The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1885-11-12
The alarm was at once given. Village

covering iIOLh lHc SiSus VI SohO oupci-
natural vision. To the question put
to him he replied that, as he was adj
ministering the consultations of his holy
office to the prisoner, voice sounded
through the apartment, accompanied
by the shadow of a mighty pair OF
wings, on which the prisoner mounted
to fhe ceiling OF the apartment and was
no more seen by him. The voice, he
added, proclaimed the prisoners inno-
cence. the real circumstances OF the
murder would soon be made manifest.
1t was hsescle; and the good coun-
try people, ever ready to accept that
form of interposition, were easily per-
suaded to do SO on the present occa-
sion.
Meantime, Laroche, when he leaped
from the window, had forgotten all
about the platform. As he fell upon it
he displaced esack OF grain, which
splashed into the dark waters of the
river, appearing to the eyes OF the be-
wildcred sezm8o be the body OF the
man who n: = Ppped from the prison
window. LAUgie lay upon the mar
row platform, stunned Dy the heavy
fall.
Spride, the miller's daughter, saw
him fuli. There was no one else in the
mill at the time. She drew him be-
hind the sacks and great heaps of gram
on the floor, and having administered
to him such restoratiVes as her young
experience suggested, threw some loose
sacks over him and told him to lie
still.
That night Sprido and her lover
Laroche and she had been lovers for
about six hours only-made their way
to where a boat lay moored below the
falls; and embarking in il, were soon
carried far beyond pursuit. 1t was sup
posed by The frightened villagers that
Spride must have been carried from
the platform when the body from the
window above had been seen 10 strike
upon it; and as the whirlpool below the
torrent had never been known to give
up its dead, but little search was made
for her, and her friends resigned them-
selves to mourning for her awful fate.
Less than six months after this Ian
dry was tried for the murder of q
brother keeper and was convicted and
hanged accordingly. Previous TO his
conviction, however, he made clean
breast of it TO Father Allard. confess
ing that he had murdered the farmer
for his money, killing him with the
stake cut from the hedge by young
Laroche, which, as he stated singular
ly enough, suggested to him the idea
of committing the crime.
Two years elapsed, and Father Al
lard had been promoted 10 parish at
iistanan IF tu ,,,ilac tpa
one which he had been pastor of for so
many years.
Shortly after his arrival there his du-
ties led him to take & journey on horse
back some miles into the interior of
the parish of which he had charge.
Part OF the road travelled by him
wound through swampy forest re-
Sinn; ami after ride of several miles,
he came to a sluggish otro~AA ths1 i.t.d
formerly been spanned by bridge,
OF which nothing but the abutments
remained, however. The priest turned
his horses head and rode along the
bank of the river, hoping to lind anoth-
er bridge, or at least a ford, by which
he could cross TO the further side; nor
had he gone far when he discovered,
by boot marks, a place where cattle
seemed to be in the habit of wading
through or coming to drink.
The water appeared to be shallow, so
he urged his unwilling horse into it,
and had got about half way across,
when the animal began to plunge and
struggle violently, sinking 1T the same
time, as if drawn down by some invisi-
bic power. Aware now that he had
fallen into one of those quick-sands
which are not uncommon III that part
of France, the good father knew that
to throw himself from his horse would
| be certain death, as the water was not
| deep enough to swim in, and the hum
cry sand at the bottom was gaping for
him He held upon his horse, there
fore, and shouted for help.
The water was gaining upon him, as
the terrified horse sank deeper and
deeper in the treacherous stream. Up,
| up it came, until it reached his saddle
flaps, and then his knees; and he had
given himself up as lost, when distant
shouts came in response to his, which
were going feebler with each repetition.
And now a man bursts his way
| through the brushwood on the river
bank, aud, laying his axe upon tall,
| slender young tree, cuts 1t down with
| four or five rapid strokes, leaning it SO
| that it falls down upon the water, its
topmost boughs just brushing the sink
! ing horseman in Its fall. Grasping the
| boughs with all his remaining strength,
| the priest was drawn TO the bank by
the woodsman, fainting and senseless,
| however, and with hardly visible
! spark OF lie.
! When Father Allard recovered con-
f, sciousncss he found himself in a small
put comfortable room. Seeing him
open his eyes, Il buXom young woman
who was bathing his temples uttered
an exclamation of joy, calling him by
name; aud now, as his dizzy senses
| frightened, what was his surprise 10
tiud his attendant the lost Spride. EX-
| PLANTATION enSued. and all was made
| clear as day without recourse to mar
! vel or miracle.
Presently Laroche, who had been en-
| paoed. with the assistance of some oi
the neighbors, in extricating the priests
! horse, came III, and the scene was al
affecting one between the two, eaen OF
! whom had been thus wonderfully ap-
pointed by Providence 10 preserve the
other.
My conscience is clear now, salo
Father Alard. Heaven has surely
| pardoned the little fiction framed ~
me; else why"
But hold. reverend Father cried
Laroche, interrupting him; there was
no fiction in the case. You said that
was carried away upon an angel S
wings. and so | was, and this is the an
gel that saved mel" Aud he, laughing,
threw his arms around the pretty wife
and Rugged her to his side.
| Poetieal justice might now have been
we'll satisfied, bnt | have 4 few words
further to add upon the subject.
Laroche, who was now employed a:
forester upon an estate, was enabled
by the assistance of Father Allard K
return to his native village, where, not
long after, he obtained an appointmen
to the very keepership formerly hei(
by the assassin Landry