The Portland daily press., 1892-09-10

on man one time or another, always"
Here, as in curiosity, Pierre pierced
his finger with the needle and watched
the blood form in a little globule. Look
ing at it meditatively and sardonically,
he said: 'There is only one end to these.
Blood for blood is great matter, and l
used to wonder If it would not be terri
BILE for man to see his death advancing
on him drop by drop, like that, and he
let the spot of blood fall to the floor.
"But now know that there is punish
ment worse than that. Mon Dieu! worse
than that" he added.
Into Shon's face strange look had
suddenly come. "Yes, there's something
worse than that. Pierre"
$50? bien?"
Shon made the sacred gesture of his
creed. ITO be punished by the dead
And not see them-only hear them.
And his eyes steadied firmly to the
others.
Pierre was about to reply, but there
came the sound of footsteps through the
open door and presently Vending en-
tered slowly. He was pale and worn,
and his eyes looked out with searching
anxiousness. But that did not render
him less comedy. He was always dressed
in black and white, and this now added
to the easy and yet severe refinement of
his person. His birth and breeding had
occurred in places unfrequented by such
as Shon and Pierre, but plains and wild
life level all, and men are friends &C
cording to their taste and will, and by
no other law. Hence these with Wend-
ling.
He stretched out his hand to each
without word. The hand shake was
unusual; he had little demonstration
ever. Shon looked up surprised, but re-
sponded. Pierre followed, with swift,
inquiring look; then in the succeeding
pause he offered cigarettes. Vending
took one, and all, silent, sat down. The
sun streamed Unexpectedly through the
doorway, making broad ribbon of light
straight across the floor to Wendling's
feet. After lighting his cigarette he
looked into the sunlight for moment.
still not speaking.
Shon meanwhile started his pipe. and
now, as if he found the silence awk-
ward, "It's a day for Gods country,
this" he said; 'sto make man a Chris
tan for little Or much, though he play
with the divil betunewhiles." Without
looking at them, Vending said in a low
voice: sit was just such day, down
there in Quebec, when it happened.
You could hear the swill of the river,
and the water licking the piers, and the
saws in the big mill and the little mill
as they marched through the timber.
flashing their teeth like bayonets.
sit is a wonderful sound on a hot,
clear day-that wild, keen singing OF
the saws, like the cry of live thing
fighting and conquering. Up from the
fresh cut lumber in the yards there came
smell like the juice of apples, and the
sawdust, as you thrust your hand into
it, was as cool and soft as the leaves Of
a Glove flower in the dew. On these
days the town was always still. 1t
looked sleeping, and you saw the heat
quivering up from the. wooden walls
anu UQ0 TOOIS Ol GGtldI SllllS51C cso uliOu5A
the houses were breathing"
Here he paused, still intent on the
shaking sun. Then he turned to the
others as if suddenly aware that he had
been talking to them. Shon was about
to speak, but Pierre threw a restraining
glance, and instead, they all looked
through the doorway and beyond. In
the settlement below they saw the effect
that Vending had described. The
houses breathed. A grasshopper went
clacking past, dog at the door snapped
up fly, but there seemed no other life
of day.
Vending nodded his head toward the
distance. at was quiet, like that. J
stood and watched the mills and the
yards, and listened to the saws, and
locked at the great slide, and the logs
on the river: and l said to myself that
it was all mine; all. Then / turned to
a house on the hillock beyond the
cedars, whose windows were open, with
cool dusk lying behind them. More
than all else, / loved to think l owned
that house and what was in it. She
was beautiful woman. And she used
to sit in room facing the mill-though
the house fronted another way-think-
ing of me, did not doubt, and working
at some delicate needle stuff.
'sThere never had been sharp word
between us, save when quarreled bit
terly with her brother, and he left the
mill and went away. But she got over
that mostly, though the lads name was
never mentioned between us. That day
I was so hungry for the sight of her
that got my fieldglass, used to watch
my vessels and RATS making across the
bay, and trained it on the window where
l knew she sat. I thought it would
amuse her, too, when I went back at
night, if I told her what she had been
doing. I laughed to myself at the
thought of it as I adjusted the glass.
looked. There was no more laughing.
I saw her, and in front of her man,
with his back half on me.
81 could not recognize him, though a.
the instant thought he was something
familiar. failed to get his face at all.
Hers l found indistinctly. But l saw
him catch her playfully by the chin!