The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1899-11-17
vas attached to the missile. He tore it

"a citizen has denounced Col. Pierre
ST. Jean as an enemy of the republic,
declaring that the colonel said, this
morning, many offensive and violent
things against the people. A sincere
friend advises him to escape at the
earliest possible moment, for the peo-
pie will not act slowly. But he must
be cautious, for all ordinary means of
escape are watched and cut off,"
"The ruffians!" exclaimed ST. Jean
under his breath, as he read and reread
the note. At first he thought that this
was simply threat by his enemies to
terrify him into submission or to make
him fly, for he believed that they would
be quite willing to see him well out of
their way. But on further considera-
ton his estimate of the missive changed.
He recalled that the republic was fond
of killing those whom it considered its
enemies. He remembered the cases of
men personally known to him who had
been led to death, whose families had
been left destitute, whose estates had
been confiscated. Then he marveled
that he should have remained so long
unframed. At last: ''This is from
genuine friend" he exclaimed, "else it
would not address me by my military
title. I should have been called cit
izen!'"
The more he thought about it, the
more serious the matter seemed, until
he finally made up his mind to flight,
but how?
Father" said a sweet voice, inter-
rupting his meditations, may l come
in to say good-night?"
Eyes, Marie" responded ST. Jean,
gravely; ''come in and sit beside me
moment"
Marie obeyed, silent and wondering.
She saw at once that something of seri-
Gus import was troubling her father,
and, drawing a low chair to his side, she
sat down and raised her calm gray eyes
to his.
my child,' he said, after moment
airy silence, 1--WE must leave Paris"
''Have the citizens threatened you,
father?" she asked, sadly.
MANY times replied ST. Jean, rest
ing his hand caressingly upon her head;
land at last-read this"
She took the paper and read it quick
ly.
$50 we must CO." she said, with
tremulous voice; chow cruel to treat
my good father so badly. wish could
tell them how good and kind he is.
Couldn't 1 say something to them, IA
ther?"
Hardly, Marie,' replied ST. Jean,
STOPPING over to kiss her forehead;
"they would not believe you. You had
better get ready for journey tonight.
We will leave in the early morning in a
closed carriage and go to a suburban
railway station, there to take the train
for Hayre.'
''But father, see! 1t says you must
go secretly. They would surely take
you in carriage. They are about the
house all the time
''Well, Marie, how shall we go?"
Father and daughter sat silent for
some minutes. ST. Jean was revolving
all kinds of wild schemes, involving the
greatest danger to them both, for he
could think of nothing but bold as
saults, brilliant maneuvers, in which
the enemy should be overcome by sur
prise and the sudden movement of the
fugitives.
Il have it, father" exclaimed Marie,
at last; you can carry mel"
Garry you?"
''Yes; aren't you strong enough?"
''Of course 1 am; could carry two
like you"
swell, then, we shall be able to take
large amount of baggage, for my
weight in clothing would make enough
to last us long time"
''What in the world are you thinking
of, Marie?"
'Oh, I'll show you. Haven't you often
seen a ragman carrying big bag of
rags that was twice as large as he WASP"
Eyes, my child, many times"
'Well, now, don't you see? Come
right upstairs and let us see if we can
not make a ragbag out of bedtick,
that will be large enough to hold me
and a small bundle of clothing
Marie sprang from her seat, and
throwing her arms impulsively about
her fathers neck, kissed him fondly as
she continued:
II am sure the plan will succeed. No
body will recognize you if you shave off
that big mustache and imperial, and
dress up in ragged clothes, and nobody
will see me, for shall be all out of sight
but won't it be hard task for poor
papa How tired he will be before we
get to the railway station"
Interested, but half incredulous, st.
Jean followed his daughter to a cham
Der, where she began at once to pull
bed to pieces, talking all the time about
the fight, what they should need to
carry, what they should wear, and
many other things thatsuggested them
selves to her busy brain.
1t was about midnight before they
stopped work, and ST. Jean stood, razor
in hand, before mirror, gazing regret
fully at his dropping mustache.
Morning comes at last. The dark,
brownish mist that pervades the street
and envelopes the house in a moist en-