The Dickinson press., 1895-02-02
THE GUARD.

They were telling stories Of hunting
and adventure after dinner. An old
friend of ours, NJ. Boniface,s n mighty
Nimrod and great drinkcr Of wine, 4
gay, robust man full OF spirit, of wit,
IT philosophy, a mocking, resigned phil
,sophy that manifested itself in cutting
witticisms but never in sadness, said
suddenly: II know IL hunting story, or
sather 81 hunting drama. Strange
enough, it is not at all like the general
'un Of such stories. I have never re-
ated 1t, thinking that it would not be
amusing. 1t is not Il sympathetic story,
,'ou understand. That is, it has not
shat interest that stirs one or charms
r touches one"
Here is the story:
When this occurred I was about
.hirty-five years old and a furious hun
Ter. I owned ut that time u very iso-
ated farm in the envircns of Jumieges,
surrounded by forests and we'll stocked
with hares and rabbits. 1 passed only
.hree or four days in the year there,
md always alone, because the arrange
nent Of the place did not provide ac-
.ommodation for a friend. 1 had placed
here as a guard an old retired gend-
arme, u brave, rather violent man, a
error to pOachers. strict in his dis
cin1fnn and ofroid NJ nc%1io~ IIo 1fv,oJ
alone, far from the village, In n little
house or rather howell consisting Of
two rooms below, u kitchen and Gel
lar, and two rooms above. One Of
them. which was nothing but a box.
just big enough for a bed, a cupboard
and chair, was reserved for me.
Father Cavalier occupied the other.
When l said he lived alone in the
lodge, l did not express myself clearly.
He had taken his nephew to live will.
him. He was a worthless fellow of
some fourteen years, who went er-
rands to the village, three kilometers
distant, and helped his uncle in his
daily cares.
The s%capegrace, tall and crooked,
had yellow hair-so light that it look
ed like the down on a ducks breast
so thin that he looked as though he
were bald. He had enormous feet aud
giant hands, the hands OF II colossus,
He squinted n little, and never looked
my one square in the eye. lie seem
ed to ME to hold the same place in the
human c that poisonous beasts dc
in the animal Kingdom. The fellow
was a human fox or polecat. He
slept in n cubby-hole at the head OF
the stairs that led to the chambers
During my short visits ut the "Pavil'
lon"-I called this hut the Pavilion
Marius gave up his niche to an old
woman from E%corcheville. Celeste
came to look after the cooking. the
efforts of Pere Cavilier in that line be-
+, .ns insufficient.
Now you know the place and charac'
iers. let us proceed to the adventure,
1t was on Oct. Is, 1854. I remember
he date distinctly, and I shall never
forget it. I went to R0uen on horse
Jack, followed by my dog, Book. a
great Dalmatian hound, broad chested,
with massive jaws. He beat the bushes
for game like a spaniel from Pout An
aemer. I carried my traveling-bag on
che crupper, my gun slung over my
shoulder. 1t was a cold day, with
great, gloomy clouds fitting across the
sky and a strong wind blowing.
As I climbed up Cantelere, l looked
away over the vast valley through
which the Seine wound like Il serpent
The towers of Rouen touched the sky
to the left, and far off on tho right
stretched the ~wood-covered fields. For
ten years at that same time / had pre-
sented myself in the same fashion and
the same words from the same lips
aad greeted me:
"GOod-day. monsieur. Is your health
;~atisfactory?" Cavalier had not chang
ed.
The old woman, a devoted soul, al,
ways seemed moved when she saw me
and every time 1 left would say: 81
think this may be the last time, Oul
lear master"
This desolate, timid farewell of the
poor old servant, this enforced resigna
ton and expectation of her approach
.ng death, always touched my heart.
1 got off my horse. Cavalier, after
shaking my hand warmly, led the horse
away to the little building that served
as a stable, and followed Celeste into
the kitchen. that was also used MS
dining room. There the keeper Joined
me.
I saw at once that he did not look as
usual. He seemed preoccupied, i'll al
ease, anxious. I said: swell, Cavalier
does everything go to please yOuy" He
muttered:
eyes and no. There is something ]
do not like"
I asked: "What is it, my good fel
/ SnD 2O pnk ho ch1o1y 1io hood
mot yet, sir. I don't want to trouble
you till it is necessary"
I insisted. but he absolutely refused
to enlighten me before dinner. I un
derstood 1t must be a serious affair
Thinking of nothing else to say, 1 re
marked:
us there plenty Of game"
"Oh," he replied. "the game is plenty
You will find all you wish. THANK
heaven! I can keep my eye on that"
He said this with so much gravity
so much grief. 1t was nearly comical
His heavy gray mustache dropped
mournfully over his lips.
Suddenly I bethought myelf I hat
not yet seen his nephew. where II
Marius? Why does he not show him
self?" The guard jumped, and looked
me suddenly in the face.
"Welf, monsieur. I had rather tel
you that after awhile; yes, I had rateh
er. 1t is on his account 7 am Worried
"Ah! Well, where is hep
"He is in the stable, sir. I am wait
ing for him to come"
"What has he done?"
"This is the story, sir"
And the old maj hesitated: his
voice changed, trembled. His face be
came wrinkled all at once with tn,
lines of old age. He spoke slowly:
"Well, 1 have seen this winter trace!
of poachers in the Roseray woods. blu
have not been able to catch any one
I passed night after night there sir
nothing. Then they began to lay
snares in the woods in Ecorcheville
I had grown thin with watching, blu
when it came to taking the marauders
it was impossible. You would hav,
said they foresaw my intentions, m!
plans.
But one day. as 1 brushed Marius
coat, his Sunday coat. I found fouI
SOUS in his nOcket. Where had tn,