The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1891-03-25

with convicts: that was what he expert
enced for five broiling summers and five
winters raw with the Mediterranean wind.
He came out from there stunned, was sent
under surveillance to Vernon, where he
worked some time on the river. Then, an
incorrigible vagabond, he broke his exile
and came again TO Paris. He had his saw
ings, 56f., that is to say, time enough for
reflection. During his absence his former
wretched companions had dispersed. He
was well hidden and slept in a loft at an
old woman's, TO whom he represented
himself as sailor tired OF the sea, who
had lost his papers in recent shipwreck,
and who wanted to try his hand at some
thing else. His tanned face and his cal
loused hands. together with some sea
phrases which he dropped from time to
time, made his tale seem probable enough.
One day when he risked a saunter in
the streets, and when chance had led him
as far as Montmartre, where he was born
an unexpected memory stopped bim.before
the door of Les Freres. where he had learn
ed TO read. As it was very warm the door
was open, and by single glance the passing
outcast was able to recognize the peace
able schoolroom. Nothing was changed !;
neither the bright light shining in at the
great windows, nor the crucifix over the
desk, nor the rows of benches with the
tables furnished with inkstands and PEN
ellis, nor the table of weights and measures,
nor the map where pins stuck in still in
dicated the operation OF some ancient war.
Heedlessly and without thinking, Jean
Francois read on the blackboard of the
words of the evangelist which had been
set there as copy:
Joy shall he in heaven over one sinner
that repenteth, more than over ninety and
nine just persons, which need no repent
ance."
1t was undoubtedly the hour for recrea-
ton, for the brother professor had left his
chair, and sitting on the edge of table he
was telling a story to the boys who sur
rounded him with eager and attentive
eyes. What bright and innocent face he
had, that beardless young man, in his
long, black gown, and white necktie, and
great ugly shoes, and his badly-cut brown
hair streaming out behind. All the sim
pie figures Of the children of the people
VINO were watching him seemed scarcely
less childlike than his; above all, when
delighted with some of his own simple
and priestly pleasantries. he broke out in
an open and frank peal OF laughter which
showed his white and regular teeth, peal
so contagious that all the scholars laughed
loudly in their turn. 1t was such a sweet,
simple group in the bright sunlight, which
lighted their dear eyes and their blonde
curls.
Jean Francois looked at them for some
time in silence, and for the first time in
that savage nature, ali instinct and appe-
tite, there awoke n mysterious, tender
emotion. His heart, that scared and
hardened heart, unmoved when the con-
vict's cudgel or the heavy whip OF the
Waterman fell on his shoulders, beat OPP
pressively. In that sight he saw again
his infancy; and closing his eyes sadly,
the prey to torturing regret, he walked
quickly away.
Then the words written on the black
board came back to his mind.
III it wasn't too late, after all :" he muir
INJURED; ''if / could again, like others, eat
honestly the brown bread and sleep my fill
without nightmare. The spy must be
sharp who recognizes me. My beard,
which | shaved off down there, has grown
out thick and strong. One can burrow
somewhere in the great anthill and work
can be found. Whoever is not worked TO
death in the hell of the galleys comes out
agile and robust. and | learned there to
climb ropes with loads upon my back
Building is going on everywhere here and
the rnasons need helpers. Three francs a
day. | never earned so much. Let me
be forgotten, and that is all i ask"
He followed his courageous resolution :;
he was faithful to it, and after three
months he was another man. The master
for whom he worked called him his best
workman. Alter a long day upon the
scafolding in the hot sun and the dust,
haDI,vc. a IN q, III hool- e.,
take the bod from the man at his feet and
pass it to the man over his head, he went
for his soup to the cookshop, tired out, his
legs aching, his hands burning, his eyelids
stuck with plaster, but content with him
self, and carrying his well-earned money
in knot in his handkerchief. He went
out now without fear, since be could not
be recognized in his white mask, and since
he had noticed that the suspicious chances
of the policeman were seldom turned on
the tired workman. He was quiet and
sober. He slept the sound sleep of IA
tigue. He was free.
At last-oh, supreme recompense-he
had friend!
He was fellow-workman like himself.
named Savinien, a little peasant with red
lips who had come to Paris with his stick
over his shoulder and bundle on the end
OF it, fleeing from the wine shops and CO.
ing to mass every Sunday. Jean Francois
loved him for his pie,y, for his candor, for
his honesty, for all that he himself had
lost, and so long ago. 1t was q passion,
profound and unrestrained, which trans
formed him by fatherly cares and atten-
tions. Savinien, himself of a weak and
egotistical nature, let things take their
course, satisfied only in finding a compan-
ion who shared his horror of the wine
shop The two friends lived together in
a fairly comfortable lodging, but their re-
sources were very limited. They were
obliged TO take into their room a third
companion, an old Auvergnat, gloomy and
rapacious, who found it possible out of his
meagre salary TO save something with
which to buy place in his own country.
Jean Francois and Savinien were always
together. On holidays they together took
long walks in the environs of Paris, and
dined under an arbor in one of those
small country inns where there are a great
many mushrooms in the sauces and inno-
cent REFUSES on the napkins. There Jean
Francois learned from his friend all that
lore of which they who are born in the
city are ignorant; learned the names of
the trees. the flowers, and the plants; the
various seasons for harvesting; he heard
eagerly the Thousand details of a laborious
country life-the autumn sowing, the win
ter chores, the splendid celebrations of
harvest and vintage days, the sound OF
the mills at the water side, and the fails
striking the ground, the tired horses lei
ffnf ha