own ?' and he took up his
gun and led the way to the door, looking
back at the two as they stood together
Marie fearful, and Antoine flushed and
bafled.
''Antoine, do not let us part in anger,
even if it is but for day
1t irritated him that she should feel so
sure of his return at night, and he replied
"How dost thou know it will be but for
a day (? Thou demandest much of me-"
"Do require more of thee than thou
hast required of me. Antoine P" she asked
turning away from him.
'But thou art unreasonable, Marie" he
said more softly, as he remembered her
sacrifice. Thou art childish to weep
when I talk of leaving thee for a few
weeks. Thou wouldst make fool of me
before my friends
Forgive me. Antoine, and 60. / will
trust thee" she replied, brushing away
her tears and throwing her arms about
him
He kissed her in silence. and catching
up his load of furs, hurried after the 9TH
ers.
(which has conquered, Antoine. thee or
thy wife p was the-question as he joined
them.
Never mind which," he answered
sh .rply, land want no more of thy ridi-
eule, Jules
When they reached the camp Antoine
found a crowd of his old companions
gathered there. They greeted him up.
roariously, and questioned him closely as
to his long desertion of them. They lis
tened to the story of his tyranical wife as
told BY his late guests with many embel-
lishments. and all joined their entreaties
that be would bring his wife TO the camp
and 60 with them upon long expedition
they were now planning. The temptation
to yield was great. but when be looked
around upon the drunken, reckless, half
6asdSC Ddbds anu tiiS WOiltu WIN IOuIN
them agreeable companions, and thought
of leaving his pure, helpless Marie with
them, even the fascination of the long,
dangerous hunt failed.
The day was almost done before he had
disposed of his furs, and shaken off the
last friend who followed to persuade him.
And, when at last he lifted his purchases
to his shoulders and slipped on his snow
shoes and turned homeward the sun was
sinking into its early bed of wintry clouds.
He struck briskly out through the forest,
caring not tor the darkness, and breathing
more freely as the last sound from the
camp died away in the distance. His
heart grew warmer as each step took him
nearer to his wife, and he forgot the dark
ness and cold, as he pictured her Joy
when he would take her in his arms, and
tell her that she had reclaimed him.
At home Marie had spent a wretched
day of fear and doubt. 1t was in vain
that she assured herself that he loved her
that he had always been true to her; she
was forced to remember that he had new
er been SO tried before. And, further,
that his vanity had been sorely wounded
that ho ha1 c,b;on,aI l.: