Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-02-12

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and ALI was wonder and wild conjecture.
The Baudrys had no kinsfolk who could
have sent him sudden summons. 10
minique was Woodworking, devout iaa'
with no enemy. nor secret tendency 70
crime.
Where had he gone.
What had he seen in the swamp!
Some of his friends thought that he had
been bitten by a serpent, whose poison
had maddened him. and others that ne had
met Vondeu witch who had cast an evil
eve on him. When it was found that he
had taken his mothers picture out OF his
desk. these stories were not believed.
Search was made all that night. The
day which began in Joy set in blank hor-
ror.
All through the solemn season OF Careme
the search went on. The swamps were hunt
ed with bloodhounds, the sluggish bright
bayoux were dragged, but all in vain !;
Dominique Baudry had vanished. He had
been carried off, it was now believed, by
an evil spirit,
The KEY to the mystery was simple.
Coming out of the swamp, his arms full
of roses. whistling and singing with tri-
umph, Dominique stopped to pull on his
long worsted stockings. Below his knee
he saw a white shining spot on the skin.
1t had not been there this morning. He
stooped-staring at it, trembling. 1t was
not a scar it was-or he believed it 10
be leprosy.
Had he not seen the accursed lepers in
Vermillion parish before they were re-
moved to the House of Lepers in New
Orleans9 Who went there never re-
turned.
One thinks swiftly IN such throes of life
as this. Dominique Baudry understood
all that awaited him, before Jaques came
to him in the swamp. He would send the
roses to her. That was the end-the last
Jean should not come to him. He could
never kiss the poor baby again-nor his
mother.
He hid in the swamp like wild beast
that afternoon, watching them all,-his
mother, who would have nobody to turn
to when he was gone. little Jean. and
Gertrude. Why, he had loved her since
was stretched out to seize this topmost
Joy of life, when he thought, like other
men, to marry, he was snatched back to
be-what A living corpse.
Then the temptation came. 1t was the
devil, as honest Dominique knew. Why
need he 60 1t would be weeks, months.
perhaps, before the disease would de-
velope. He could conceal it. He could
enjoy his home. He could marry.
To spread death about him?
why not?' he shouted madly "Why
shall not have my wife, my love, my
homer I, too, am mani"
There in the swamp alone, the poor
Acadian fought his fight with selfishness
and greed and passion. We all of us
have that fight some day. Dominique
conquered. But he was so afraid of his
own weakness that he ran to the house,
gathered up few clothes and his mothers
picture. and before night fall was push
ing his bateau far down the bayou.
1t was journey of many weeks, by
this way, to New Orleans. Through flats,
the thick jungles of palmetto, of rank
flowers, where every kind of poisonous
serpant hid, through the interminable cy-
press forests, hunt with moss. through
the rich sugar plantations and the rice
flats, the sluggish bayou crept. Heavy
malarious mists hung over it at night, and
when the sun warmed it, the allegators
thrust their Jaws out of the water and
watched him with dead. hungry eyes.
If the malaria would give him the
plague! If the alligators would drag him
down! If death in anv shape would come
to his help! He thought he could bear
what was coming better if he could have
left single word for his mother. to ex-
plain what had happened. But if she
knew, she would follow him to the
House of Lepers.
His leg burned and swelled. He was
not at last able to row, but lay in the bot
tom of the boat and drifted down the
stream, creeping on shore at night for
food. He would take it from the negro
cabins, leaving a coin in payment.
Every day the fever in his veins rose
higher and he grew weaker, until. when
the little boat drifted out OF the bay into
the gulf, Dominique lay on the bottom
like one dead. The crew of lugger
bound to New Orleans saw the boat, took
him aboard and nurscd him carefully.
On the day they made port. Dominique
regained his senses. The captain found
him lying with his eyes open, looking out
on the waite. He, too, was "Caian.''
"Good-day, FRIEND" he said, in their
own tongue. Thou hast had tough
fight"
Dominique looked at him, reason and
memory struggling back into his dull eyes
Where vast thou going. in thy little
boat?"
To the House of Lepers''
The man and one of the crew, who had
come into the cabin, started back from
him in horror. Dominique pointed to his
leg.
'Grace Dieu!' shouted the captain
wild with excitement. at is not leprosy
1t is poison from dead shell fish. You
were in swamp
"Yes-yesr' gasped Dominique. strug
Cling out of his bunk, and thrusting Out
his leg. The swelling, the dead white
spot. were gone!
Dominique gave hoarse yell of tri-
umph, and then fell upon his knees, cry
ing and praying at once.
The rice was ready to harvest before he
could earn enough money to go home
But when he did, there was rejoicing in
vermiion and St. Mary's parishes enough
for many Mardis Gras.
Dominique is married now. and one OF
the leading men among the planters. Bu
there is a strange favor of mystery and
heroic adventure about him, and his sto
rles OF his long voyage are as dear to hi.
proud neighbors as the tales of the Trouba
donrs were to their ancestors long ago.
1