Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1883-07-21

A4HA SA
1t was the bell of the village sounding
the funeral knell.
The murderer listened, pale, moved,
quivering at each stroke as if the clap
per OF the bell had struck upon his
heart.
Then great tears gushed slowly from
his eyes and flowed down his cheeks,
but he did not notice them, did not
think of wiping them away.
That funeral tolling evoked in his
Imagination a picture at once terrible
and heart-rending. At that very hour
the bell of another village was tolline
for the dead; a poor young wife, show.
ing in her thin features all her life of
tears, suffering and resignation, was
laid in her coffin, her mortal wound COW
cred by shrouds, then taken to the
church and the grave.
And three little blonde children fol-
lowed the coffin, asking themselves WHY
their mother had been placed there in
her sleep, and why their father was not
beside them.
20 wretch! wretch!' sighed the muir
derer, covering his face with both his
hands.
Again he listened to the bell, the toll
ing of which seemed to him like the sobs
of the poor victim;. then he murmured
in a whisper:
"Oh! idleness! idleness! It led me to
the dram-shop, and see what the dram
shop has produced-three orphans. a
poor woman in the ground, and met
me, a monster hated by all, tracked like
. wild beast, pursued without repose or
intermission until the hour when they
shall have driven me to the scafEold!
Horrible, horrible destiny-and yet too
merclful!"
He remained in the tree until night
had come on. When he saw the stars
sparkle in the sky, when he no longer
heard anything in the vast solitude but
that vague breath which seems the res
piration of the slumbering earth, then
only he ventured to descendt to rest him
self.
He stretched himself out at the foot
of the tree and closed his eyes, but the
fear which had not quilted him, the
hunger which was gnawing his entrails!
kept him constantly awake, and he
arose at the first glimmer of dawn, over
whelmed, broken at once by uneasi-
ness, fatigue and a fast of nearly three
days.
After several hours had elapsed, hum
ger, rendered still keener by the pure
air of the groves, finally mastered all
his t%errors, and feeling that his reason
would 500 fail him, he resolved to 90
to the village and beg for something to
eat
He shook off the grass adhering to his
garments, retied his cravat, passed his
through his matted hair; then
he left the grove and resolutely crossed
the plain.
Five minutes afterward he entered the
village, walking slowly, his head bent
the ground like a man overcome
by fatigue, but casting to right and left
a furtive and 'distrustful glance, and
ready to take flight at the first appear
ance of danger.
"What do you want, my good man?"
the woman of an inn, a solid
peasant with broad shoulders and a
fresh and blooming appearance.
Bread and wine," answered the
And he seated himself at a table, near
a window which opened upon a garden.
He was oon served.
II have brought you bread, wine and
cheese" said the woman of the inn.
II ordered only bread and wine," re-
piled the murderer roughly, hiding his
in his hands.
"Bah! the cheese concerns me, and
bread also, for, without offending
you, you have not a rich air, my poor
man, and it seems to me that you have
great need to regain strength; so drink
and eat without bothering yourself
about the rest"
'Thank you, thank you" f..
At that moment the church bell was
heard ringing rapidly.
The murderer felt himself grow faint.
BE was tempted to spring out of doors.
A quarter of an hour passed, a CEN
fury Of torture and anxiety for the fugi-
tive, whom the most insignificant word
caused to turn pale and tremble. At
last he was about to arise and depart,
when a drinker exclaimed:
''Here comes Pere :Faucheux, our
Brigadier de Gendarmerie!"
On seeing the Brigadier enter, he laid
MS head on the table and feigned to be
The reception accorded the gen.
aarme attested the esteem he enjoyed
the district; each man offered him q
place at his table.
"Thank you, my good friends" re-
Pere Faucheux; ga glass of
vine on the wing, willingly-that's not
, refusal; but, as to Seating myself and
ding here, impossible-the service is
opposed to it."
"The service, get along with you!
is Sunday, and thieves must rest
ike other people,"
"Thieves, possibly; but with assassins
t is different"
"An assassin! What are you talking
about Pere Faucheux?"
"Then you haven't. heard of the St.
.idier AFFAIR.""
"No; tell us about it,"
"The murderer is a mason, and his
is Pierre Picard" resumed the
3rigadier.
"And whom has he assassinated?"
Ellis wife"
"The villain! What had she done to