St. Landry clarion. (Opelousas, La.) 1890-1921, 1899-04-01
she'd that night at the Mission; not a

s.scab'' should be left for the "niggers"
to bring back. For .sscabs'' to be forced
upon them by "niggers" was an aggra-
vation of injury by insult which the
pride of these valiant Irish leaders could
not brook.
This was the story of the confding
little boy at the Mission, told in the
simple faith of one who believes that
his friends can do no wrong; all the
bad men were on the other side. Not a
shadow or a stain of its cruel meaning
seemed to have touched his childish ap-
prehension.
Faith was unhappy and fearful in her
| mind; yet-she tried to comfort her
sellf-the thing was, as Mr.. Casson had
said, too monstro,ls, too suicidal a dis
grace for the union leaders to permit
to touch their organization, still less to
| invite as means of discipline. The sun
was getting low. Faith rebuked her
| impatience by turning her back on the
upstream view. and, taking longer
stroll toward the landing, resolved not
Ito look around again till the sounds
she yearned to hear announced her
| friends; but no new sounds broke the
quiet stir of the leaves and the softly
moving water. She grew sick with sus-
pense. They would not come in time to
get her warning; esse they would not
come at all-and what could have hap
pened! This was day when one
might not talk of a morrow.
/ Suddenly, close inshore, making for
the next bend across loop of the river,
a long, sharp canoe, or dugout, shot by,
loaded with disaster; for Mike stood
balanced, alone, guiding the slim craft,
and along the bottom, stretched upon
his back, lay man helpless, notion
less, shape with the face hidden. What
did the coat conceal that covered the
face? Was it death? There was enough
of Darcie there for Faith to recognize.
He was coming to meet her at the Mis-
sion, and this was the fate he had en-
countered on the way.
@Oh, Mike-oh, stop!" she groaned,
upon her knees on the bank, stretching
her arms out above the water. The
breeze shook the bushes; the dismal
load shot by. Mike had not heard her
choking cry or seen her gesture Of an
guish. Gathering herself up she STUN
bled through the grass, past the trees,
that delayed her like idle, curious per-
sons crowding upon one in a moment
of extreme distress; but by the time she
had rounded the loop by land Mike had
crossed it by water-as the bow-string
measures the bow, had landed his
freight under the bushes in the shade,
and was already out of sight below the
| lower bend.
A wind was rising, spreading the
rapid coolness that precedes summer
/ gale. The bushes were beating wild
i ly, leaves and dust and blossom petals
were flying, and dark wind-track
streaked the meadows; but the waveless
river only shuddered and crept by in
silence.
Darcie was lying on his back, staring
at the green boughs overhead; the
coat lay over his chest, and its folds
perceptibly rose and fell. This was
Faiths first assurance that he breathed.
In the shock of SO sudden, so COM
plete a release from SO great a fear, for
i the moment she forgot her warning.
He looked at her stupidity at first,
then little wildly, and then with an
eager smile he flung his hand out to-
ward her upon the grass. Yet something
in his manner she missed-something
that she had looked to see on their meet
ing again; missed it, and drew back
from her instructive first advances.
He knew her, but had placed her at
the beginning of their brief, intense ac-
i quaintance; all between was oblivion.
His love spoke, and his need of love, in
his dumb eyes; but he was silent,
troubled, and took nothing for granted.
/ 1t was useless to question him as to
how he had arrived at this phase of his
condition. Investigating, as his nurse,
/ Faith discovered that there had been a
fresh hemorrhage from his wound; the
/ sleeve and breast of his shirt beneaththe
coat were soaked with blood. Weak
i ness, thirst and delirium had followed,
i but not fever, so far as she could Judge.
He was bareheaded, and she looked in
vain for his hat to fetch him water in
the brim of it, as she had seen the hunt
1 ers do, but was forced touse her hand
kerchief, feeding him with drops
dripped between his lips. His face
and hands and all his clothing down i'll
front were gri1ned and scratched and
earth-stained, as though Beaver canyon
had been literally wiped up with him;
when he spoke his voice was rapid
NUT tering, devoid of expression. There
was no hope that they could come to any
understanding now on those delicate
points that remained to be settled be
tween them. This was piteous com
p1ication, that at this last hour before
the boat came in--the hour that must
I decide how they should leave the boat
and meet on the other side Of the lake,
when the one word must be said, and he
alone. could say 1.-THE. should be ont
d of his senses, calling her Miss Faith,
and babbling flat courtesies, saying
nothing but with his eyesi She could
not give him even the love he dumb
" crayed.
4 No; it was strangely cruel. They
were meant for each other; this she be-
4 lieved as a new, mex xplicable fact not to
be reasoned about, yet she was power
less to act upon It. Could any girl fol-
low a sick and crazy youth, a conspieu-
ously adorable young man, whom any
stranger would be good to, once he
4 was out of this terrorized land appear
I.at his side, and assume the right to
Il,