Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1885-08-27

CHAPTER VI.
Down the village, near the mill, the yard
OF Blondel, with its ever-open gate, and the
white house at the end Of the garden, is a
place Of public rendezvous. They come there
to take the carriage, stroll around the entrance,
and wish "boH vopage' to departing friends.
Around the diligence limps Mother Blon-
del, upon her crulch, scolding the servant as
he harnesses the horses. She is pious and
avaricious; older than her husband, whose
vices she is perpetually enumerating.
Ii has rained since morning; the streams
are full, and the mud splashes upon the car
riage wheels as they roll through tie cutters.
Some travellers talk under their umbrellas.
The grocer. Pe,u Pas. IS going TO IIavre to
consult physician for his asthma. \ farm.
er's wife IN yellow bonnet Is on her way to
join a wedding party on the route to Epon-
Vile. Her husband standing upon the foot
board gives her 4 good by kiss.
~ pleasant trip"
"Nly love to all the friends"
".fH rea0ir.'
Aud Mederic feels his heart breaking at the
thought that the carriage will return empty.
Fisee has embraced her father, leaving
MederIc for the last. She would reserve that
kiss-the most choice, most pure. She Is in
stalled in a corner Of the carriage, her shawl
upon her knees.
"You will write?'
"Oh, yes, certainly"
"When ?"
"To-m morrow"
Mother Blondel comes limping up to the
carnage door.
"Ah! it is you, Madame Ferard. And
your health? Myself? Oh, | thank you.
bad, very bad; always warm at the head and
cold at the feet, with touch of fever. Ii is
all Blondel's fault. lie gives me so much
trouble: so was,eful, and then liquor But
where has he gone now? They are orly
waiting for him. He will be too late for the
train"
Mederic and Fisee look at each other with
eyes full of tears. They can find nothing to
say. Some drops fall upon the umbrellas,
and Petit Pas, purple, shaking with asthma,
coughs dismally.
Oh, the supreme moment which ruptures
sweet dreamsl They think of the days that
are gone They think of that hour when their
eyes met with the first conscious ,ook; Of the
thrill at the touch Of the hand; Of the first
kiss The lovers meetings; the happiness of
past days; the melancholy II the winter
which now envelopes them. They think of
all this, and their hearts melt in a mute fare
well.
Finally Blondel appears, ascends to his
seat
"Here we are -
A violent jerk draws the diligence out Of
the gutter. AT the window Fisee waves her
hand, and the carriage ra,iles out OF the court.
Mederic returns by the path through the
woods. He walks against the wind, the rain
in his eyes Pushing aside the damp branches
which obstruet his path he goes steadily on as
far as the red mill The diligence ascends
the hill, and he again sees Fisee, for the last
time.
The wind sweeps the rain in sheets; the
heavy mist mingles fields and houses in vague
obscuriy. Standing upon the moat Mederic
awaits a long time, beaten by the storm
The diligence has passed.
lie resumed his monotonous life, as before,
every day performing his customary duties in
the same old routine. lie was as ever atien-
tive TO his mother, gentle with the servants,
but his eye was dreamy, his manner distracted,
and he went about mechanically, as though
his soul were far away.
Fisee wrote regularly, and her letters were
filed with those nothings which come from
the soul, those words which women find
which they repeat in low voice and kiss as
they write.
In Flsee's room Mederic read and re read
these letters. lie found in them The voice,
the glance, the kiss, all the woman, and as he
read he wept
Formerly Fisee had written large, irregu-
ho It,, a(,ax, t,,s he.
il was transformed. This grieved Mederic.
At first he answered promptly, but when he
heard that they read his condolences in the
convent he ceased te write, through rustic
tmidity. AT heart he was uneasy. visit
from Camas increased this anxiety.
With his customary exquisite tact the school
master aroused his mistrust. He related
stories Of forced vocations, Of young persons
who, after having been taken away from their
fances, were forcibly shaven and buried in
the living death Of the cloister.
"One should distrusi," he said, sthese re-
ligious exaltations of the nuns and the entice-
menis OF the confessional" and he warmly
eulogized an anti clerical article published in
his Paris journal
Mederic did not know what 10 believe.
"Do you think Fisee can forget me p
"One never knows. Those people are very
powerful" And then he went away, de-
lighted with the effect of his words. For
some time past his manner had been very
mysterious. ]; was said that he had unex-
pectedly received a heritage which made him
entirely independent, and that he awaited the
retirement Of Amgamore to make his applca-
ton for the Office Of mayor
There were now some fine days, of which
they took advantage TO sow the wheat
Mederic usually worked in the company Of
Mage He was her father, part Of her, and
it was pleasure to the lover to look at the
rough countenance Of the peasant.
They went on together, one before the
other sometimes for hours without a word,
Mederic following the furrow. Behind him,
Mage guiding the colt, as it drew the harrow.
The shadows, Of the oaks heightened over
them, and focks of ravens circling from their
SUBMITS descended and alighted behind the
rakes, without fear of switches or urchns.
The harvest Of wheat was over. From all
parts the beasts were brought in for the winter
The sheep fold was filled with bleatings; the
cows placidly ruminated in NE warmth OF the
stalls.
One by one the last leaves had fallen; the
black, birdless trees raised their leafy branches
toward heaven; the early apples were gath.
cred in, and they raised the press for cider
Then came the SHOWS OF Hallow mass, and
the flights of birds. They fell in focks, with
dropping wings, stihening claws. The shep-