The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1895-06-24
THEYOUNG SEIGNEUR

His chief occupation in the daytime
was to stand on the bench by the small
barred window and watch the pigeons
IN the roof and in the caves Of the hos
pital opposite. For five years he had
done this, and it was the one thing in
his whole life during that time which
had a charm for him. Every change of
weather and season was registered there
as plainly as if he could see the surface
Of the world. In the summer the states
seemed to have a great fire beneath
them. for a quivering hot air rose up
from them, and the pigeons never alight-
ed on them save in the early morning or
in the evening. Just over the peak of
the roof could be seen the topmost
branch of an oak, too slight to bear the
weight Of the pigeons, but the caves un
der the projecting roof were dark and
cool, and there his eyes rested when he
tired of the bard blue sky and the glare
of the roof. He could also see the top of
the hospital windows, barred up and
down, but never anything within, for
the windows were ever dusty, and all
was dark beyond. But now and then he
heard bitter cries coming through u
open window in the summer time, and
he listened to them grow fainter and
fainter, till they sank to a low moan
ing and then ceased altogether.
In winter the roof was covered for
months by a blanket Of snow, which
looked like a shawl of impacted wool,
white and r~estful, and the hospital win
dows were spread with frost. But the
pigeons were the same-almost as gay
and walking on the lodges of the roof
or crowding on the shelves of the lead
pipes. He studied them much, but he
loved them more. His prison was less q
prison because of them, and in the long
five years of expiration he found himself
more in touch with them than with the
wardens of the prison or any of his COM
panions.
With the former he was respectful,
and he gave them no trouble at all.
With the latter he had nothing in COM
mon, for they were criminals, and he
he had blundered when wild and mad
with drink, SO wild and mad that he
had no remembrance, absolutely none,
Of the incident by which Jean Vigot
lost his life. He remembered that they
had played cards far into the night;
that they had quarreled, then made
their peace again; that the others had
left; that they had begun playing cards
and HrirEinO aoaSn on1 than oil xpoc
blurred, save for a vague recollection
that he had won all the money Vigot
had and had pocketed it. Then came a
blank. He walked to find two officers of
the law beside him, and the body of
Jean Vigot, stark and dreadful, a few
feet away
When the officer put their hands upon
him, he shook them off. When they
did it again. he would have fought them
to the death had it not been for his
friend, tall Medallion, who laid a
strong hand on his arm and said,
STEADY. Converse, steadyr' and he had
yielded to the firm, friendly pressure.
Medallion had left no stone u~nturned
to clear him at the trial, had himself
played detective increasingly, but the
hard facts remained there, and on a
chain of circumstantial evidence Louis
Converse, the young seigneur, was sent
to prison for ten years for m%anslaugh-
ter. That was the compromise effected.
Louis himself had said only that he
didn't remember, but he could not be-
lieve he had committed the crime. Rob-
berry? He shrugged his shoulders at
that. He insisted that his lawyer should
not reply to the insulting and foolish
suggestion.
Vigot had all the winnings when the
other members of the party left the two,
and this very money had been found in
Louis pocket. There was only Louis
word that they had played cards again.
Anger? Possibly. Louis could not re-
member, though he knew they had quar-
relied. The judge himself, charging the
jury, said that he never before saw q
prisoner SO frank and outwardly honest,
out warned them that they must not
lose sight of the crime itself, the taking
Of a human life whereby Z Woman was
made a widow and a child fatherless.
And 30 with the few remarks the
judge sentenced the young Seigneur to
ten years in prison, and then himself,
shaken and pale, left the courtroom hur-
riedly. for Louis Converse's father had
been his friend from boyhood.
~; :s:s hi lsatenas ae!mly; look;
when tha judge stopped be bowed to
him, turned to the jury and said: "Gen:
tlemeh, You have ruined my life. You
don't know. and I don't know, who
killed the man. You have guessed, and
] take the penalty. Suppose I'm limo.
cent. How will you feel when the truth
comes out? You've known me more or
less these 30 years, and you've said with
no more knowledge than I've got that I
did this miserable thing. don't know
but that one Of you did it, but you are
safe, and l take my ten years"
He turned from them. and as he did
so he saw q woman looking at him from